A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

Thursday morning was sunny and bright.

Lin Shubai sat at his desk and read through the essay he had revised the night before. It was 1,600 words long, the handwriting neat and every word on the graph paper was written with great care. He read the last paragraph—"That was the back view of a father"—and felt it was about right.

He folded the manuscript paper, tucked it into his Chinese textbook, and stuffed it into his schoolbag.

Lin Shubai plans to hand in the revised essay to Lao Chen today.

Downstairs, Su Wan was already waiting at the entrance of the building.

Downstairs, Su Wan was already waiting at the entrance of the building. She was wearing a new pink short-sleeved shirt today.

Su Wan leaned against the wall, looking down at her phone. Her father had bought her that Nokia phone last month, and she treasured it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"You're here?" Su Wan looked up.

"Are you wearing new clothes today?" Lin Shubai asked casually.

Su Wan looked down at herself, then looked up at him and glared: "What do you mean 'wear it today'? I wore it yesterday!"

"Oh, I didn't notice."

"Are your eyes just for decoration? And do you even know what time it is?" Su Wan asked angrily.

"7:10?"

Su Wan shoved her phone screen right in front of Lin Shubai's face. "7:12! You're two minutes late again."

"You've been timing me every day, haven't you?"

"Why would I use a watch? I go by feel. My intuition is more accurate than a watch." Su Wan stuffed her phone into her pocket and walked forward with her head held high.

Lin Shubai followed behind and couldn't help but chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?"

"It's nothing, I just think your intuition is pretty amazing."

"Of course." Su Wan's steps became noticeably lighter.

The two walked to the bus stop, and while waiting for the bus, Su Wan seemed to suddenly remember something: "Oh right, Liu Yang said yesterday that he would bring me spicy strips today, he didn't forget, did he?"

"His memory isn't that bad."

"That's not necessarily true. Last time he borrowed five yuan from me, he didn't pay me back for three days. I had to block the entrance of the men's restroom to get it back."

"You're blocking the entrance to the men's restroom?"

Su Wan said matter-of-factly, "I didn't go in. I just stood at the door and shouted."

Lin Shubai imagined the scene for a moment and said, "As expected of you."

When I arrived at school, there were still twenty minutes before class. The school gate was already bustling with activity; bicycle bells were ringing all around, and only a few people were lined up at the breakfast stalls.

As Lin Shubai and Su Wan entered the school gate, they saw Liu Yang standing by the flower bed under the teaching building, holding two plastic bags in his hand and drinking bagged milk through a straw in his mouth. His schoolbag was placed next to his feet.

"Liu Yang!" Su Wan called out to Liu Yang.

Liu Yang looked up, saw them, and his eyes lit up. He ran over, carrying a plastic bag. His body jiggled as he ran, and he even forgot to take his schoolbag. Lin Shubai pointed it out to him before he turned back to pick it up.

"I've been waiting for you for ages!" Liu Yang said breathlessly.

As he spoke, Liu Yang handed the plastic bag to Su Wan, "Two packs of spicy strips, Weilong brand, I bought them specially from the convenience store."

Su Wan took it, opened it, glanced at it, and nodded in satisfaction: "You know what's good for you."

The three of them walked noisily towards the classroom. The morning at the end of September was already a bit chilly, the leaves of the sycamore trees along the roadside were beginning to turn yellow, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering golden fragments on the ground.

When Lin Shubai arrived at the classroom, quite a few people were already there. He put his schoolbag down, took out the essay, and stood up to walk towards the office.

"Shall we hand it in now?" Su Wan asked.

"Hmm, before class starts."

"Keep it up! If Lao Chen says it won't work, just say it's what I said, that he has bad judgment." Su Wan gestured to him.

Are you sure you want me to say this?

"Don't actually say that! I'm not stupid." Su Wan glared at him.

The office door was half open, and Old Chen was sitting in his seat eating breakfast: a steamed bun and a cup of soy milk.

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

Old Chen looked up, still chewing on a steamed bun, and said, "Come in."

Lin Shubai walked over and handed him the manuscript paper: "Teacher, I've finished writing my composition."

Old Chen put down the steamed bun, wiped his hands, and took the manuscript. He didn't look at it immediately, but first glanced at Lin Shubai before looking at the manuscript.

The office was quiet. The music for morning exercises from the playground drifted in from outside the window. Another teacher was hunched over his desk, grading papers, his red pen scribbling across the pages.

Old Chen read very slowly. His expression didn't change much. When he got to the middle, he paused, pushed his glasses up a bit, and then continued reading.

Lin Shubai stood to the side, feeling a little nervous. Although he knew the significance of this essay, Old Chen's reaction still made him somewhat concerned.

About ten minutes later, Old Chen put down the manuscript, took off his glasses, and sat down in the chair to look at him.

Did you write this?

"Yes."

"Did you write this yourself?"

Lin Shubai paused for a moment, then nodded: "I wrote it myself."

Old Chen looked at him for a while, then lowered his head, picked up the manuscript, and read it again.

"Sit down and talk," Old Chen said, pointing to the chair next to him.

Lin Shubai sat down.

Old Chen flipped through a stack of composition books on the table, found Lin Shubai's, and said, "Your last composition, 'My Ideal,' was about wanting to be a writer. This one, about your father, is much better than that one."

"Was it true that your dad bought you bread at the train station?" Old Chen asked.

"It's true, but it's been processed."

Old Chen nodded and put down the manuscript: "Keep this one; I'll take it to the school's preliminary selection."

"Thank you, Teacher Chen."

"Don't thank me," Old Chen said, taking a sip of water from his enamel mug. "I can only promote you if you write well. If you don't write well, nothing I say will make a difference."

Lin Shubai stood up, preparing to leave. Just as he reached the door, Old Chen suddenly called out to him, "Lin Shubai."

"Um?"

Old Chen pointed to the composition book on the table and said, "Write well, your dream might really come true."

Lin Shubai paused for a moment, then smiled and said confidently, "Okay, thank you, Teacher Chen."

As he approached the classroom door, he saw Su Wan craning her neck to look outside. Seeing Lin Shubai approach, her eyes lit up, and she lowered her voice to ask, "How did it go?"

Lin Shubai sat back down and took his textbook out of his bag. "Old Chen said to keep it and take it to the school's preliminary selection."

"Really!" Su Wan's voice was a little louder, and several classmates in the front row turned around to look. She quickly covered her mouth and whispered, "Does that mean there's a chance to compete in the city?"

"We don't know yet; we'll have to wait for the primary results."

"It'll definitely pass. Your paper was so well written, Old Chen isn't blind." Su Wan was quite confident.

After hearing this, Lin Shubai joked, "The way you're saying it makes it sound like Old Chen was blind before."

Su Wan glared at him: "You know that's not what I meant."

The school bell rang. The math teacher walked in, textbook in hand, and wrote a series of formulas on the blackboard. Lin Shubai looked at the blackboard, but his mind was elsewhere.

If he passes the school's preliminary selection, he can go to the city competition. If he wins an award in the city competition, his name will not only be known in his class, but throughout the entire school. For Lin Shubai, this is the first time he has truly become "famous".

He needs this. Not out of vanity, but because he needs an identity—the identity of "writing very well." The earlier and more naturally this identity is established, the less criticism there will be when his works are released later.

At lunchtime, Liu Yang sat down opposite me with a plate in his hand, a piece of braised pork still in his mouth, and asked, "I heard you handed in your essay. What did Old Chen say?"

"It's not bad."

"Not bad? Does that mean you'll be selected?" Liu Yang's eyes lit up immediately. "Then you'll be a great writer?"

"Don't talk nonsense, it's just an essay." Lin Shubai picked up a piece of tofu.

Liu Yang put down his chopsticks, his face serious. "If you win the award, it will be an honor for our class! Then I'll have something to brag about—Lin Shubai, my brother, won an award in a writing competition!"

"Are you using me to brag about?"

"What else can I do? I can't just brag about myself, can I? My essay only got a few points," Liu Yang said confidently.

Su Wan, standing beside her, almost spat out her soup laughing: "You'd be lucky to even pass your essay."

After finishing their meal, the three of them walked back. As they passed the playground, several junior high school students were squatting in a circle by the flower bed, looking at something.

Liu Yang was the kind of person who would flock to any exciting place, so he immediately ran over there eagerly.

Lin Shubai and Su Wan followed behind. Upon closer inspection, they discovered a large spider web in the corner of the flower bed, with a dragonfly struggling on it.

A boy wearing glasses squatted at the front, turned to his companion, and said, "This spider must be as big as my palm!"

Another tall boy leaned over and said, "It's about half a palm's width at most. But the net is woven quite beautifully, like the Spider Cave from the movies."

"That's a spider demon in the Spider Cave. Be careful not to get sucked dry." A girl next to him rolled her eyes at him, but still couldn't help peeking in. "Is it about to start eating? The dragonfly doesn't seem to be moving."

The spiderweb shimmered with fine silver light in the sunlight, its intricate web neatly woven. The dragonfly's wings were still flapping, but it was exhausted. The spider slowly crawled over.

Liu Yang squatted down, picked up a twig, and said eagerly, "Should we save it?"

Su Wan grabbed him, "Why are you trying to save it? Spiders need to eat too, you know."

"But the dragonfly is so pitiful." Liu Yang held up the branch, torn between two options.

"Then isn't the spider pitiful? It worked hard all morning to weave its web, and finally caught one. You let it escape, and it will go hungry today." Su Wan put her hands on her hips, looking like she was upholding justice.

Liu Yang paused for a moment, then threw away the branch: "What you said makes sense."

The boy with glasses looked up at Su Wan and nodded: "What this sister said is right, it's about the food chain, we just learned about it in biology class."

"That's great, classmate, putting what you've learned into practice." Su Wan gave him a thumbs up.

The tall boy, however, disagreed: "The food chain is one thing, but wouldn't it be a bit heartless of us to just stand by and watch someone die?"

"So, if you save the dragonfly and the spider starves to death, doesn't that make you cold-blooded?" the girl immediately retorted.

"I didn't say I'd save you..." The tall boy shrank back.

Liu Yang suggested from the side, "How about we flip a coin? Heads to save the dragonfly, tails to save the spider?"

"How can a coin save a spider?" Su Wan asked rhetorically.

"It's just... not saving the dragonfly."

Lin Shubai stood to the side, watching the spider web. The spider had already crawled to the dragonfly, but instead of biting, it circled around it, as if inspecting its prey. The dragonfly flapped its wings twice more, then became completely still.

Liu Yang stood up, dusted off his pants, and gave up on trying to reason with him: "Forget it, let's not concern ourselves with nature's affairs. Let's go, let's go back and rest for a while, we have English class this afternoon."

The middle school students dispersed. As the boy with glasses stood up, he casually picked up a fallen leaf from the edge of the flower bed, carefully approached the spider web, and gently touched the silk with the tip of the leaf.

"What are you doing?" the tall boy asked.

"I'll just touch it and see if the spider silk is really that sticky." As he spoke, he touched the spider silk with the tip of a leaf. The silk trembled slightly, and the spider warily withdrew its legs.

"Don't break it!" the girl shouted from behind.

"Touching it won't break it." He threw the leaf away, clapped his hands, and stood up.

The fallen leaf drifted to the ground, landing right at Lin Shubai's feet. A small piece of spider silk clung to the back of the leaf, shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

Lin Shubai glanced down, then, as if possessed, bent down and picked it up. He gently rubbed the spider silk between his fingers; it was smooth and resilient, like an extremely thin thread.

The instant his fingertips touched the spider silk.

【Trigger Keywords】

Spider silk + fallen leaves

Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)

Suddenly, a flood of words rushed into Lin Shubai's mind. It started with "Where did Daddy go with the axe?" and ended with Wilbur watching Charlotte's egg sac in the barn. Every character, every line of dialogue, every word Charlotte wove in her web was clearly etched in Lin Shubai's mind.

Lin Shubai paused for a second, then flipped the fallen leaf over, pretending to look at the veins on it.

"Why are you picking up leaves for no reason?" Liu Yang turned around and saw him squatting down, looking puzzled.

"Take a look." Lin Shubai stuffed the fallen leaves into his pocket and stood up.

"Why are you watching all sorts of things lately? Even Ye Zi is watching them. Are you trying to study biology?"

"Maybe."

Su Wan walked beside him, glanced back at Lin Shubai, and didn't say anything, but there was a strange look in her eyes.

During afternoon classes, Lin Shubai sat in his seat, his mind filled with images of the barn. The big gray spider, the pig named Wilbur, the little girl named Fern, and Templeton the mouse, the old sheep, Mrs. Goose…

This is a classic by E.B. White, with global sales exceeding 50 million copies. If "The Gift of the Magi" and "The Back View" are short stories, then "Charlotte's Web" is a full-length fairy tale, completely different in scale. A work of this length isn't suitable for submission to *Story Collection* magazine; it's too long. But what if it could be published?

However, publication is too far off; he hasn't even heard anything about the manuscript for "Story Club" yet, so thinking about it too much is pointless.