A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

October 10th, Monday.

On the first Monday after the National Day holiday, the sky in Shanghai finally looked like autumn. The wind blew in through the cracks in the windows, carrying a dry coolness, and made the curtains in the back row of the classroom sway gently.

When Lin Shubai arrived at the classroom, there were still more than ten minutes before class started. He put his schoolbag away and took out the essay he had revised again and again—"The Journey and Rejuvenation," 1,800 words long, with neat handwriting.

He read it once and thought it was about right.

Su Wan, munching on a steamed bun beside her with her cheeks bulging, asked indistinctly, "Is it due today?"

"Okay, deliver it to Old Chen before morning reading."

Lin Shubai stood up, took the manuscript paper, and walked towards the office.

He had only taken two steps when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He took out his phone and saw a text message from Lü Jia: "Lin Shubai, is it convenient to call? The payment for the manuscript has arrived, and there's something else I want to talk to you about."

He stopped, took a few steps toward the corner of the corridor, and dialed the number.

"Teacher Lü?"

"Lin Shubai, good morning." Lü Jia's voice came through the receiver. The background was quiet, so she must have just arrived at the office. "Two things. First, your royalties remittance slip should arrive at the address you provided today. It's 3,240 yuan. Keep an eye on the post office. Once it arrives, just take your ID card and the remittance slip to the post office to pick it up."

"Okay, thank you, Teacher Lü."

Lü Jia's tone became more serious. "The second thing is that Mr. Chen Yuanshan, the editor-in-chief of the magazine 'October,' saw the two articles you published here and is very interested in them. He would like to arrange a meeting with you."

Lin Shubai was taken aback: "The editor-in-chief of 'October'?"

"Yes. Professor Chen is very influential in the literary circle. He has been an editor for more than 30 years and rarely takes the initiative to meet with newcomers. He read your 'The Most Precious Gift' and 'Lunch' and said that the ending sentence, 'Many authors who have been writing for ten years cannot write like this,'"

Lin Shubai paused for a second: "When does he want to meet?"

He said it depends on your availability. Is this weekend okay?

"Sure, Saturday or Sunday is fine."

Lü Jia suddenly smiled. "Okay, I'll arrange to meet him on Saturday. I'll send you the time and place then. He asked me to remind you that it's okay to wear your school uniform; he's already mentally prepared."

Lin Shubai couldn't help but chuckle, "Okay."

He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. It was the editor-in-chief of *October*. In his past life, he certainly knew the significance of this magazine—a top-tier publication among pure literary journals. Now, its editor-in-chief wanted to meet him.

He took a deep breath, put the matter aside for the time being, and continued walking towards his office.

The door to the Chinese language group's office was open. Old Chen sat at his desk, a stack of composition books spread out in front of him, grading them. Steam rose from the enamel mug, and half a half-eaten steamed bun sat beside it.

"Teacher Chen." Lin Shubai knocked on the door frame.

Old Chen looked up, saw it was him, and put down his red pen: "You're here? Finished your essay?"

"It's finished." Lin Shubai walked over and handed him the grid paper.

Old Chen took it, but didn't look at it right away. Instead, he placed it on the table and looked him up and down. "Your article in 'Story Collection' is being circulated among the language arts teachers. It's well-written."

"Thank you, Teacher Chen."

Old Chen picked up the essay and began to read it.

The office was quiet. Another teacher was hunched over his desk grading papers, his red pen scribbling across the notebooks. Old Chen read very slowly, pausing to think at certain points before continuing.

Old Chen pointed to the manuscript paper, "This angle is well chosen."

He paused, then added, "Your language is also solid, unlike some students who write essays full of slogans for this kind of question. They could probably pass the preliminary round without much trouble."

"Thank you, Teacher Chen."

"Don't thank me yet." Old Chen picked up his enamel mug and took a sip of water. "After the preliminary round, there's the regional final, where you'll be given a topic on the spot and have to write it down immediately. Whether you can make it that far depends on how you perform under pressure. Go back and read more, make sure you have the knowledge, then you won't be afraid of any topic."

"I see."

Old Chen put the essay away and waved his hand, "Alright, go back now."

Stepping out of the office, the sunlight in the corridor was just right. Lin Shubai returned to the classroom, and Su Wan immediately came over.

"Did you pay it? What did Old Chen say?"

"I said the preliminary round shouldn't be a problem."

Su Wan's lips curled up: "Then it will definitely pass. By the way, did you go out to make a phone call just now? I heard you talking in the hallway."

"Yes, it was Editor Lü from *Story Collection* magazine calling," Lin Shubai said in a low voice. "She said the payment for my manuscript has arrived and I should go to the post office to pick it up. She also said—"

He paused for a moment, and Su Wan moved even closer.

"The editor-in-chief of the magazine 'October' wants to meet with me."

Su Wan's eyes widened immediately: "October? That's the really prestigious literary magazine?"

"You know?"

"My dad has a stack of them on his bookshelf. I flipped through them, though I didn't really understand them," Su Wan said in a low voice, her tone full of excitement. "The editor-in-chief wants to see you? Lin Shubai, you're about to take off!"

"Don't talk nonsense, we just want to meet and chat."

"That's still amazing!" Su Wan patted his arm. "Your royalties have arrived, shouldn't you treat us?"

"Please. Add a chicken leg to the lunch at the cafeteria."

"Just chicken legs? Liu Yang would definitely object if he found out."

"Then add another pack of spicy strips."

"That's more like it."

At lunchtime, the three of them sat in their usual spot. In front of Liu Yang were three plates piled high with chicken legs, braised pork, and stir-fried vegetables, like a small mountain.

As I walked out of the cafeteria after lunch, the sun was shining brightly. A few boys were playing soccer on the playground, their shouts carrying from afar. Liu Yang, walking ahead, suddenly turned around: "Shubai, how's your novel coming along?"

"Almost done, I should be able to finish writing it this week."

"Show me when you're done writing."

"OK."

Su Wan added from the side, "I'll go first, you're second."

"On what grounds?"

"Because I helped him copy the vocabulary list."

"I even ran errands for him!" Liu Yang retorted.

Lin Shubai ignored them and continued walking. When they reached the bottom of the teaching building, Liu Yang ran off first, saying he was going to the convenience store to buy water. Su Wan, standing on the steps, suddenly asked, "Lin Shubai, when did the editor-in-chief ask you to meet?"

"Saturday. The exact time and location haven't been decided yet; Editor Lü said she'd send it to me later."

"What will you wear when you go?"

Lin Shubai looked down at his school uniform: "Editor Lü said it's okay to wear a school uniform, he was already mentally prepared."

Su Wan burst out laughing: "Even an editor-in-chief has to prepare himself mentally before meeting a high school student."

"I guess I was scared when Editor Lü met me last time, so I gave her a heads-up."

Su Wan laughed so hard her shoulders shook.

When school was over, Liu Yang chased after me from behind, slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder: "Shubai, don't forget to treat me. I only added one chicken leg today, you still owe me ribs."

"I remember."