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Chapter 18: The Young Genius
“Director, here’s your thermos,” the intern said, placing a freshly filled hot water bottle on Old Li’s desk.
Though Old Li was merely the secondary review editor and head of Section A, ambitious interns often addressed him as “Director” to curry favor. It wasn’t technically incorrect, especially if one aspired to climb the ranks.
“Let me see the schedule,” Old Li said, reaching for the document.
Miscellaneous tasks like this were usually handled by the editorial department’s office assistants, but since the eager intern had volunteered, Old Li saw no harm in delegating.
A single issue of Story Digest wasn’t particularly long, so it was impossible to publish all seven of Gu Lu’s submissions in one go. They’d need to stagger them across multiple issues.
Just as the editorial team was about to wrap up for the day, an unfamiliar number flashed on Old Li’s phone. The caller ID indicated it was from Chongqing.
Ah, Mr. Gu was calling. Old Li had already reviewed the submission metadata and knew the author’s location, so this wasn’t surprising.
Eagerly picking up the call, Old Li was greeted by a voice far too youthful to belong to an established writer.
“Editor Li, hello. This is, uh, Gu Lu.”
Voices could be deceiving—some sounded older than their years, while others betrayed their youth. But this voice, unmistakably that of a teenager, left Old Li momentarily speechless.
“Gu Lu…” Old Li hesitated, struggling to tack on the honorific “Mr.” “…You’re really a middle school student?”
“Ninth grade,” Gu Lu clarified. “I’ll be taking the high school entrance exam soon.”
“And these stories—are they truly your work?” Old Li pressed gently, still grappling with disbelief. “Forgive me, but I’m genuinely shocked. Your writing may not be polished, yet the depth and philosophical undertones are unlike anything I’d expect from someone your age.”
“Editor Li, you’ve probably searched online already. You won’t find anything similar,” Gu Lu replied, carefully choosing his words. “In this world, these pieces are mine, written to earn some living expenses.”
To earn money… Old Li processed the information. “Truly remarkable—a young genius. In that case, we’ll need your guardian’s signature for the contract, given you’re underage.”
“I appreciate it, Editor Li. I’ll figure out how to get the guardian’s consent,” Gu Lu assured him.
“We’ll process the contract once it’s received, and the payment will arrive within three days.”
Old Li didn’t forget to mention the rejected piece, Breaking the Pig, which he’d recommended to a children’s literature journal instead.
Compared to Story Digest, Young Literature sat higher on the literary hierarchy—it was, after all, hailed as China’s premier literary publication. However, its circulation paled in comparison, meaning lower royalties: only 100 yuan per thousand words.
“Thank you for the recommendation, Editor Li,” Gu Lu said sincerely.
Privately, though, he was a bit surprised. Shoes had been accepted, but Breaking the Pig hadn’t? The original version of Shoes had revolved around concentration camps, a topic Gu Lu hadn’t intended to submit. But with half an hour of computer time left at Fat Boss’s internet café—and no refunds available—he’d hastily rewritten the core premise to focus on the Nanjing Massacre instead.
“You’re welcome. Keep in mind, Young Literature has a longer review process, so don’t worry if it takes time,” Old Li added thoughtfully.
They exchanged a few more details—like how Industrial and Commercial Bank transfers were the fastest for royalty payments—before hanging up.
For several seconds, Gu Lu stood frozen, staring into space. Rejection stung more than he’d anticipated. Publishing in magazines wasn’t as straightforward as he’d imagined; even with a cheat-like ability, success wasn’t guaranteed.
“No room for complacency,” Gu Lu reminded himself. “This is reality, and the world doesn’t revolve around me.”
“Where’s he?” Shaking off his thoughts, Gu Lu noticed his father was nowhere to be found.
Had he already slipped back into old habits after just two or three days? Men shouldn’t falter so quickly, Gu Lu mused.
The requirements for a guardian’s signature and ID copy were troubling. He’d barely missed securing them earlier…
If worst came to worst, he’d have to seek out his mother—the one person who despised him most.
“Why does she hate me so much? Probably because I look too much like my father did when he was young. Guilt by association.”
In the Gu household, daughters resembled their mothers, while sons took after their fathers. His mother’s disdain wasn’t due to disobedience or poor grades—it stemmed purely from genetics. Luck of the draw, cruel and unchangeable.
“At least my little sister avoided resembling Dad. That would’ve been tragic,” Gu Lu muttered, organizing his meager belongings. “Right now, I’ve got thirty-three yuan left.”
Including the twenty his father had recently given him as allowance, it was clear his savings had dwindled significantly. The main culprit? His incompetent Literature, Math, and English teachers!
Without challenging assignments, where would his business come from?
Stepping out, Gu Lu headed to Morning Glory Stationery to print his contract. Morning Glory stores seemed ubiquitous—one near every school gate.
Passing by the bank where his predecessor had opened his account, Gu Lu noted that it was still early in the year. By August or September, when Chongqing turned into an inferno, crowds would gather on the steps outside the bank to escape the heat.
His gaze wandered to the snacks lining the streets, rekindling his cravings. Damn it, distractions like these were testing his resolve!
“Soon,” he muttered to himself. “Once the royalty comes through, I’ll indulge!”
Whistling a tune, Gu Lu made his way home, unaware that the Story Digest editorial office was currently abuzz discussing him.
Knock knock.
Old Li entered Deputy Chief Editor Wu’s office without waiting for permission.
In the hierarchical structure of Story Digest, the chain of command went something like this: Junior Editor, Section Heads for Editions A and B, Deputy Chief Editor in charge of the Red Edition, Executive Deputy Editor in charge of the Blue Edition, and finally the Editor-in-chief/Publisher. Old Li was essentially knocking on his direct superior’s door.
“Come in.”
“What is it, Old Li?” Wu asked, glancing up briefly before returning to his work.
“Do you remember the author whose seven manuscripts passed review?” Old Li began.
“Oh, you mean… Mr. Gu, right?” Wu nodded, recalling the impressive submissions that had left a lasting impression during his final reviews.
“Are we planning a long-term collaboration? For talents like this, securing a partnership isn’t out of the question,” Wu remarked.
Although Story Digest didn’t accept novellas or novels, Modu Century Publishing had numerous other outlets—Little Holmes, Young Literature, Books & Art, Literature Studies, etc.—where promising authors could publish longer works.
“Mr. Gu is a ninth-grade student,” Old Li revealed.
“?” Wu looked up sharply, eyes wide with incredulity. “What kind of terrifying statement is that?”
“It’s confirmed. I spoke with Mr. Gu over the phone, discussed the details of his stories, and… he even mentioned having more ideas he hasn’t had time to write yet,” Old Li explained.
Wu’s expression shifted from skepticism to outright astonishment. “You’re sure about this? Stories like The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God, The Flying Santinis, and Good Intentions—fine, kids can have unique perspectives. Even Shoes—sure, middle schoolers visit martyrs’ cemeteries sometimes. But Pipes? You’re telling me a ninth-grader wrote that?”
At the mention of Pipes, Old Li immediately understood Wu’s astonishment. That particular manuscript was exceptionally literary, versatile enough to fit any prestigious publication.
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