I am not a literary giant

Chapter 83 Cao Xueqin and Proust (Thanks to Alliance Leader Luohua Mingyue)

"Hiss—Hiss—Hiss—"

The lost believer felt as if his lungs were a bellows, inhaling was like a suction, and exhaling was like a blower. With each inhale and exhale, his vocal cords emitted a hissing sound, which was extremely painful.

His gums ached, his feet hurt, and it felt like he'd been stabbed between his ribs. It was 7 a.m., and he was staggering along a lonely highway on the outskirts of the city. Ahead, the horizon stretched out over a tiny urban area, floating in the hazy morning mist.

"Hiss—ha—"

The believer squatted down, hands on his knees, looking down at the ground, questioning the meaning of life. A narrow crack ran along the concrete pavement, starting from behind him, passing between his legs, and extending all the way to the front.

Sakura-chan came running up from behind, asking, "What's wrong? Can't you make it?"

He didn't stop walking as he spoke, keeping a brisk pace. The believer waved his hand, drooled twice, and said:

"I'm too tired, I need to rest for a while."

Sakura-chan scoffed, "You need to rest after running 5 kilometers, and the rest time is almost as long as the running time."

The believer, panting heavily, said, "That's you. You exercise regularly, so you're definitely fine. I haven't run in ages, and now I feel extremely uncomfortable..."

Sakura-chan said, "I mainly train for strength. Actually, my weight is a disadvantage when running. Look, even Hachi is running, and the fire-breathing mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex is running. How can you rest?"

The believer gasped, "It's not a Tyrannosaurus Rex, it's Godzilla!"

Sakura, with her bronze head and iron arms, grabbed his arm and lifted him up like a chick: "You can't rest, or you'll never be able to run again. Come on, let's run together, one-two-one, one-two-one..."

"Stop pulling, it really won't work!"

Despite carrying a person and bearing most of their weight, Sakura-chan looked completely at ease.

"I think Teacher Little Prince's arrangement is really reasonable. I was so dizzy from listening to the lecture yesterday, but I digested all the knowledge while running this morning. I can't believe how strong I will become after these 20 days."

The believer said, "I might die after these 20 days."

The poet wore a white cropped athletic t-shirt that exposed her midriff, her pink hair was tied in a high ponytail, and she wore yoga pants. Among the group, her attire was the most appropriate for the occasion. Cheng Xing jogged up from behind and walked alongside her.

"Yesterday," Cheng Xing broke the silence, "after listening to Teacher Little Prince's lesson, what were your thoughts?"

The poet didn't answer for a long time before he regulated his breathing and said, "Very novel. These are all theories I've never heard of before."

Cheng Xing nodded: "I've studied creative writing. The theories he talked about were all very novel. I'd never heard of them before. They seemed like they came from a completely unorthodox background."

"Most writers are wild animals."

Cheng Xing asked, "Aren't you curious about his background?"

"I'm not interested in where he's from, I'm very interested in him as a person."

Cheng Xing said, "But his background is part of who he is. And you see, we all assume he has a literary background, which is actually quite interesting."

The poet said, "Those who work in literature do have an advantage in this field. I've proven that myself, so there's nothing surprising about it."

Cheng Xing said, "But I learned from a reliable source that he had never published any works before, and even when I posted his works online, he didn't rush to claim them, as if he didn't care at all. That's why I started to speculate about his identity."

The poet asked, "So, what did you guess?"

Cheng Xing said, "I suspect he is a figure like Cao Xueqin or Proust."

"Which aspect are you referring to?"

"He probably comes from an upper class, and his social circle consists of upper-class people. He doesn't want to show his face in public, so he never publishes his works."

"Sorry, I don't understand the upper class. Why can't the upper class publish their work?"

Cheng Xing said, "The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. That's how some circles are; you can't stand out."

The poet frowned slightly: "That doesn't explain why he would write a literary script."

Cheng Xing said, "Either you fall into poverty like Cao Xueqin, or you have a sudden awakening like Proust."

The poet extended a slender white finger and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, saying softly, "I don't know. I can't tell."

"Very mysterious."

"Hmm. Mysterious."

Cao Xueqin is also shrouded in mystery. With only half a book, he became world-renowned. Even now, various versions of *Dream of the Red Chamber* circulate globally. But no one can truly explain Cao Xueqin's background; only various speculations exist.

After Proust's death, he was able to have a grand funeral, with "In Search of Lost Time" escorting his coffin like angel wings. In contrast, Cao Xueqin could only die in cold and illness. The more transcendent the status of "Dream of the Red Chamber" is, the more it highlights the author's sorrow.

This further strengthened Cheng Xing's resolve. Regardless of the Little Prince's background, he was determined to assist him in ensuring the survival of this writing system and to reap rewards commensurate with his achievements.

Writers should not be born poor.

Wang Zixu stood at the apartment door; the scriptwriters had already vanished from sight. An Audi pulled up in front, and Ye Lan got out, the trunk slowly rising.

"You're here so early." Prince Xu raised his hand and glanced at his watch.

"I woke up around six in the morning. I've always had a high quality of sleep." Ye Lan got out of the car and went straight into the trunk, her voice becoming muffled.

When she got out of the trunk, she was carrying large and small plastic bags containing slippers, a mouthwash cup, a data cable, mosquito repellent liquid, and other miscellaneous items.

Prince Xu stepped forward and took the bag: "I'll carry it."

"for you."

The two entered the apartment, and Wang Zixu said, "I thought someone else would deliver it."

Ye Lan said, "This place is confidential. Isn't this all your request? Zuo Ziliang wouldn't do this kind of thing, so I'm the only one who can run errands."

Ye Lan not only went makeup-free in the morning, but her clothing style also changed slightly. She wore a simple, light yellow, semi-transparent gauze dress with a white camisole underneath and sandals on her feet, looking very casual and homey, as if she had just woken up and rushed over.

Ye Lan lifted her leg, waved it in front of his face for a second, and said, "What, you noticed I'm not wearing stockings today? Is that strange?"

Wang Zixu didn't want to start the conversation about stockings so early in the morning: "I didn't notice, I didn't pay attention."

"It's getting hotter and hotter now. Wearing stockings is stuffy and uncomfortable, but not wearing them seems unprofessional. Sigh, you have no idea how tiring it is to be a woman. I can only let loose a little in the morning, and then I have to go back and put them on when I go to work."

Wang Zixu glanced at the bags in his hands, then at her empty hands, remained silent for a moment, and then nodded, saying, "You're right, but you don't need to wear stockings. You don't have to wear them, actually."

"I wear what I like, so I'll wear it."

After the two tidied up the clutter, Ye Lan plopped down on the sofa and beckoned to the prince, "Come here."

"what?"

"Come here, sit down." Ye Lan patted the sofa. "I just want to show you something."

Wang Zixu walked over and sat down next to her, keeping a considerable distance between them.

Ye Lan said, "Last night, one of the speech therapists went crazy with our operations team, and I found out about it. I'll show you the chat history."

Wang Zixu took her phone and saw that Huang Da had sent many screenshots of chat history in the chat box.

Qiu Ze: [Wasn't the script supposed to be a perk? I don't want perks, can't I just get a raise on my reward for hard work?]

Huang Da: [This can't be mentioned. Perfect attendance is unrelated to other benefits.]

Qiu Ze: [But your script is completely useless. I don't even use it. I post it every single day. You guys should give me the money instead. I'd get a higher attendance bonus and more orders.]

Huang Da: [This really won't work... It doesn't comply with the regulations.]

Qiu Ze: [Let me tell you, it's not just me; several speech therapists here share this opinion. We don't need scripts; we can take orders on other apps anyway. Honestly, your pricing doesn't have much of an advantage either.]

Huang Da: [Are you threatening me?]

Qiu Ze: [Hehe, I didn't mean that anyway. It's your business what you think.]

……

After reading the chat history, Wang Zixu returned the phone to Ye Lan.

"How's Qiu Ze's performance?"

"Nobody, my sales performance is nowhere near top-tier." Ye Lan crossed one leg over the other. "I just thought it was interesting, so I showed it to you."

Wang Zixu noticed a sly glint in her eyes. She definitely didn't just show it to him because she thought it was "interesting."

(End of this chapter)