A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

October 21st, Friday.

In the classroom, Liu Yang was hunched over his desk working on his weekend math test, his pen moving rapidly across the paper. He had a bag of milk dangling from his mouth, the straw crooked at the corner of his lips, milk stains dripping down the bag.

"Where did you go yesterday?" Lin Shubai asked curiously.

Liu Yang didn't even look up. "I played video games all night long. I didn't go to sleep until six in the morning, and after sleeping for half an hour, I got up and went to school. I'm like a walking corpse now."

"You even know the term 'walking dead'?"

"We learned about it in English class last week: zombie, the walking dead." Liu Yang smugly smiled for a second, then continued scribbling away, "What's the answer to question five?"

"C".

"Sure?"

"Sure."

Liu Yang wrote a C on the test paper. Then he turned the page, suddenly stopped, looked up at Lin Shubai, and his eyes were serious as if he had suddenly remembered something very important.

"By the way, any news about your long novel?"

"It can't be that fast."

"Isn't that Editor-in-Chief Chen quite capable? Can't he handle it?"

"Even the best have to go through the proper procedures." Lin Shubai took his textbook out of his bag.

Liu Yang frowned, his brows furrowing into a deep frown: "So complicated? I thought you could just publish it whenever you wanted."

"Who do you think I am?"

"You're my brother," Liu Yang said matter-of-factly, his voice rising a beat. "Why can't my brother's writing be published right away? All those random books in bookstores can be published, and yours is a million times better than theirs."

Su Wan finally looked up and said expressionlessly, "Have you read any of those rubbish books?"

"no."

"Then how do you know it's ten thousand times stronger than them?"

"I feel it," Liu Yang patted his chest.

Seeing that Lin Shubai and Su Wan were both looking at him with speechless expressions, Liu Yang scratched his head, decided not to argue with them, and continued to work on his test paper. After completing two questions, he looked up again: "What about question six?"

"B."

"The seventh question?"

"You do it first."

Liu Yang pursed his lips and started scribbling on the test paper, muttering to himself, "A is wrong, B is wrong too, C is somewhat similar, let's choose D." Then he wrote D for himself and proudly shook his head after finishing.

Lin Shubai ignored him, took the math test out of the drawer and started checking the answers.

The first class in the morning was English. The teacher walked in, wearing high heels, and slammed her lesson plan on the podium. The whole class fell silent instantly. She opened her textbook and began to explain relative clauses, her voice loud and clear, spittle flying as she spoke.

Liu Yang, sitting in the front row, had already started nodding off, his head bobbing up and down like a chicken pecking at rice. The teacher spoke for about ten minutes, then suddenly stopped, his gaze sweeping across the whole class before finally settling on Liu Yang.

"Liu Yang".

Liu Yang abruptly raised his head, a trace of drool still clinging to the corner of his mouth: "Here!"

The whole class burst into laughter.

The teacher, expressionless, asked, "What did I just say?"

Liu Yang paused for three seconds, then said with great confidence, "A relative clause."

"What is in the relative clause?"

Liu Yang paused for three seconds, then asked, "...A relational pronoun?"

The teacher glanced at him, probably thinking that his ability to say the words "relative pronouns" was already an exceptional achievement, and waved his hand: "Sit down, don't sleep."

Liu Yang sat down, let out a long breath, turned his head and mouthed to Lin Shubai, "You scared me to death."

Lin Shubai suppressed a laugh and continued taking notes.

During the second break in the morning, Liu Yang was taking a nap at his desk when he was jolted awake by the sound of Old Chen's footsteps. Old Chen had a peculiar way of walking; his leather shoes made a particularly loud thumping sound on the floor tiles, like pile drivers, which could be heard from a great distance.

Old Chen appeared at the classroom door, holding an enamel mug that read "Advanced Worker," his gaze precisely fixed on Lin Shubai.

"Lin Shubai, come here for a moment."

Lin Shubai stood up and followed Old Chen to the office. Several students from other classes passed by him in the corridor. Someone recognized him and whispered, "That's the one who writes stories." Lin Shubai pretended not to hear, but his ears involuntarily turned red.

In the office, Old Chen sat down and pulled a piece of paper from a stack of documents on the table.

The preliminary results of the National Middle School Students' Innovative Writing Competition are out.

Lin Shubai took the paper. It had a list of names printed on it, and he found his name on the third line: "Lin Shubai, Grade 11 (3), passed the preliminary round of the essay 'Journey and Rejuvenation'".

"You passed." Old Chen said this with a smile on his face, exuding an aura of "my students are so promising." "More than 300 papers were submitted citywide, and 60 passed the preliminary round. Our school submitted eight, and three passed. You are one of them."

"The regional finals are on October 25th, Tuesday afternoon, in Shanghai. The topic will be given on-site and you'll have to write it down on the spot." Old Chen handed him a notification slip. "The location is the Affiliated High School of Shanghai Normal University. The school has approved your leave. Just go to the competition. You can make up the classes later. Attend your morning classes as usual. Go there after lunch and don't be late."

"I see."

"Alright, go back now." Old Chen waved his hand.

As Lin Shubai walked out of the office, he looked down at the notification slip in his hand, feeling quite pleased. The preliminary round was over; next was the live final. He took a deep breath, folded the notification slip, and stuffed it into his pocket.

After lunch, the three of them came out of the cafeteria. Liu Yang burped, Su Wan was looking at her phone, and Lin Shubai took out his phone to check the time—12:20.

"You guys go back first, I have something to do," Lin Shubai said to Su Wan and Liu Yang.

Liu Yang glanced at Lin Shubai, "Why are you being so mysterious?"

Su Wan was also a little curious, but she didn't ask any further questions and left with Liu Yang.

Lin Shubai took out his phone and dialed Chen Yuanshan's number.

"Teacher Chen, I am Lin Shubai."

"Shubai, what's up?" Chen Yuanshan's voice came through the receiver, and there were voices in the background, as if they were outside.

Lin Shubai walked to the steps by the playground and sat down. "Teacher Chen, I recently wrote a new novel and I'd like to submit it to 'October' magazine."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Chen Yuanshan's voice, tinged with surprise, came through: "You finished writing a new one so quickly! It hasn't been long since we last met, has it?"

Chen Yuanshan's surprise is normal; some veteran writers may not even have Lin Shubai's output.

"I got the hang of it, and the story wasn't too complicated, so I wrote it down." Lin Shubai's words sounded a bit like Versailles to Chen Yuanshan. It's a pity that the word Versailles isn't popular yet, otherwise Chen Yuanshan would definitely have teased Lin Shubai a bit.

Lin Shubai then added, "Professor Chen, do you have time recently? I'd like to meet with you to discuss the manuscript and also inquire about the publication of 'Charlotte's Web'."

Chen Yuanshan chuckled: "I was just about to tell you about this. I spoke with the editor-in-chief of the children's publishing house, and he read the manuscript and said the story was very good. But he wants to meet you in person."

"See me?"

"Yes. He said he wants to see what a high school student who wrote this looks like. Do you have time on Saturday?"

"some."

"Then come to our magazine office on Saturday first. I'll take a look at your manuscript, and then I'll take you to see the editor-in-chief of the children's section. We'll meet and talk. I'll send you the address later."

"Okay, thank you for your help, Teacher Chen."

"What's the trouble? If you always have good articles, I'd love for you to bother me more often."

A while later, Chen Yuanshan sent a text message. The address he sent was a coffee shop called Half-Day Leisure, which wasn't too far away and could be reached by bus.