I am not a literary giant

Chen Qiaosheng said, "Four months? That long? Wait a minute, let me go check which issue your article was published in, and what the title is. 'Wild Grasses,' right?"

Raymond Lam turned to Wang Zixu and asked, "Is 'Wild Grasses' from the Book of Songs?"

Prince Xu nodded: "Yes, it's from the Book of Songs. Wild grasses grow, glistening with dew. A beautiful woman appears, graceful and charming."

Lin Feng gave a thumbs up: "Brother Wang's memory has always been amazing. Why did you choose this particular story?"

The prince pondered for a moment how to explain, but found it difficult. Finally, he said, "You'll understand when you see it."

Ning Chunyan carefully read the manuscript. This novel tells a story from love to marriage.

The protagonist of the story is a college student at a prestigious university. During his summer vacation back in his hometown, he met a beautiful female employee at a flower shop. Their thoughts and conversations were highly compatible, as if they were telepathically connected, and he fell in love with her in an instant.

After a tumultuous journey of love and hate, a passionate pursuit, and overcoming opposition from both sets of parents, they finally came together. However, after marriage, he discovered that under the weight of life's pressures, his wife had become a mundane housewife, and in her eyes, he had become a failure in life. Marriage shattered all the luster of their relationship, eroded their passion, and dissolved their beauty.

In the end, the protagonist's wife is still beautiful in his eyes, but she is no longer the graceful and charming woman he first met, surrounded by flowers. The flowers have withered, thorns have begun to grow, withered branches and fallen leaves, and weeds have sprung up. He also feels that he is ugly, a failure in life, and unworthy of her.

When Ning Chunyan first started reading, her expectations had been greatly lowered by the works of the previous two authors, so she approached this work with a relaxed and condescending attitude. However, after reading the beginning, her attention was immediately drawn in.

Wang Zixu's writing style is fresh, concise, and crisp. It may seem to lack aphorisms or golden phrases, but every word is carefully crafted. It is easy to read aloud and evokes vivid images in the mind. It is the kind of good that makes people unable to pinpoint exactly what is so good about it.

His writing style reminded her of many famous authors, such as Hemingway, Nabokov, Su Tong, and the early Yu Hua. But upon closer examination, it resembled none of them, unlike any literary work she had ever read.

In short, after reading this story, she was very impressed with Prince Xu. She had previously thought he was just a frustrated young intellectual, but she hadn't expected that appearances could be deceiving; he actually possessed real skills.

However, this only made her find it more bizarre. To intend to publish a work of this caliber in a publication like "Xihe Literature" was like a boxer going to a kindergarten to find an opponent.

Ning Chunyan slapped the manuscript onto Wang Zixu's chest and said, "It's well-written! Have you written anything else?"

Wang Zixu said, "I've written quite a lot, but only submitted a few. And none of them were published."

Ning Chunyan said, "Submit it more often! Why not submit it now that you've written it?"

Wang Zixu said, "I only submit my best work to magazines. If it's not good, I delete it and don't keep any copies. I didn't keep a copy of this one either."

Ning Chunyan said, "You're a bit of a perfectionist. Which literary magazines did you submit to before?"

Wang Zixu said: "The journals 'The Gain,' 'September,' and 'Xihe Literature and Art'."

Ning Chunyan said, "Pfft..."

She understood why Prince Xu exuded a sense of unfulfilled talent and ill-timed birth when they first met.

Ning Chunyan patiently explained, "The magazines 'Get' and 'September' are top-tier literary magazines. As a newcomer, it's unlikely they'll accept your submissions. You can revise them and submit again."

Wang Zixu shook his head: "Every piece I write is perfect in my own eyes, there is no room for change. Instead of asking me to change it, I would rather write a new one."

Ning Chunyan covered her forehead: "That's why you couldn't get the ball up."

Prince Xu remained noncommittal.

He didn't know how the editors who reviewed his work thought out of a particular mind, but every novel he wrote with his heart (excluding Wen Ai's scripts) was a work he created by emptying his soul. No one knew the price he paid to write those works.

If his work isn't appreciated, it means his soul isn't appreciated. If his hairstyle is ridiculed, he can get a different barber; if his clothing is criticized, he can return it and buy a new one. But if his soul isn't appreciated, he can do nothing. Because the soul cannot be changed.

A soul that is not liked can only wait. Wait for someone who can appreciate it.

Chen Qiaosheng walked over, holding a handwritten notebook:

"Found it. Your story has been scheduled for next month's issue."

Wang Zixu took the notebook from him, stared at his own name on it, and looked somewhat bewildered.

Ning Chunyan raised her voice: "This is such a well-written piece, why is the queue so long?"

Chen Qiaosheng said, "Of course there are special circumstances. You see, in our magazine, the fiction section only has space for three to four articles per issue, and everyone else's are short stories of a few thousand words. But his article is as long as 30,000 words, almost the length of a novella. It's not easy to format."

Ning Chunyan said, "Then let's add a few pages."

Chen Qiaosheng said with difficulty, "Our budget is only so much, adding a few more pages would be too much trouble."

Raymond Lam said, "You still haven't explained why he waited in line for so long."

Chen Qiaosheng said, "Sigh, if you want to be at the front of the line, just tell me earlier! You have no idea how difficult this job is. Everyone comes to say hello, it's like playing cards, and in the end it all comes down to who gets the best card. It's really tough for us!"

Chen Qiaosheng spoke with a lot of resentment, and Lin Feng patted him on the shoulder and said, "Alright, alright, Lao Chen, I know you're in a difficult position."

Chen Qiaosheng frowned: "Right? These days, it's tough for everyone, but I guarantee that since you're here, this position is yours without hesitation, and no one can move you."

Ning Chunyan frowned as she stared at him. She didn't like this person very much. He had absolutely no respect for literature.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Chen Qiaosheng looked up at Wang Zixu: "What?"

"Why didn't you tell me my manuscript was accepted?" Wang Zixu looked up from his notebook. "You should have told me!"

Chen Qiaosheng was a little at a loss: "Doesn't not rejecting the manuscript mean it's been published? This has been the practice for many years."

Prince Xu said, "But how wonderful it would have been if you had told me."

Chen Qiaosheng picked up his teacup and glared at Wang Zixu, thinking that this man might have some problems.

What he didn't know was that the rejection of his manuscript by *Xihe Literature* was the final bullet that pierced Wang Zixu's psychological defenses. It was only natural that his manuscripts weren't accepted by *Get* and *September*; he would have tried again. It was the rejection by *Xihe Literature* that truly broke him down.

It can be said that a few small acts of arbitrariness with power changed Wang Zixu's life. If someone had told him at the time, "Actually, your manuscript was accepted by Xihe Literature," he would never have gone to write Wen Ai scripts, nor would he have become the Little Prince.

Lin Feng patted him on the shoulder: "Brother Wang, forget it. What's done is done. Today was actually a happy occasion for everyone. Let's go out for a late-night snack tonight."

Wang Zixu swallowed the sob in his throat, sniffed, and handed the notebook back to Chen Qiaosheng.

"Talented Ning! So you've been here!"

A frivolous voice came from the doorway. Wang Zixu looked up and saw Shen Qingfeng.

Shen Qingfeng walked in, glanced at Wang Zixu, and laughed, "Isn't this Lin Feng and Brother Caiming? What, Vice Chairman Lin, are you bringing Brother Caiming to the Writers' Association to recite names of dishes and show off your literary skills?"