I am not a literary giant

Wang Zixu felt that Ning Chunyan's thought process was unusual. But he was a mature, married man. A mature, married man wouldn't stoop to the level of an unmarried young woman.

"What do you want?"

"What I want to tell you is that you're making a mountain out of a molehill; you should be making a mountain out of a molehill."

Ning Chunyan leaned against the car window, wearing sunglasses. The engine was very loud, and she had to raise her voice to drown out the noise.

The prince asked tentatively, "What do you mean?"

"I was just thinking about why you haven't had any manuscripts accepted yet. You seem to regard the literary world as too sacred, which puts a lot of pressure on you. Actually, submitting manuscripts is a very easy thing. You should treat it like a game, and you'll get published as you go. That's how I got published in 'September' magazine."

Prince Xu smiled bitterly and said in a low voice, "But nothing in my life has ever been easy..."

"What did you say?"

"It's nothing."

Ning Chunyan actually heard it. She just couldn't understand what Wang Zixu meant by "not relaxed." Finally, she said:

"Then I can only hope that in the days to come, the world will treat you kindly."

"No, that's disgusting."

Perhaps because he grew up in a single-parent family, the world has been a horrific place in his eyes since childhood. Having stumbled and struggled to reach 30, it's quite disgusting to suddenly expect someone to treat him gently.

It would be better if it remained ferocious, baring its fangs, drooling, ugly and greedy, so that he could punch its nose flat without any guilt. Although it was only in his imagination.

Wang Zixu turned to look at her: "You really want to start a magazine?"

Ning Chunyan nodded: "Yes. I've been thinking about it for many days."

"Why did you suddenly decide to start a magazine?"

"It's probably like, suddenly finding a purpose in life," Ning Chunyan said. "Thoughts like, 'Little Ning, Little Ning, you can't keep doing nothing.'"

Wang Zixu said, "Xiao Ning, you should just stay idle. If you keep doing something, you'll easily bankrupt yourself."

"Oh!"

Ning Chunyan smiled dismissively, raising her head to reveal her proud, smooth neck, her demeanor like a swan: "Is it because I'm always laughing and joking with you that you don't know my capabilities? I still have some influence in the literary world!"

"Who is my older sister?"

"It's me!"

"I believe in your appeal, but not your business acumen."

"I just need to find someone with the ability to run a business."

Prince Xu said, "I just heard you mention the Little Prince. Who is the Little Prince?"

Ning Chunyan proudly turned her head away: "You wouldn't understand even if I told you."

"I'm sure I'll understand if you tell me."

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Ning Chunyan's face flushed slightly: "He's my idol! Okay, okay!"

The prince asked humbly, "You want to start a magazine for your idol?"

Ning Chunyan said, "Is it wrong to idolize celebrities?"

Wang Zixu said, "Your idol would think your behavior is pretty silly."

"It's not entirely about idol worship. It's just that my ideals have been touched," Ning Chunyan said in a very low voice. Wang Zixu didn't hear her clearly.

She looked up: "By the way, you really deleted the draft of your piece 'Wild Grasses'?"

"Deleted."

"Well," Ning Chunyan scratched his face, "I accidentally took your manuscript with me and forgot to return it to their editorial department."

Prince Xu suddenly turned his head: "You're only telling me now?"

Ning Chunyan waved her hand and said, "Don't rush, don't rush. I'm too lazy to go back now. I'll go home and copy it onto the computer for you, and send the electronic version to them. It's better for you to keep a copy in the future, even if it's just an electronic version."

Prince Xu's eyes softened; he felt that the world was truly treating him kindly.

Ning Chunyan then asked, "Have you considered submitting to other magazines?"

"Didn't they say you can't submit the same manuscript to multiple journals?"

"It's alright, submitting to a small magazine like *Xihe Literature* with a circulation of less than a thousand won't have much of an impact," Ning Chunyan said. "I suggest you submit to *Shancheng*. If it gets published in *Shancheng*, you can practically rule *Xihe*."

Wang Zixu said, "Okay, I'll consider giving it a try. But walking vertically is still more comfortable."

Ning Chunyan accelerated and drove to within five meters of Wang Zixu, then stuck his head out and said to him, "There's an essay competition in Xihe recently, keep an eye out for it."

Wang Zixu had heard of it. It was a competition themed around "dreams." It was organized by the Publicity Department of the Commission and the Writers' Association, but he felt he was too negative and not suitable to participate.

"Are you going to participate?" Prince Xu asked her.

"I'll participate," Ning Chunyan said. "I'll be a judge."

With that, the engine roared to life, and the Porsche sped away. Wang Zixu recalled the first day he met her—the same street, the same weather, the moment felt exactly like that one.

He didn't actually have any improper thoughts about Ning Chunyan. It was like the story of "The Dancing Girl of Izu" and "Spring Fever," where the male and female protagonists met by chance, had a beautiful encounter, but that was all.

In this world, you know that some people are fleeting, their presence a brief, unremarkable moment. You'll never truly cross paths with them again; it's just a brief encounter, then you'll forget them completely. Years later, perhaps you'll recall this person, a faint, orchid-like melancholy rising in your heart, greedily wondering why you didn't spend more time with them back then.

Prince Xu found a perfectly curved tree branch on the ground, probably fallen from a camphor tree by the roadside. He picked it up, pulled off the excess branches, leaving it straight, and held it in his hand as if he were holding a katana from the Bizen Osafune.

"The seas are churning, the clouds are raging; the five continents are shaking, the winds are howling. We must sweep away all harmful pests, leaving none alive!"

As the mature, married man recited his lines, he brandished a long sword, severing the stem of a roadside weed with a graceful and swift motion. Before anyone noticed, he threw the sword on the ground and slipped away.

……

That evening, Ning Chunyan put on her blue-light-blocking glasses. With delicate, graceful fingers, she gently pushed the glasses up to her nose. Exquisitely elegant. The person in the mirror was intelligent and beautiful; she was extremely satisfied.

She placed the cold brew coffee and Wang Zixu's manuscript on her desk. The manuscript was a thick stack, thirty thousand words, quite substantial. Typing it into the computer word for word would probably take several hours.

Ning Chunyan felt incredibly noble to be willing to spend a few precious hours of her life for someone she had only met twice. She secretly thought, "That married Prince Xu, you'll be moved to tears by my sister's great kindness."

Ning Bingru walked in, frowning. "Why are you drinking coffee so late at night?"

Ning Chunyan covered her mouth and yawned slightly: "I'll work a little overtime."

"Writing a thesis?"

"...Well, we'll discuss the paper later."

Ning Bingru picked up the manuscript beside her, read a passage, and his eyes lit up: "You wrote this?"

"No, it was written by someone else. I thought it was interesting and wanted to help submit it to 'Mountain City' magazine."

She turned to look at her father: "What do you think?"

Ning Bingru nodded and said, "I read the first few paragraphs. Your friend is from a professional acting background, right?"

Ning Chunyan shook his head: "Unorthodox. Exceptionally strong memory, amazing talent. It's just that he's a bit old."

Ning Bingru put the manuscript back: "You copy it first, I'll come back to check it tomorrow."

After her father left, the room fell silent. Ning Chunyan counted on her fingers, and while waiting for the word processing software to open on her computer, she scrolled through her phone for a while. Three minutes later, she finally turned to get her manuscript.

The moment her hand touched the manuscript, she felt as if she had been electrocuted, and froze on the spot, her heart rate soaring to an extremely high level.

After the father put the manuscript down, the papers were stacked together, and the word "Prince" was partially obscured on the line where the author's name was signed.

A full minute passed before Ning Chunyan felt her soul return to her body. She picked up the manuscript, revealing the covered part and showing the full name of "Prince Xu".

Ning Chunyan laughed with relief: "What's wrong with that!"

But then she frowned again, her fingers tracing the black and white words on the manuscript. Her worries did not lessen but increased.