I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 257 The Confluence of Two Lonely Rivers

a few days later.

Wang Zixu and Ye Lan pushed open the door of the Wen'ai Club training base, releasing the loneliness they had been confined for so long.

The base was deserted. Apart from a wooden sofa, most of the furniture in the lobby had been removed, leaving only faint outlines. A transparent plastic bag lay in the center of the floor, resembling an oversized condom.

Wang Zixu inexplicably recalled a passage of suggestive text he had written:
"...I went to a pirated bookstall, and the shopkeeper gave me an opaque plastic bag. I thought, that's my self-esteem's condom, wrapping up my poverty and pride, preventing the brewing resentment from shooting out at the world—I can't say whether it's protecting the world or protecting myself..."

According to feedback from many speech therapists, many users, especially wealthy women, responded well to this metaphor, saying that it possesses a kind of wild vitality that is inexplicably alluring.

This was completely different from what Prince Xu had imagined. He had thought that only those who had experienced hardship could understand this self-deprecating humor, which contained a bloody sense of inferiority and pleasure.

Later, Zuo Ziliang succinctly revealed his confusion: for those who have truly experienced poverty, "poverty" itself has the greatest contraceptive effect. This metaphor is not provocative to them, but rather a way to calm their desires.

Prince Xu suddenly realized that the child he and his wife had imagined together had ultimately remained unrealized because of poverty. From then on, he never used such analogies again.

The bookshelves against the wall were filled with books. These were all carefully selected intellectual nourishment by Prince Xu, brought to the base, and had gathered dust over time.

Before Wang Zixu wrote the script for Wen Ai, he had never been to a pirated bookstall; all the books on the shelves were genuine. The "condom" analogy was merely his imagination.

Later, he visited the pirated book stall in person and found that there were no opaque plastic bags, nor was there any sense of humiliation as he had imagined. People just paid and left, just like buying groceries, all in high spirits.

In fact, his financial situation was more than enough to afford pirated books, but the reason he insisted on buying genuine books was because of this consideration: since I have the goal of winning the Nobel Prize in Literature as my lifelong goal, I should take it as my responsibility to support genuine books. Otherwise, if I publish my own books in the future, how will I have the face to persuade people to buy my books?
For the past ten years, he has contributed to the development of the book industry, but his own book has yet to be published, meaning he hasn't seen any return on his investment. Fortunately, he hasn't told anyone about this, or he would surely be ridiculed.

“This place hasn’t been rented out since you left last time,” Ye Lan explained from the side, her tone a little embarrassed. “Your books were too heavy, so you didn’t want them and just left them here without taking care of them.”

Wang Zixu walked to the bookshelf, his fingertips brushing against the spines of a row of books, finally pulling out a copy of "Love in the Time of Cholera." He carefully blew away the dust from the cover and slowly opened it.

The pages made a dry, clicking sound, as if they were about to fall apart at any moment. A unique scent of ink wafted to my nose, and the dry paper slipped from my fingers, instantly calming my anxiety.

Then, a long-lost, thirst-like urge surged up without warning.

He wanted to read.

Since finishing "Fire in the Stone," he felt completely drained, unable to get into the flow of reading each time he tried. But this time, that pure desire to read returned.

He wanted to read purely, intensely, and greedily, as if tearing, sucking, and indulging, immersing himself in the depths of the world constructed by words.

He stroked the book cover, lifted the dust cover on the sofa, plopped down, and officially opened the book.

The salty, damp scent of the sea breeze, carrying the rich fragrance of hibiscus, rises from between the pages. The Caribbean Sea and the Andes Mountains, the scorching sun and the sudden rain, the two poles of yin and yang intertwine and ferment in nonlinear time and space, ultimately steaming out a long, rainy season-like sorrow of love.

He was instantly drawn into the story, drifting with the ocean currents to this sun-bleached Caribbean port. The sweltering air, typical of hot climates, enveloped him, and the intense sunlight made his mouth dry and his lips parched.

"It seems we'll need to hire two hourly cleaners to tidy up before you check in," Ye Lan said.

"Do you remember the cooking skills of that auntie from last time? Should we ask her to cook again? But I don't know if she's available right now," Ye Lan said.

“The lost believers told me they won’t arrive for another two hours. Do you need me to stay here with you and wait?” she asked her third question.

The three sentences were like pebbles thrown into a deep well, leaving no echo. Ye Lan turned her head and found that Wang Zixu was completely absorbed in the world of the book, seemingly oblivious to her words.

She pouted and started to get angry.

She walked to the sofa, sat down close to Wang Zixu, tossed her hair aside, and asked, "Don't you have anything you want to talk to me about?"

Ye Lan was very close, and the breeze from Cartagena harbor carried a hint of perfume. Prince Xu had to barely allocate some RAM to cope.
"What to talk about?"

"Don't you want to talk about our plan?" Ye Lan said. "Aren't you afraid? Aren't you suspicious? Aren't you...excited?"

Perhaps it was because of the long-term cultural influence of Wang Zixu and his group, but the series of parallel sentences she blurted out was quite impressive.

A few days ago, in that KTV private room, the two confronted Zuo Ziliang. Although they had agreed beforehand not to give Zuo Ziliang a chance to seduce them, the negotiation still ended with Zuo Ziliang's complete victory.

Zuo Ziliang's plan is also simple: use "The Little Prince" as the core, and fully empower the three major areas of scriptwriting, marketing strategy and user channels...

In layman's terms, it means having Wang Zixu lead a team to write scripts like crazy, replicating the grand training scene at the Wen'ai Training Base back then.

During the three months that Wang Zixu was engrossed in writing "Fire in the Stone," the company's user base increased tenfold, but profits remained the same as in previous months. To this day, the company's highest monthly profit was still the one Wang Zixu achieved when he was at the Wen'ai Scriptwriter Training Base.

Zuo Ziliang believes that as long as Wang Zixu immerses himself in writing for two months and achieves a double improvement in the quality and efficiency of the script, it is only natural that his income will increase tenfold.

Ye Lan immediately changed her mind, saying the risk was worth taking. Wang Zixu, however, hesitated, feeling that this plan was not fundamentally different from the previous scriptwriter training.

Zuo Ziliang said to Wang Zixu, "I've read your 'Spark in the Stone,' it's really well written. I feel that you weren't as serious when you wrote the script as you were when you wrote 'Spark in the Stone.'"

He added, "Since you can write 'Fire in the Stone' to this level, why can't you write the script to that level as well? Why don't you give it a try?"
Having said all that, Wang Zixu had nothing more to say. He decided to give it a try.

Furthermore, after Ye Lan left, Zuo Ziliang confessed a shocking truth to him. After listening to this, Wang Zixu considered it carefully and decided to help Zuo Ziliang to the end.

Thus, the Wen'ai training base sprang into action once again. At the same moment, the same text message was sent to several scriptwriters carefully selected by the three. The Wen'ai team was reunited.

Today is the day to gather.

Wang Zixu replied to Ye Lan, "Actually, even now, I haven't been completely convinced by Zuo Ziliang. He believes in myself even more than I do. He thinks that as long as I work hard, I can earn the money."

Ye Lan's eyes widened: "When it comes to trusting you, I'm not much worse than him. Don't you trust your own abilities?"

Wang Zixu said, "It's not that I don't believe in my own abilities, it's that I don't believe in my own luck. I always have a feeling that the relevant regulations will be introduced much faster than we imagine."

Ye Lan said, "Don't jinx it! You're making me even more nervous now! Aren't you nervous?"

Wang Zixu said, "I don't have time to be nervous. I have more important things to do now."

"what's up?"

"Let's read a book," said Prince Xu.

Ye Lan completely gave up on continuing her conversation with Wang Zixu and went to contact a cleaning lady to clean the house. Thanks to her thoughtfulness, Wang Zixu was able to immerse himself more deeply in the book, drifting into the depths of the Caribbean Bay.

In the past, his reading was mostly about imitating the style of writers, and he was very proud of this ability, which helped him write books that were praised by others.

But today, he suddenly realized that his previous creative style was less about imitation and more about making the words into similar shapes.

He could memorize the characteristics of these Chinese characters like a blind man touching an elephant, but he never touched the root of them, never delved into that world as deeply as he does today.

He felt so vividly everything about the port of Cartagena: the air there was thick as honey, brewing love and desire, life and death together; the people there had naked and frank desires, baked to an infinite intensity by the scorching sun of the dry season; the rainy season there seemed to last forever, and the lingering sorrow was soaked and expanded infinitely.

He felt his heartbeat throb heavily, rhythmically matching the damp, slow beat of the harbor. His own thoughts quietly merged with the joys and sorrows flowing between the pages of the book, like two lonely rivers finally converging in the vast ocean of words.

……

Cheng Xing, Xin Zhe, and Xiao Ba were among the first to arrive. When they entered the base, the room was quiet.

The afternoon sun slanted through the dusty windowpanes, casting dappled shadows on the empty floor. In this tranquility, they saw the Little Prince sitting alone on the old sofa by the window, a thick book spread out on his lap, his whole being seemingly enveloped in a soft halo of light.

Just as they were about to go forward to greet them, Ye Lan stopped the three of them and put her slender white fingers to her lips.

“Don’t disturb him,” Ye Lan said. “He’s reading.”

Following her gaze, everyone saw that Prince Xu seemed completely isolated from the outside world. His brows furrowed slightly at times and relaxed at others, as if he were immersed in another world. The fingers that occasionally turned the pages of his book were so gentle that it was as if he was afraid of disturbing the spirit within the book, and even his breathing seemed to be in sync with the rhythm of the words.

The three of them quickly fell silent. Cheng Xing asked in a low voice, "Sister Lan, the others haven't arrived yet?"

Ye Lan said, "Sakura said she'll be there soon, Black Dog and Xing Sheng will be there in about half an hour..."

The believer interrupted her, saying, "Wait a minute, who are Black Dog and Star Voice?"

Ye Lan was somewhat surprised: "Didn't I mention that? There were a few people last time who couldn't come this time, so we found some other voice chat operators to fill the gaps."

The believer was somewhat surprised: "Who can't come?"

"poet."

The believer excitedly pulled out his phone: "What's wrong with her? I'll call her and ask."

Ye Lan quickly stopped him: "Hey! It's not that she can't come, we didn't call her in the first place."

"Why?" Even Cheng Xing was somewhat surprised. The poet was their top performer last time, and such a great asset as her didn't come.

“It was arranged by the young prince.” Ye Lan turned to look at Prince Xu. “He said the poet is too young, this matter is too dangerous, and we can’t delay her.”

Upon hearing this, the believer was the first to lose his composure, exclaiming, "Hey! I'm the same age as the poet! I can't hold her back, so why can I be held back? Is it just because I'm not from a 985 university...?"

Cheng Xing interrupted him: "Keep your voice down, don't disturb the little prince's reading."

Ye Lan laughed and said, "You're a man, what are you afraid of delaying? Besides, you're here to make money. Even if there's danger, if anyone's going to be arrested, it'll be the little prince first."

Cheng Xing's expression was serious: "We can't arrest the little prince. The little prince's future contributions to culture will surpass those of all the people at the TV station combined. If we arrest him, it will cause a major loss to the development of our country's culture."

Ye Lan raised her eyebrows: "Are you truly sincere in your high regard for him?"

Cheng Xing said earnestly, "Of course it's true. To be honest, I came here with the mindset of a martyr. If the punishment from above really comes down, I'll help the little prince carry it."

The believer interrupted Cheng Xing's heartfelt statement, saying, "Wait, let's not worry about these unimportant things for now. The important thing is—are all the people coming to the base this time a bunch of grown men? I only came because I thought the poet would come!"

Xiao Ba looked at him with disdain: "Even if the poet came, do you think she would pay any attention to you? Wishful thinking."

The believer's voice weakened slightly: "That's not what I meant... I just think... think about it, we're going to be here for at least a month! If it's all just a bunch of grown men, how boring would that be?"

Ye Lan glared and said, "I'm not a beauty? Am I not a beauty?"

The believer's voice weakened further: "Yes, you are! But... you're not... you know..."

As he spoke, his eyes glanced towards Prince Xu. Ye Lan found his reaction amusing and, emboldened, pressed him for more information:
"What do you mean by 'that'? What happened to me? Tell me!"

Cheng Xing smiled wryly and said, "With you all making such a fuss, it makes it seem a bit ridiculous that I came here with such a heavy heart."

The believer was relentlessly pursued by Ye Lan and dared not speak. Ye Lan decided to let him go and said, "I won't tease you anymore. Actually, there is a beautiful woman here this time. She is a newcomer and her nickname is 'Wearing Lolita and Typing'."

This topic immediately attracted everyone's attention, and everyone gathered around.

The believer asked, "First, have you seen this bride? How do you know she's beautiful? Second, how do you know she's a woman?"

Ye Lan showed him her phone screen: "Look, her nickname is 'Wearing Lolita and Typing,' can't you tell what that means? She's a Lolita girl."

Everyone crowded around the phone to look. The phone screen displayed the beautiful woman's personal page. Her profile picture was of an adorable, rosy-cheeked, and slightly wild anime girl. Her personal introduction was very simple, consisting of only five words: "Sugar and Rivets".

Everyone agreed that she might indeed be a beautiful woman. Only the believers stubbornly insisted: "Does wearing Lolita fashion make someone beautiful? Maybe she's just a sissy who likes to wear Lolita fashion and is actually quite ugly."

Just then, Hachi interrupted him: "Sakura-chan is here!"

The door was flung open with a whoosh, and a man as large as a door panel stood in the doorway. His forearms, with their prominent muscles visible through the sleeves, contrasted sharply with his overly delicate features.

"Sorry I'm late." Sakura gave everyone an apologetic smile.

"It's nothing, it's nothing. Come here quickly, we're just discussing the new male girl... oh no, I mean the loli girl."

The sharp-eyed Hachi immediately spotted the blind spot: "Sakura-chan, why didn't you bring any luggage?"

Sakura-chan did indeed come empty-handed, carrying only a small backpack on her back, while everyone else inside had piled their bags and suitcases at the entrance.

Sakura gave another apologetic smile and said, "Actually, I didn't come here to participate in the event. I just came to meet everyone, say hello, and then leave. I... can't continue doing Wen Ai."

(End of this chapter)