I am not a literary giant

"Who?"

"A user. A user who spends over 20,000 yuan a month on our app," Zuo Ziliang said. "She wants to see you."

Wang Zixu hesitated for two seconds before saying, "You know I can't see her. I have a wife."

Zuo Ziliang covered his face with a wry smile: "Do you think you have a choice? Or rather, do you think we have a choice?"

"What do you mean?"

Zuo Ziliang composed himself: "If you don't step in, that user said they will report us to the Music Administration."

"What funny potato?"

"It's not 'funny potato.' It's the Infotainment Administration," said Zuo Ziliang. "We belong to the category of online information and entertainment applications, and they are our direct regulatory body, responsible for supervising whether there are any violations during our operations."

Prince Xu stood up: "Didn't you promise me you wouldn't break the law?"

Zuo Ziliang gestured for him to sit down: "I told you to calm down. What did we do wrong? How could we possibly have broken the law?"

"Then why are you afraid she'll report you?"

"You don't understand at all." Zuo Ziliang frowned. "Even if it's not illegal, she reported it. Will the Music Administration investigate? If they do, things will get complicated."

"You haven't broken any laws, so why are you afraid of being investigated?"

Zuo Ziliang said, "Do you know how they investigate? First, they make you write a self-inspection report, then they send people to collect all sorts of information, retrieve transaction records, check backend records, and even demand an audit of our services..."

"Just like our inspection process."

"Yes, but what's the problem? The service we provide is speech therapy, and they want us to provide all our chat logs! We can't leak the users' chat logs; we can only ask the speech therapists to take screenshots of their own logs. If they're willing to cooperate, that's fine, but if they're not, they'll quit. How many speech therapists will we lose?"

"Not to mention that the very existence of censorship is a form of punishment. Have you read Sartre? The gaze is slavery, haven't you?"

Wang Zixu said, "I have read it, and I even saw him this morning."

Zuo Ziliang said, "Because of the existence of the gaze of others, we must live in a prison of perspective, constantly disciplining our free will. Censorship is the gaze from public power."

"Our speech therapy is a creative activity that requires the free expression of free will. If there is a censorship, then it is no longer free, and the speech therapist will be shackled. Moreover, the criteria for censorship are quite ambiguous."

"For example, if I say 'Miss, you're so beautiful,' that's not against the rules, right? But if I say 'Miss, you're so sexy,' that's against the rules. Just one word can determine whether it's against the rules or not. Even if I can get it right, can thousands of speech therapists all get it right?"

"To put it another way, our interaction is a joint effort. If the girl says, 'I want to wear Pinru's clothes,' wouldn't it be reasonable for me to say, 'You're so sexy'? But I can't say that, because that would be against the rules."

"Once the review process begins, our speech therapists will be constantly torn between 'You're so beautiful' and 'You're so sexy,' and everyone will be trapped in a quagmire of self-censorship. Free will disappears, and all that remains is the careful consideration and meticulous word choice."

"Gaze is enslavement, censorship is punishment. I believe our Wen'ai app has absolutely no violations or illegal activities, but the moment we are reported and the censorship begins, the punishment begins. Even if we eventually pass the inspection, the shackles left by the punishment will remain forever, and we will be utterly defeated in the competition with other apps."

After Zuo Ziliang finished speaking at length, he grabbed a glass of cold water from the table and drank it down. Wang Zixu fell silent.

He pondered deeply. He thought about Sartre, existentialism, and 1984.

He also thought about his royalties, his wife, and Ning Chunyan's Porsche.

Finally, he stood up and placed his hands on the table: "In that case, our fate ends here."

"What do you mean?"

"I just want to earn some money; I don't want my life interfered with. I have a wife, and I can't expose my scriptwriting. I'm just doing a short-term job; I can't bear the fate of your app. Now that it's already intruding into my life, I have no choice but to say goodbye."

Zuo Ziliang sat blankly in his seat, his bald head reflecting the soft light of the coffee shop. Wang Zixu slowly stood up, waited a few seconds to see if he had anything to say, and finding him silent, he tentatively said, "Well, that's it then, I'm leaving."

He turned back and walked a short distance, making sure Zuo Ziliang wasn't chasing after him. He pushed open the door and went out, feeling somewhat relieved but also a little wistful.

It was chilly outside, the cool summer night air gently caressing his face. Just then, he felt a tremendous force pushing against his back, and he stumbled and fell onto the street. An arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him up.

"What are you doing? I'm telling you, don't force people to do things you shouldn't!"

Zuo Ziliang breathed a sigh of relief from behind: "Come with me!"

"Where to?"

"come over!"

Zuo Ziliang held Wang Zixu hostage, and the two of them twirled and danced as they walked down the street. After turning a corner, Zuo Ziliang pushed Wang Zixu in front of a bar.

"Go in."

"what?"

"Go in!"

Prince Xu pushed open the door, and the loud music hit his face directly. The heat wave mixed with alcohol and sweat entered his nostrils. The dazzling light from the LED screen cut out shapes in the darkness, and the silhouettes of the crowd danced in the wind like autumn grass.

"Come here." Zuo Ziliang grabbed his arm.

The light from the disco ball glided across Prince Xu's eyelids, red, purple, and yellow lights mingled, goblets clinked, and the soft bubbles of champagne made a "doo-doo" sound. Drumbeats, piano, saxophone—this gentle, amber-colored night.

Zuo Ziliang pulled him to the edge of the dance floor, pointed to the stage and said, "See that girl? The one playing the saxophone."

"I saw it. What's wrong?"

The light was too dazzling, and he could not actually see the person on the stage clearly. He could only see a white figure swaying slowly, holding a saxophone in his arms as if he were holding his dance partner.

"That saxophonist is the best jazz musician in Xihe City, or rather, the only jazz musician. Do you know jazz?" Zuo Ziliang said.

Like in "The Legend of 1900"?

"It's like in 'The Legend of 1900'," Zuo Ziliang said. "There are no sheet music, it's all improvisation, and anyone can join in at any time. It flows with the music, grows naturally, and relies solely on the melody hidden in one's soul."

Prince Xu said, "Is that so?"

Zuo Ziliang said, "But what's being played now is pre-recorded music; the improvisation is done by her alone. Because she's the only jazz musician in the entire Xihe district. No one is improvising with her. So, it's not jazz anymore."

Prince Xu looked at him: "What do you want to say?"

Zuo Ziliang extended his index finger and tapped it on his chest: "If you leave, Wen'ai will only have me improvising. There will never be another Wen'ai like jazz. Gone. Vanished. Permanently. Are you willing to accept that?"