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Chapter 10: Busy Is Good
Mr. Li informed Principal Chang about the student’s intention to participate in the Ye Shengtao Cup, as he didn’t know the specific account details and needed to consult the principal.
“The Ye Shengtao Cup National Writing Competition?” Principal Chang took a moment to recall. “Do we have any promising candidates? Is there hope?”
Faced with the principal’s two rapid-fire questions, Mr. Li could only respond, “It’ll give our students a chance to broaden their horizons.”
Hearing this, Principal Chang’s interest plummeted. However, he suddenly seemed to remember something and cracked a faint smile.
“Don’t put too much pressure on the students,” Principal Chang said. “Let’s not forget—neither our No. 37 Middle School nor the entire city has ever won an award in the Ye Shengtao Cup. Letting the students gain some experience is good enough.”
Indeed, Mr. Li had been teaching at No. 37 Middle School for years and had never seen a student earn guaranteed admission through the Ye Shengtao Cup. So when Gu Lu first mentioned it in the office, his immediate reaction was disbelief—“a fairy tale.”
Even so, Mr. Li was willing to help. After all, it was a small favor.
The principal logged into the Ye Shengtao Cup’s official website, bound the school account, and obtained the topics for the preliminary round.
“Oh, right—if the student submits an entry, the teacher’s name must be listed as the mentor. So once the student finishes writing, you should review it and add a sentence or two of recommendation,” Principal Chang reminded him.
“Got it.” Mr. Li nodded in agreement.
“You shouldn’t feel pressured either,” Principal Chang consoled. “Just registering is already a breakthrough for our school.”
There was no culture of participation in the Ye Shengtao Cup across the southwestern provinces. Over the years, the awards had been monopolized by schools in Shandong, Jiangsu, Guangdong, and Anhui.
Take math Olympiads, for example—other provinces’ schools could send dozens of students to compete. If one didn’t even understand the rules, how could they compete?
“If Gu Lu’s parents were more normal, they wouldn’t have pushed the kid this far,” Mr. Li mused. Becoming a guaranteed admission student through this route was incredibly difficult. No wonder Mr. Li couldn’t help but sigh upon seeing the preliminary round topics.
“If only I had the money to buy a computer…” Gu Lu sighed in the classroom, though his thoughts were entirely different.
Both the Bingxin Cup and the Ye Shengtao Cup required typing submissions online. Without a computer, it would be inconvenient. Ideally, a laptop would be best for portability.
But even the cheapest laptops cost three or four thousand yuan…
Thinking about the price immediately discouraged Gu Lu. Even if all eight manuscripts passed, he still couldn’t afford one.
“For now, I’ll stick to using Fat Boss’s computer. First, I need to secure my basic livelihood. But for four thousand yuan, maybe I can set aside half to buy a phone that can type words.”
In the end, Gu Lu abandoned the idea. Typing with a nine-key keypad would be exhausting, and who knew when the next book trigger would occur? If both the Ye Shengtao Cup and the Bingxin Cup finals required offline participation, he’d need to reserve some funds for emergencies.
Gu Lu missed the era of smartphones dearly.
“Hero rescuing a damsel in distress? When did you start having feelings for Zhao Juan?” Zhou Lin’s teasing interrupted Gu Lu’s train of thought.
“What kind of talk is that? Shouldn’t classmates help each other?” Gu Lu responded earnestly, meeting Zhou Lin’s skeptical expression. “I just made a rational decision. If the teacher had found out earlier, they definitely would’ve called her parents.”
“The excuse of pushing is too lame. Also, aren't you afraid the teacher will call your parents over the excuse of pushing someone?” Zhou Lin pressed.
“Haha! I’d be surprised if they managed to find my parents. ” Gu Lu replied firmly. “Since the start of the semester, have you ever seen my parents attend a single parent-teacher meeting?!”
Did she know what a “factual left-behind child” was? Did she understand its significance? A smirk crept onto Gu Lu’s lips.
After three years of schooling, classmates hadn’t paid much attention to the taciturn Gu Lu, but they knew he always sat in during parent-teacher meetings instead of his parents.
“Your parents are so busy,” Zhou Lin muttered.
“Yeah, all busy. Being busy is good,” Gu Lu said.
Unable to contain her giggles, Zhou Lin teased, “isn’t this the slogan from that ad?”
“It’s your illusion,” Gu Lu replied.
As they spoke, a bottle of cola suddenly appeared on Gu Lu’s desk.
Zhao Juan, the math representative, extended the drink. “I bought an extra bottle—here, it’s for you.”
Before she finished speaking, the surrounding students erupted in cheers: “Ohhh!”
The classroom buzzed like gibbons on both banks of a river. Some pranksters even mimicked Zhao Juan’s words: “Bought an extra bottle.”
This was the atmosphere of school!
“Thank you,” Zhao Juan said sincerely, though the playful teasing made her nervous. She quickly returned to her seat.
Perhaps the earlier crying had released her emotions, or maybe the teacher’s scolding startled her—but Zhao Juan’s sadness now seemed wrapped in a sugary coating.
“Hehe.” Zhou Lin nudged Gu Lu with her shoulder, winking mischievously.
Gratitude was a good habit.
No struggling writer could resist the allure of a cold soda. Gu Lu paused, realizing it had been nearly two weeks since he last tasted this familiar flavor.
“Wait—does this mean I’m witnessing history again?” Gu Lu examined the label on the cola bottle, which clearly stated 600 milliliters.
Though he couldn’t recall the exact month, it was 2012. This was the year colas and other sodas underwent packaging slimming, reducing their net content by one-sixth—an event later dubbed the “First Shock”!
Then, eleven years later, Kang Shifu’s announcement of a price hike for iced tea would deliver the “Second Shock” to otakus everywhere.
It was hard to stop the tide of history. With that, Gu Lu began brainstorming ideas for the Bingxin Cup’s preliminary round.
The junior high group had three topics: the Spirit of Lei Feng, environmental protection, and reflections on reading classical novels.
“Classical literature?” The first thing Gu Lu thought of was The Moon Over the Mountain, a collection of stories including references to Zuo Zhuan, Journey to the West, The Tiger-Man Legend, and the idiom “hitting a target from a hundred paces.”
The Moon Over the Mountain contained many philosophical debates, such as the adaptation of Wujing’s story from Journey to the West. It was essentially a profound exploration of life. Even if Gu Lu remembered it perfectly, writing such a piece as a middle schooler would be too exaggerated.
“Lei Feng… let me think. Wait, I have an idea,” Gu Lu wondered if this world had the movie The Days Without Lei Feng.
While My Own Swordsman existed, Editorial Department Stories did not. The butterfly effect was unpredictable. Gu Lu would need to check tomorrow at Fat Boss’s place.
The Days Without Lei Feng told the story of Qiao Anshan—
Qiao Anshan accidentally caused a car accident that led to the death of his squad leader, Lei Feng…
The scene where Qiao was extorted for medical fees after helping an elderly person left a deep impression on Gu Lu. He initially thought it was fiction, only to realize it was prophetic.
“Have you considered that by hounding Old Qiao over these medical fees, you’re driving him to despair? Yesterday, he visited Lei Feng’s grave—he was contemplating suicide. We’ve all grown up singing Learn from Lei Feng, Be a Good Example. Without Lei Feng’s spirit, would this elderly person you saved even exist today? I’m not defending my husband—I’m seeking justice for society and proving the value of Lei Feng’s spirit…”
The submission required at least 800 words. Gu Lu edited and condensed, describing how Qiao Anshan lived in guilt after the respected squad leader’s passing and eventually spent decades spreading Lei Feng’s spirit.
The essay format was unrestricted—poetry, drama, prose, or fiction were all acceptable. Several classical Chinese compositions from college entrance exams had gained popularity.
Without a doubt, the person who understood Lei Feng’s spirit most deeply was Qiao Anshan. Using this angle, Gu Lu felt confident in crafting a solid draft.
“Two options—if the movie exists, then I’ll choose environmental protection. I remember the textbooks from my previous world had an article called “He-y, Come on Ou-t!”
In reality, Gu Lu prepared three contingencies. If both Shinichi Hoshi’s work and the movie existed, the safest fallback would be “reflections on classical novels.”
If all else failed, he could resort to The Death of Red Hare, a famous full-score essay from the previous world that Gu Lu knew inside and out.
As a tailor, restoring seventy to eighty percent of it wouldn’t be a problem.
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