A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

When Lin Shubai came out of the arcade, it was almost dark.

In November, it gets dark early in Shanghai. The streetlights come on as early as 5 p.m. Liu Yang walks ahead, still reviewing his "highest score ever" of 150 points he achieved at the pinball machine that day. Although Su Wan later scored 280 points, he insists that "I was letting you guys win."

Lin Shubai's mind was still preoccupied with the book he had just unlocked. He vaguely recognized the name "Hugo Cabret's Invention" from his past life; it seemed to be a novel based on a film, or perhaps a novel adapted into a film—he couldn't quite recall. But the images that flooded his mind were clear: an orphan living in the clock tower of a Paris train station, a broken mechanical doll, a mysterious blueprint, and the question of whether the world was a giant machine.

On the bus, Su Wan held onto the handrail and asked, "Have you finished writing 'The Little Prince' yet?"

"Finished writing."

Su Wan turned to look at him. "So fast? Didn't you just start writing not long ago?"

"The story is already in my head, so it will be quick to write it down." Lin Shubai was telling the truth. He knew the original text of "The Little Prince" very well, and since "The Little Prince" was not very long to begin with, there was not much to change.

"So what are you planning to do? Go back to Editor-in-Chief Zhou?"

"Okay, let him take a look first."

When I got home, Wang Xiulan was watching TV in the living room. "The food is in the pot, help yourself. Your dad is working overtime and won't be home for dinner."

Lin Shubai ladled a bowl of rice and sat down at the table. The dishes were leftover braised pork and stir-fried vegetables from lunch. He reheated them; the pork was still a bit tough, but the taste was alright. Halfway through his meal, his phone vibrated.

Su Wan's text message: "When you're done writing 'The Little Prince,' can you show it to me?"

Lin Shubai replied, "I'll bring it to the school tomorrow; it'll be printed out."

"Okay, by the way, does Liu Yang know?"

"I don't know yet."

"Then don't tell him, let him worry for a couple of days."

After finishing his meal, Lin Shubai washed the dishes and returned to his room.

He sat down at his desk, turned on the lamp, and took out the notebook titled "Feed—Out" from the drawer. This was a record he made when he unlocked Shinichi Hoshi's collection last time, listing the titles and brief summaries of thirty-one short stories. He flipped through it, his gaze landing on two of them—"The Dinosaur in the Afternoon" and "The Artificial Beauty."

Lin Shubai decided that his next articles would be "Dinosaurs in the Afternoon" and "Artificial Beauty".

He had already made up his mind while eating; based on the novels he currently had, Shinichi Hoshi's short story was the best choice.

"Four Generations Under One Roof" is a novel by Lao She depicting the struggles of ordinary people in Beijing after its fall to the Japanese, showcasing the diverse facets of human nature against the backdrop of war. Although he only spent a few days in Beijing, he could at least say to the outside world, "I went to Beijing and experienced its atmosphere." Moreover, the War of Resistance against Japan is a history known to every Chinese person; one doesn't need to have lived in a particular place to write about it. A sixteen-year-old boy, having read many books about the War of Resistance, listened to stories told by his elders, and added his own imagination, wrote such a work—while still surprising, it is at least easier to explain than highly regionalized and personal works like "Red Sorghum Family."

The problem is that "Four Generations Under One Roof" is a novel of nearly one million words. Once you start writing it, you have to invest a lot of time, not to mention that you have to find a publisher after you finish writing it. Children's publishers are obviously not suitable for "Four Generations Under One Roof". Therefore, Lin Shubai decided to focus on short stories for the time being.

Shinichi Hoshi's thirty-one short stories are the best choice.

The stories are short, with few words per piece, making them quick to write. They maintain a consistent style, all being science fiction allegories, allowing them to be submitted to the same magazine. Moreover, the core themes of these stories are universal—human greed, the alienation of technology, and the absurdity of society—requiring minimal localization; simply changing a name or setting is sufficient.

What is "Dinosaurs in the Afternoon" about? He closed his eyes and went through the original text in his mind.

On an ordinary Sunday, surreal, ancient creatures began to appear around the world in chronological order. As time passed, the world seemed to rewind endlessly, with the evolutionary history of life on Earth being rapidly replayed in a single day, and dinosaurs making their appearance as expected in the "afternoon."

Meanwhile, in the basement of a military base, a naval commander is anxiously searching for the missing nuclear-armed submarine "X". The commander knows all too well the catastrophic consequences if the submarine goes out of control.

The silent drama of evolution continues: dinosaurs disappear, mammals appear, and finally, it's humanity's turn. Meanwhile, the military commander finally receives the worst possible outcome—the nuclear missile triggered by the submarine explosion has been launched, and everything is beyond repair.

This novel is short, but its core message is quite interesting—using dinosaurs as a mirror to reflect the absurdity of humanity. It doesn't require much localization; simply adjusting the descriptions of the dinosaurs' appearance and making the dialogue more Chinese-speaking will suffice.

"Artificial Beauty" is a different style altogether. It tells the story of a bar on the verge of bankruptcy, where the owner creates a beautiful robot named Booker, who is flawless in appearance and feels exactly like a real person, in order to attract customers.

The boss puts all his effort into the robot's appearance. The robot has no soul, no thoughts, and extremely low intelligence. It only knows a few fixed lines, obediently drinks alcohol, and is always aloof and gentle, never able to refuse people.

After the news spread, countless men flocked to see her, but no one noticed that all the drinks Booker consumed flowed back to the bar through a pipe under his feet, where the owner collected, filtered, and resold them to customers. By doing this, the owner made a fortune without any investment.

Later, a young man fell in love with Booker at first sight. He came to the bar every day to spend money, bring him drinks, and confess his love. No matter how affectionate he poured out his heart, the robot would only respond mechanically and without any emotion. Over time, the young man spent all his savings, became heavily in debt, and was completely penniless. On the last night, he put poison in Booker's glass and asked him to drink it.

In the end, the robot was not poisoned at all. The poison flowed back to the boss's wine cellar through the pipe. Business was booming that night, and the boss was in a great mood. He treated everyone to a free meal, distributing the recovered poisoned wine to all the customers and employees, and even had a drink himself.

This piece is also around two thousand words long, a social satire under a science fiction guise. It doesn't need major revisions; just change the setting to a Chinese city, change the characters' names to Chinese characters, and slightly adjust the descriptions of "beauty," and that will suffice.

These two pieces are quite different in style from the three he previously published in *Story Club*. "The Most Precious Gift" is heartwarming, "Lunch" is satirical, and "Spring Blossom Noodle Shop" is comforting. Shinichi Hoshi's two pieces lean more towards science fiction allegory, carrying a certain detached feel.

Where should we submit our votes?

It's definitely possible to publish it in *Story Collection*, but the style doesn't quite fit. *Story Collection* readers are more used to down-to-earth, relatable stories; they might not appreciate Shinichi Hoshi's austere science fiction allegory.

"October" and "People's Literature" are too "pure literature," so putting science fiction fables in them feels a bit out of place.

He thought of "Science Fiction World".

He certainly knew this magazine from his previous life—it was China's oldest and most influential science fiction publication. Back in 2010, it was the golden age of print magazines, and *Science Fiction World* had a substantial circulation and a stable readership. Moreover, Shinichi Hoshi's short science fiction fables were a perfect match for *Science Fiction World*.