A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

October 8th, the first morning after the National Day holiday.

When Lin Shubai arrived at the entrance of the residential area, Su Wan was already waiting there, carrying a plastic bag containing two steaming hot buns.

"Good morning." Lin Shubai walked over.

Su Wan looked him up and down: "Shouldn't your magazine be at the newsstand today?"

"It should be. It's the first half of October's monthly issue; today is the 8th, it should have arrived by now."

"Then why don't you buy a copy?"

"We already have three sample copies at home. Didn't I show them to you yesterday?"

Su Wan thought for a moment: "I'll buy another copy and keep it at school. I saw the sample copy yesterday, but buying it myself feels different."

The two walked towards the bus stop. After the rain at the end of September, the temperature had dropped several degrees, and the morning breeze already had a slight chill on their faces. The osmanthus flowers in the neighborhood hadn't finished blooming yet, and a faint, sweet fragrance wafted in the air.

"What was your mother's reaction when she saw the sample copy yesterday?" Su Wan asked.

"I'm very happy. My dad even went out of his way to buy a fish, and made braised fish and sweet and sour pork ribs for dinner to celebrate."

Su Wan nodded. The bus arrived, and the two of them squeezed on.

When she arrived at school, there were still fifteen minutes before class. The newsstand window at the school gate was already open, and the newsstand owner, a man in his fifties wearing reading glasses, was arranging a stack of newspapers. Su Wan tiptoed to look at the shelf and found the red-covered "Story Club" magazine on the top shelf—the first half of October 2010.

"Boss, how much is this one?"

"Eight pieces."

Su Wan took out eight yuan from her pocket and handed it over, then took the magazine and flipped to the table of contents. Although she had already seen it at Lin Shubai's house yesterday, seeing the three characters "Lin Shubai" printed on it still felt different. She stared at the words for two seconds, then stuffed the magazine into her schoolbag.

Most of the students had already arrived in the classroom. Lin Shubai walked to his seat and took his textbook out of his bag. Su Wan sat down next to him, took out her newly bought copy of "Story Collection" from her bag, flipped to the story "The Most Precious Gift," and began to read. She had actually read it twice yesterday, but reading it in the classroom today felt different.

Liu Yang, sitting in the front row, turned around, a straw in his mouth, drinking a bag of milk. His eyes lit up when he saw the magazine in Su Wan's hand: "Hey? We're here?"

"Just bought it." Su Wan said without looking up.

"Let me see! Let me see!" Liu Yang reached out and took the magazine. "I've been waiting for several days. I asked at the newsstand at the school gate three times, and they all said it hadn't arrived yet."

He flipped to the table of contents and immediately found the name "Lin Shubai". Then he turned to the main text and read the first sentence: "'Cuifang stood in front of the mirror, looking at her long, black braid'—Shubai, you wrote a great opening. It immediately grabbed my attention."

"You actually know it's well-written?" Su Wan teased.

"Although my Chinese isn't great, I can still tell if someone is good or bad." Liu Yang continued reading, and when he got to the part about Cuifang cutting off her braids, he touched his hair and thought, "That woman is ruthless."

"What do you know? This is called love."

"You understand now?"

Liu Yang flipped through the magazine several times, then asked, "What about your article 'Spring Blossom Noodle Shop'? Next month?"

"Yes, the first half of November."

"I'll buy it then. I'll keep this issue for now." Liu Yang said, stuffing the magazine into his bag.

Su Wan reacted quickly and snatched it back: "I bought this with my own money. If you want to keep it, buy it yourself."

"I'll go buy it after class!" Liu Yang patted his chest confidently. "I'll buy two! One for myself, and one to send to my cousin!"

The school bell rang. Liu Yang turned back, temporarily putting aside the matter of the magazine.

During the second break in the morning, the classroom was noisy. Lin Shubai was looking down at his Chinese textbook and didn't notice that two boys in the back row were huddled together reading a magazine.

The two boys, Zhang Wei and Li Haoran, were both in the same class. Zhang Wei had passed by the next classroom on his way to the restroom and saw someone reading "Story Collection," so he borrowed it to flip through. He was just looking around casually when he saw a familiar name in the table of contents.

"Lin Shubai?" Zhang Wei pointed to the catalog and said to Li Haoran, "Look at this name."

Li Haoran leaned closer for a look: "Lin Shubai? That Lin Shubai from our class?"

"Same name, right?"

"That's true." Li Haoran nodded. "It's probably just a coincidence of names. This name isn't that rare."

Things started to change during the third break.

"Zhang Wei," Li Haoran patted Zhang Wei in the front row, "come and take a look, this article is about Shanghai."

Zhang Wei leaned closer for a look: "It really is. The alleyways and small rooms of Shanghai... isn't this just like our area?"

The two people looked at each other.

"Could it really be him?" Zhang Wei asked in a low voice.

"I don't know. Why don't you go ask?"

"Come on, don't you know him well?"

"I'm not familiar with him, but you are?"

The two exchanged a glance, stood up, and walked towards Lin Shubai's seat.

Lin Shubai was flipping through his textbook for the next class, while Su Wan sat beside him, head down, reading a magazine. Zhang Wei walked to the table, paused, and said somewhat uncertainly, "Lin Shubai, I need to ask you something."

Lin Shubai looked up: "What is it?"

"Um... there's an author in 'Story Collection' with the same name as you, is that you?"

Lin Shubai glanced at him and nodded: "It's me."

Zhang Wei and Li Haoran were both stunned for a moment.

"Did you really write this?" Zhang Wei's voice rose slightly involuntarily, but he quickly lowered it. "I thought it was just someone with the same name!"

Zhang Wei and Li Haoran exchanged a glance, both with expressions of "That's amazing!" Zhang Wei wanted to say something more, but the class bell rang, and the two had no choice but to return to their seats.

The fourth period was physics. The class was quiet, but Zhang Wei was clearly distracted. He secretly used his phone to search for the payment standards for articles in "Story Collection" magazine. After searching, his mouth dropped open in an "O" shape, and he shoved the phone screen at Li Haoran next to him. Li Haoran glanced at it, and his eyes widened as well.

After class, Zhang Wei and Li Haoran huddled together and whispered among themselves.

"Three or four hundred yuan per thousand words, two articles together total more than six thousand words, that's more than two thousand yuan, right?" Zhang Wei counted on his fingers.

"Not only that, I've heard that exceptionally talented people can achieve even higher," Li Haoran said.

"He earned over two thousand in a week? I only get two hundred in pocket money a month."

"That's just their skill. Didn't you read those two stories? They were really well-written."

The two people weren't speaking loudly, but several classmates around them caught snippets of conversation—"Lin Shubai," "Story Club," "Manuscript Fee"—which piqued their curiosity.

A boy named Zhao Lei, who sat behind Zhang Wei, was usually quiet but had sharp ears. Hearing the words "Lin Shubai" and "Story Club," he couldn't help but interject, "What's wrong with Lin Shubai?"

Zhang Wei hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and said, "Lin Shubai published two articles in 'Story Club'."

Zhao Lei was stunned for a moment: "Really?"

"It's true. He admitted it himself."

Zhao Lei didn't say anything more, but he remembered it.

At lunchtime, the cafeteria was bustling with activity. Lin Shubai, Su Wan, and Liu Yang sat in their usual spots, eating as usual. But people at the neighboring tables would occasionally glance in their direction—the news was slowly starting to spread.

And so it went, from one to two, from two to three. During breaks, someone would walk up to Lin Shubai's desk and ask, "Is this you?" After receiving an affirmative answer, they would thoughtfully return to their seat and say to the person next to them, "Did you know that Lin Shubai published an article in 'Story Club'?"

During the last self-study period, after finishing his homework, Lin Shubai took out a graph paper and continued writing "Charlotte's Web".

Old Chen then sat down and said, "I have two things to say."

Old Chen opened the folder on the table and pulled out a piece of paper.

"First thing. The results of the citywide middle school essay competition are out."

Old Chen glanced down at the paper, then looked up. His expression remained unchanged, but his voice was a little louder than usual: "Lin Shubai from our class won first prize in the first-year high school group for his essay, 'The Back View'."

There was a moment of silence, then applause began.

Lin Shubai sat in his seat, his heart skipping a beat. He felt Su Wan's gaze beside him, and he also felt Liu Yang's beaming face when he turned around in front of him.

"How many first prizes were there in the whole city?" someone asked.

Old Chen pushed up his glasses: "There are fifteen in the whole city for the first year of high school. Our school only has Lin Shubai."

This time the applause was louder. Liu Yang clapped his hands a few times, and was glared at by Old Chen, but he couldn't help himself and clapped twice more before stopping.

"Quiet." Old Chen tapped the podium, and after the applause subsided, he continued, "This is a good result, but don't be complacent. There are bigger competitions to come."

He looked at Lin Shubai as he said this, and Lin Shubai nodded.

"The second thing," Old Chen pulled another piece of paper from the folder, "is that the preliminary round topics for the National Middle School Students' Innovative Writing Competition have been released."

People below began to whisper among themselves.

Old Chen unfolded the paper and read aloud: "Preliminary round question—choose one of two."

"Question 1: Write an essay entitled 'Journey and Rejuvenation,' with no restrictions on genre or word count."

"Question 2: Write an essay entitled 'The World I Live In,' with no restrictions on genre or word count."

After he finished reading, he put the paper down and looked at the whole class.

"Choose one of the two topics. The requirements are originality and innovation; you can't write about clichés or formulaic things. The organizing committee is looking for angles and depths that others can't offer."

His gaze then fell on Lin Shubai: "The deadline for submission is October 15th, which means you have a little over a week. The topic isn't difficult, but writing a good one won't be easy. Go back and think it over carefully, don't rush to start writing."

"Alright, let's continue studying. Lin Shubai, come here for a second."

In the office, Old Chen sat down, took out an award certificate from his drawer, and handed it to Lin Shubai. It had a red cover with the words "Citywide Middle School Student Essay Competition" printed in gold lettering. Lin Shubai opened it; inside was his name, the title of his essay "The Back View," and the words "First Prize, Grade 11."

"Here's the certificate. There's also an award certificate; the school needs to make a copy for their records, I'll give it to you in a couple of days." Old Chen picked up his enamel mug and took a sip of water. "First prize in the city, that's quite prestigious. Keep it safe."

"Thank you, Teacher Chen."

Old Chen put down his cup, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Lin Shubai: "I saw your two articles published in 'Story Club' this morning."

"Teacher, you found out too?" Lin Shubai was a little surprised that Old Chen found out so quickly, because no matter how you looked at Old Chen, he didn't seem like someone who would read story magazines.

"I first heard about it from my students, and then I went to see it myself."

"I've read both *The Most Precious Gift* and *Lunch*," Old Chen said calmly, but with a serious tone. "They're very well written. Especially the power of the last sentence in *The Most Precious Gift*, 'Of all those who give gifts, these two were the wisest,' lies in its redefinition of the word 'wise.' Most people think being wise means being shrewd and not taking a loss, but these two people you wrote about sold their most valuable possessions in exchange for gifts they couldn't use. From a utilitarian perspective, it's simply foolish. But you say they were the wisest. Why? Because they received something more precious than gifts—unconditional love for each other."

After saying this, Old Chen paused, picked up his cup, and took another sip of water.

"The fact that you can write sentences like this shows that you have your own understanding of the word 'love.' This is a talent, so cherish it."

"Also, you heard about the topics for the innovative writing competition," Old Chen said, changing the subject. "'The Journey and Rejuvenation' and 'The World I Live In' are both topics, but it's not easy to write something original. Go back and think carefully about which topic to choose and how to write it. Submit it to me before October 15th. Don't rush, and don't procrastinate. Find the angle that moves you the most before you start writing."

"I see."

"Alright, let's go back."

Lin Shubai walked out of the office, clutching the award certificate in his hand. People came and went in the corridor, sunlight streaming in through the windows, cutting the floor into patches of light and shadow. He paused at the classroom door, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open to go inside.

Su Wan looked over immediately, her gaze landing on the red certificate in his hand. She didn't speak, but the corners of her mouth were already turned up.

Lin Shubai returned to his seat and placed the certificate on the table. Su Wan took it, glanced at it, then closed it and returned it to him.

Liu Yang, who was in the front row, turned around, saw the certificate on the table, and reached out to take it, but Su Wan slapped his hand away.

"Your hands are dirty," Su Wan said.

"Where are my hands dirty? I just washed them!" Liu Yang held out his hands for her to see.

"You can't see it yet. You can see it after class."

Liu Yang reluctantly withdrew his hand, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face, as if he were the one who had won the award.

Lin Shubai sat in his seat, staring blankly at the cover of his textbook.

"Journey and Rejuvenation" and "The World I Live In"—he had something to write about both topics, but hadn't decided which one to choose yet.