A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

Tuesday, March 14th.

Lin Shubai sat on a chair in the activity room with a notebook open in front of him, the one he used to write "Hugo in the Clock Tower".

"Hugo in the Clock Tower" is not an ordinary novel; it is a picture book novel, with text and illustrations each making up half of the book. In some chapters, there are even more pictures than words. The original illustrations are so exquisite that they are like a silent film, with every frame telling a story. He can reproduce the text, but he cannot draw the pictures.

Last week, he called Zhou Mingyuan and asked if the publishing house could recommend an illustrator. Zhou Mingyuan readily agreed, saying that the publishing house had several long-term collaborators with mature styles and rich experience, and the price was negotiable. Lin Shubai agreed and asked if Zhou Mingyuan could help him inquire about availability.

The next day, Zhou Mingyuan called back. There were two suitable illustrators, but they were both on the waiting list. The fastest one would have to wait a month and a half before they could start drawing. After a month and a half, they would start drawing and it would take at least another month to finish. By the time the book came out, summer vacation would be over.

Lin Shubai hung up the phone and sat at his desk thinking for a long time. A month and a half was a bit long, but he couldn't possibly draw it himself. The most complicated thing he had ever drawn was a diagram of a chemical experimental apparatus. The round-bottom flask he drew looked like a crooked gourd. After Wang Xiulan saw it, she was silent for a while and said, "You should just write by hand from now on."

So he needs someone he can start drawing right now, and that person needs to be close enough that he can walk over and say, “This place is wrong, look, the light should be coming from the left”—instead of being separated by a province and communicating back and forth by phone and email.

"You were looking for me?"

Shen Yue stood at the door, holding a bag of milk in her mouth. This was the person Lin Shubai had thought of; the cover she had drawn before was really good.

"Well, I have something I'd like to discuss with you. Please have a seat." Lin Shubai gestured to the chair opposite him.

Shen Yue walked in and sat down opposite her. "What is it? I was just about to go to the art studio."

"I'd like to collaborate with you on something."

"What?"

Lin Shubai pushed the notebook over, which contained the story outline he had already conceived and the content he had written before. "I'm writing a new story, which takes place in the old North Station of Shanghai in the 1930s. It's about an orphan hiding in a clock tower, a mechanical doll, and a toy store owner. This story needs a lot of illustrations, dozens of them. I want you to draw them."

"Dozens of paintings?" Her voice was a little louder than usual.

"About thirty to forty pictures, some are large double-page spreads, and some are small illustrations."

"Are you crazy or am I crazy?"

"They've probably all gone mad."

Shen Yue stared at him for two seconds. "I've never drawn so many pictures before. I haven't even passed the art college entrance exam. I'm just an amateur."

"Your cover design is excellent; the principal said it could be used as the official cover of the school magazine."

"That was just luck. I drew more than a dozen drafts, but only one was acceptable."

"Then draw dozens of drafts."

Shen Yue opened her mouth but couldn't say anything. She looked down at her hands, where there was pencil ash on her fingers and a bit of blue paint stuck in her fingernails. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke: "Why don't you find an illustrator from a publishing house? They're professional and can draw quickly."

"I've looked for it."

"and then?"

"It will take a month and a half, I can't wait that long."

Shen Yue was taken aback. "That's the reason?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"I thought you would say something like 'because you drew the best'."

Lin Shubai glanced at her. "Your drawing isn't the best right now, but you might be better than them. The key is that you're at school, so I can find you anytime. If you draw it wrong, I can tell you in person. I can see your corrections right away. It's hard to explain this kind of drawing over a phone line."

Shen Yue rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. She picked up the milk carton and took a sip. The milk was empty, and the straw made a hissing sound. She crushed the empty carton and threw it into the trash can in the corner with precise movements. "Okay, I'll give it a try, but don't expect me to finish it in a few days. I still have classes and I have to draw the cover for 'Hope' magazine."

"Draw one over the weekend and show it to me next Monday."

"Is one enough?"

"Draw one first, and if it feels right, then move on to the next one. If it doesn't work, stop. I won't waste your time."

Shen Yue thought for a moment, then nodded. "Then tell me, what should the first painting be?"

Lin Shubai opened his notebook and turned to the middle of the first chapter. "Hugo was squatting behind the shelf, clutching a gear in his hand, while Old Mei stood a few steps away watching him. The shadows of the two men were stretched long by the afternoon sun, one huddled together, the other standing ramrod straight."

"Lin Shubai, don't blame me if the drawing is a mess."

"I believe you can do it."

Shen Yue rolled her eyes, pushed open the door, and went out.

Lin Shubai opened his notebook and began writing the first chapter.

After typing a few lines, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out and saw a text message from Su Wan: "You walk home by yourself after school today. I'm going for a run."

Su Wan has been running recently, not the kind of running that is forced in physical education class, but running voluntarily. She runs a few laps around the playground every day after school, saying that she is "training her physical fitness".

He thought for a moment and replied, "How far?"

Five laps today.

"Didn't you just run three laps yesterday?"

"Take it one step at a time. Haven't you looked at the physical education textbook?"

"I've seen it, but you're progressing faster than I expected."

"Do you think I'm like you, a slow writer?"

Lin Shubai placed his phone face down on the table and couldn't help but chuckle. To be honest, his writing speed was definitely fast.

He picked up his pen again and continued writing.

"Hugo finally told Mei his original intention in repairing the doll. Seeing the determination in Hugo's eyes, Mei decided to help him find the parts to repair the doll. She also unexpectedly discovered that there was a heart-shaped keyhole on the doll's chest - which meant that a heart-shaped key was needed to activate the doll."

"By chance, Xiaomei discovered that the necklace she was wearing, given to her by Mr. Mei, had a heart-shaped key as its pendant. The two of them immediately took the key to the doll, carefully inserted it into the keyhole, and turned it 180 degrees."

"With the 'click' of the gears turning, the long-silent puppet slowly came to life. Its arm rose, holding a pen, and it slowly sketched a pattern on the paper—a classic scene from 'A Trip to the Moon': a rocket flying towards the moon and crashing into the eye of a lunar man."

"This scene was witnessed by Mr. Mei. His eyes instantly reddened, and after a long silence, he finally revealed a secret he had kept hidden for many years: In his youth, he was a magician, but later became fascinated with film and became a pioneer of early cinema. 'A Trip to the Moon' is his masterpiece."

"But then war broke out, the film industry declined, his company went bankrupt, all the film reels were melted down and made into toys, and he shut himself off from then on, living in seclusion in a toy store at the train station, never wanting to mention his past glory again."