I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 261 Lover’s Whispers
"Sakura-chan." Prince Xu greeted the figure as thin as a door at the kitchen doorway, "Eat before you go?"

Sakura turned around, a shy smile appearing on her sharply defined face.

"No, I'm really going to miss it. I just checked, and the next bus is at six o'clock. If I change my ticket to go back then, my supervisor will tear me apart."

He paused, then smiled and said, "But during your lecture just now, I really couldn't resist sitting down and listening to the whole thing. It was so wonderful that I almost impulsively canceled my train ticket... Doesn't it seem hypocritical to say this now?"

Wang Zixu patted his strong shoulder: "I understand. It's all for the sake of making a living."

Sakura looked around and lowered her voice, "How about we go outside and talk?"

"Ah."

The two pushed open the iron gate, and the suburban wind, carrying dust, immediately rushed into their faces.

The small building at the base stood alone in the fields, surrounded by rows of vegetable greenhouses, their plastic sheets rustling in the wind. Further away, the shadow of a tower crane swayed slowly against the gray-yellow sky.

They walked into the fields, their path a rutted mess, worn down by pickup trucks and tractors. Sakura, gazing at the desolate landscape, spoke:

"To be honest, that month at the Wen'ai base was the most fulfilling month of my life. Although my job was glamorous... I didn't really feel any sense of accomplishment."

Prince Xu listened quietly without commenting.

“My imagination, my talent, all the things that prove I am an outstanding human being, have all been turned into rigid and formalized reports. I feel like I’ve become a tool. It’s only with you that I’ve experienced the feeling of my creativity being unleashed.”

"Do you understand this feeling?" Sakura spread her hands and said, "I confided these things to my wife, but she just thought I was whining and wanted the boss to give me more responsibilities so that I wouldn't overthink things."

"I understand." Prince Xu couldn't help but take out a cigarette from his pocket and hand it to Ying Jiang. Ying Jiang waved her hand, so he lit it for himself, took a deep drag, and the smoke was quickly blown away by the wind.

"I had this feeling before I resigned. Even now... my family doesn't understand."

Sakura nodded with a wry smile, her gaze returning to the rolling yellow earth: "So seeing you now able to do what you want to do, I feel both envious and a little worried."

"worry about what?"

"Teacher Little Prince, you must be very careful, this commotion is too big."

Prince Xu nodded: "I know."

"The Little Prince is no longer just a nickname; you've become a phenomenon. The taller the tree, the more the wind will blow... I have a bad feeling that you're dancing on a knife's edge, and the music may have to stop."

The prince grasped his hand lightly and said, "Thank you for reminding me, I know what I'm doing."

“Teacher, here you go,” he said, turning his bag around and taking out a notebook. “These are the notes I took after each of your classes last time. I think they might be useful for new students.”

Wang Zixu opened the notebook and found the record to be very detailed; the delicate handwriting was a striking contrast to his own physique. After closing the notebook, he looked up and sincerely said, "Thank you!"

"Goodbye, Teacher Little Prince. May you have great success in your military endeavors."

With that, he waved and turned to disappear into the dusty suburbs without looking back.

……

When Wang Zixu returned to the base, lunch preparations were nearing completion. The large round tables, which had been out of use for a long time, were now in use in the dining hall, and the trainees were scattered around.

Ye Lan stood in the restaurant, her skirt swirling, as if conducting a performance.

In fact, for the sake of efficiency, most of the previous team's lunches and dinners were served as boxed meals. However, as the new team's first meal, Ye Lan insisted that they eat together no matter what. This is a unique sense of ritual among the older generation of Chinese.

At times like this, Wang Zixu would fall into the seating anxiety typical of low-ranking civil servants, wondering where he should sit. Before he knew it, Xiao Mengyin had moved next to him and gently nudged him with her elbow.

"Hey, the creative method you just mentioned, did you come up with it yourself, or did you read it in a book?" she asked in a low voice.

"I came up with it myself." Prince Xu blinked, wondering whether she was looking down on him or praising him.

"Wow, that's impressive—" Xiao Mengyin drawled, glancing at him sideways, "What did you major in at university?"

"Precision Instruments and Mechanical Automation"

Xiao Mengyin looked at him and said, "It sounds like it has nothing to do with literature."

Wang Zixu said, "It has nothing to do with literature."

Xiao Mengyin said, "It's like a hardcore science and engineering department."

Wang Zixu said, "It's a science and engineering major."

Wang Zixu was like a broken record, extremely obedient, completely lacking the spiritedness he had shown in class just now.

Xiao Mengyin stared blankly at his face, and suddenly realized that the Wang Zixu in front of her was the Wang Zixu she used to know, that honest and simple middle-aged man.

The images of Prince Xu and Little Prince overlapped before her eyes, and Xiao Mengyin gradually lost the ability to distinguish who was wearing the mask and who was playing whom.

Thinking of this, she felt a strong sense of being deceived again, clenched her fist, and forcefully shoved it into his ribs.

"What are you doing?" Prince Xu exclaimed in surprise.

"It's precisely because you're always like this that I'm even more surprised that you really are the Little Prince."

"What do you mean?"

Xiao Mengyin didn't answer him, as if talking to herself: "I thought that someone who could write that kind of words would be... a more unrestrained or neurotic guy."

Prince Xu said quietly, "At least the part about being neurotic is correct."

"The good news is, at least your image has become a bit more complete in my eyes," Xiao Mengyin said, patting her chest.

"Has he become more freakish or more vulgar?"

"It has become more perfect."

"?"

As Prince Xu was still wondering, a fragrant breeze wafted over. Ye Lan suddenly turned around and smiled as she stepped between the two, naturally using her body to block Xiao Mengyin's gaze from looking at Prince Xu.

"Hello, hello!" Her voice was sweet, a tone that Wang Zixu had never heard before. "I didn't expect that the beautiful Xiao would be so familiar with Old Wang?"

“Yes,” Xiao Mengyin replied, her tone returning to its usual indifference, “We’re very familiar with each other.”

Ye Lan's dark eyes swept lightly over her face and body, her smile becoming even more alluring:

"I have no idea how he got to know such a beautiful woman like you. If I had known you two knew each other, I should have arranged to meet you privately first, otherwise that awkward little incident wouldn't have happened."

"Awkward? It's alright..." Xiao Mengyin cleared her throat awkwardly.

Ye Lan added, "Come on, let's go eat first. After we eat, I'll take you to see the dorm room and see if it's the kind of big wardrobe you need..."

As she spoke, she affectionately linked her arm with Xiao Mengyin's, subtly leading her away from Wang Zixu.

Xiao Mengyin, who was being restrained, looked slightly embarrassed. She quickly glanced back at Wang Zixu, her eyes seemingly a mixture of "What's going on?" and "Why don't you hurry up and say something?"

However, Wang Zixu simply stood still, choosing to do nothing. As a middle-aged man who was essentially a hardcore science and engineering type, he had only sensed that Ye Lan's condition was a bit off; her swaying figure seemed more feminine than usual. At the same time, a flurry of swordplay had just occurred in front of his nose, and although not a single hair on his head had been severed, he instinctively realized that it had been very dangerous.

So he chose to do nothing and watch Xiao Mengyin be taken away by Ye Lan.

At the dinner table, Xin and Xiao Ba looked at each other in bewilderment.

"I just realized that I'm from the Dionysus group, and you're from the Apollo group."

“From now on, we’ll be enemies,” Xiao Ba replied naturally.

“That’s not what I meant,” the believer slapped him, “I want to switch with you.”

"Why? Do you like the tough, masculine vibe here?" Xiao Ba said. "Be content. Isn't being with beautiful women your dream?"

As he spoke, he glanced up at Xiao Mengyin, who was being held by Ye Lan. Despite being mentally prepared, he couldn't help but hold his breath for a second.

The little girl is so cute.

“I don’t deny that Luo Niang is good,” the believer said, “but on my side… well, it’s a tale of two extremes…”

The term "fire" naturally refers to the fiery Luo Niang, while "ice," needless to say, refers to the black dog.

At this moment, the black dog was sitting at the round table directly opposite the door. Traditionally, this was the seat of honor, and everyone tacitly left it for the little prince. He obviously didn't know the rules and plopped down in the seat, but no one reminded him.

Both sides were chatting enthusiastically, but he couldn't join in the conversation and sat there all alone, like a potato that had been misplaced on the shelf.

The believer said, "...I have a feeling that the coming period will not be easy."

Xiao Ba patted him on the shoulder: "Think of it on the bright side, at least you both write online novels, so you should have a lot in common."

After lunch, the Apollo and Dionysus groups went their separate ways, and the scriptwriting officially began.

The Dionysus group occupied the only apartment-style room in the base. Beige curtains filtered out the harsh afternoon sunlight, casting soft dappled light on the carpet.

Cheng Xing sat upright in the soft single sofa. On the coffee table were books such as Steven Pinker's "The Sense of Style", Stephen King's "On Writing" and George Lakoff's "Metaphors We Live By". Xing Sheng and Xiao Ba sat on either side of the coffee table.

Cheng Xing said, "Teacher Little Prince instructed me to be the leader of the Dionysus group. I have never held any leadership position before, so I am really not good at management. Everyone should do more self-management."

After saying that, Xiao Ba and Xing Sheng exchanged a glance, and then Cheng Xing immediately said:

"But I can offer some pointers on scriptwriting. These books on the table are ones I've compiled that I think will be helpful to everyone; you can read them in your spare time."

He held up "Style Sense" and said, "This book, for example, can teach you how to write classical, clear, and powerful modern prose. We should pursue intelligent elegance, so that readers feel we are smart without being pretentious. This book can provide a lot of help."

Xing Sheng raised her hand and said, "Teacher Cheng, are there any books that can help us capture the feeling of being moved more deeply? I've never been in a relationship, so I don't really know much about flirting."

“Yes.” Cheng Xing picked up Roland Barthes’s “A Lover’s Discourse” from the table. “This book can be called the bible of love. It dissects the symbols of infatuation, waiting, and pain in love. If you understand it, you can understand love from a higher dimension.”

Xiao Ba and Xing Sheng each picked up one of the books, as if they were priceless treasures.

"However, even if you understand these books, you're only at the theoretical level. To write a good script, you still need to start with the conversation itself and learn how to create excitement..."

Xiao Ba immediately raised her hand: "Teacher Cheng Xing, how do we create a sense of attraction during a conversation?"

Cheng Xing said, "Learn some chat tools, the simplest ones are creating 'empathy anchors' and 'emotional push-pull'."

Xiao Ba got even more excited, her eyes sparkling as she asked, "What are 'empathy anchors' and 'emotional push-pull'?"

“The anchor of empathy is not about starting with solving the problem, but about expressing ‘I feel the same way as you’ through clever means,” Cheng Xing said. “For example, if someone says, ‘I’m working overtime today, I’m so tired,’ how should you respond?”

Xiao Ba opened his mouth, then said, "Get some rest early?"

“You see, this is the mindset for ‘solving problems’. Because you’re ‘tired,’ you need to ‘rest,’” Cheng Xing said with a smile. “We don’t solve any practical problems with our emotional content; we only provide emotions.”

Xiao Ba humbly asked, "Then how should I answer?"

When someone says, "I'm working overtime and I'm so tired," what are their core emotions? Fatigue, a desire for rest, and some hidden complaints.

"When people are tired, they don't want to think. At this time, any suggestions we make are just draining their energy."

"What we need to do is to capture her emotions, accept her emotions, identify with her emotions, and resonate with her. Become one of her 'ones'."

Xiao Ba and Xing Sheng listened intently, taking notes. Xiao Ba asked, "So, how exactly should we answer?"

Cheng Xing continued, "The first step is to accept your emotions. A simple 'You've worked hard' or 'It wasn't easy' is enough."

"The second step is to express the feelings she wants to say but hasn't, such as 'Feeling completely drained?' 'Being tormented by your boss?' 'Having troubled work?' As long as you hit the nail on the head, she will naturally start talking about her experiences."

"The third step is to create a sense of alliance or provide a sense of shelter. You can say, 'I'm applying to be your charging station, do you agree?' or 'Let's find a place to cosplay as a salted fish, I'll cosplay as a fisherman to cover for you.'"

"To convey humor in a conversation, you must always maintain 'elegant aggression' and pay attention to the push-pull of emotions..."

"When chatting, confidently let the other person take the lead in the conversation. Top hunters often appear as prey, making the other person feel like they are the ones 'capturing' you..."

Cheng Xing spoke at length for an hour, and the two people opposite him listened with great interest, not losing focus for even a minute.

At the end of the lesson, Xiao Ba raised his hands high, clasped them together in the air, and said in an exaggerated tone:
"Teacher Cheng Xing, I am truly impressed. You are my mentor! If I had met you earlier, I would have a whole bunch of girlfriends by now."

Xing Sheng also sincerely said, "I also feel that I have benefited a lot. I thought I had a high EQ, but I didn't expect that I was still not as good as those who have formal training."

Cheng Xing took a sip of water to moisten his throat: "These are just some minor tricks, all of which I learned and summarized from The Little Prince's script. Only those who can learn his inner workings can be considered masters."

Xing Sheng said, "I feel that you and Little Prince are both big names in the literary world, and it's like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut for this profession. However, thanks to you both, I feel that my perspective on this profession has changed completely."

After he finished speaking, he keenly noticed that Cheng Xing's expression was strange for a moment, as if he had been lost in thought for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Okay, you guys start writing the script. Theory needs to be combined with practice to learn thoroughly. I'll read for a while."

The two said their goodbyes and returned to their seats to write their scripts. Cheng Xing walked to the window, looking at the desolate outskirts, his thoughts already wandering elsewhere.

"The new book is about the Little Prince... What? It's your own? An original work?"

"Let's write another Little Prince, anything goes, a memoir, a success code, anything. With this kind of popularity, we can make a fortune writing anything..."

Cheng Xing held a teacup in his arms, looked out the window, and thought of Xing Sheng's words earlier—"You and the Little Prince are both literary giants..."

He couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Upon hearing that his new book was pure literature, the publishing editor's disappointment was written all over his face.

Yes, if it weren't for The Little Prince, who would have heard of Cheng Xing? Without writing The Little Prince, what value would Cheng Xing have?
“There are two stacks of banknotes here. Which one do you think is noble and which one is filthy?” the editor advised him. “They’re both for making money, there’s nothing shameful about it.”

Cheng Xing's fist slowly clenched and then relaxed.

If writing motivational self-help books isn't shameful, then what's shameful about writing motivational scripts in Wen Ai? Why should he be singled out and directly accused of being immoral?
"The biggest problem in the world is that it is too harsh on the poor and too lenient on the successful."

(End of this chapter)