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Chapter 21: The Ye Shengtao Cup Review Process
“I kind of miss the convenience of those parcel lockers—they’re so much closer,” Gu Lu muttered to himself. Going from luxury to simplicity was always hard, especially for someone as lazy as him. Once you got used to convenience, losing it felt like Italy losing pizza—utterly disorienting.
Gu Lu trudged toward a courier shop about a kilometer from home to send off his package. If all went well, he’d pick up the sample issue of the magazine when it arrived at this same location later on. With his father’s ID copy in hand, Gu Lu wasted no time sending over the contract. In another week, he’d have the money. Two more weeks after that, and his work would appear in Story Digest.
Another day passed, and Fan Xiaotian finally got his phone back. All day long, he bombarded Gu Lu with recommendations for a novel he’d stayed up reading the previous night. Yes, the moment Fan got his phone back, he dove headfirst into an all-night binge-read. Given how precious data was these days, he'd downloaded the book as a plain text file using Xunlei via Sogou—a method familiar to anyone who grew up scraping by online.
In some ways, Fan’s dad confiscating the phone wasn’t entirely wrong; it kept him grounded. But now, armed with fresh enthusiasm, Fan wouldn’t let up.
As Gu Lu packed up to leave school that afternoon, his desk-mate Zhou Lin called out to him. “We’re planning to visit Li Li this Saturday. Want to come along?”
Ren Jie shot Zhou Lin a warning glance but didn’t dare contradict her outright. Gu Lu hesitated briefly before declining. From memory, he knew Li Li—or Xu Meili, one of their classmates—had been hospitalized for weeks due to an injury and was finally nearing discharge.
“Why not go? You’ll get to know her better if you visit,” Zhou Lin pressed.
“I think she’d rather see her close friends first,” Gu Lu replied diplomatically. “I don’t want to intrude.”
Zhou Lin paused, considering this. While Gu Lu’s self-deprecating tone might’ve seemed exaggerated, there was truth in what he said. She relented. “Fair enough. Your soul has clearly absorbed my wisdom—you guys have fun then.”
Ren Jie breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Gu Lu hadn’t agreed. Sure, Gu Lu had impressed everyone recently with his cleverness—the infamous "fake push" incident—but Ren Jie still saw him as just another underachiever buried in books. There was no disdain in Ren Jie’s thoughts, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hang out with Gu Lu either. Wherever people gathered, cliques formed—and high school was no exception.
Thanks to Mr. Li cutting them some slack, Gu Lu had the weekend free from homework, giving him ample time to pursue his own interests. Over the course of two days, he spent seven hours using the computer at the fat boss’s place, costing only fifteen yuan for six hours since the owner threw in an extra hour free of charge. Gu Lu appreciated Fat Boss’s generosity. After all, holding firm to profits was fair game, but offering discounts? That was kindness.
Meanwhile, Gu Lu’s father noticed his son constantly sneaking out and scolded him. “You’re always running around outside! Look at all those muddy footprints on the wall! No wonder your grades are so bad!” Finally home for once, Gu Dad decided it was time to play the role of disciplinarian.
If forced to label this parenting style, it would be best described as “sporadic authoritarianism.” Gu Lu tuned out most of it, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other. When pressed too far, he simply shrugged and said, “Don’t I graduate soon to attend that Yu Zhou Vocational School? So why bother trying hard in middle school? I can focus on excelling there instead.”
His father faltered, momentarily speechless. What Gu Lu said made sense, yet he couldn’t let it slide completely. “Even so, don’t spend every waking moment playing outside! Do you know how hard I work? And here you are, not even bothering to cook dinner!”
Sometimes parents criticized not because you were wrong, but because they needed to assert authority. Gu Lu countered smoothly, “Speaking of food, do we even have rice at home?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Last time I checked, we were out, and I didn’t have cash to buy more. But wait—you’ve been cooking meals for days now, so you must’ve bought some. Next time, I’ll remember to handle it.”
That did it. One perfectly timed sentence silenced Gu Dad mid-rant. Without another word, he turned back to the kitchen to prepare supper. As he rinsed the rice, guilt crept over him. His son’s casual mention of having neither rice nor money struck a nerve. Half-heartedly raising a hand to slap himself, he stopped short, reducing the blow by ninety percent.
---
Now, onto writing updates: both the Bingxin Cup and the Ye Shengtao Cup had begun their review processes. Describing both simultaneously would feel cumbersome, so let’s focus on the latter—the prestigious Ye Shengtao Cup.
The Ye Shengtao Cup was organized by the China Contemporary Literature Research Association, a national-level institution overseen by the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. Its reputation alone carried significant weight. Unlike fixed panels, each year’s judges were newly invited. Take 2012, for instance: renowned author Ah Cheng (The Chess King, The Child King, The Tree King), esteemed educator Professor Feng from Beijing Normal University, and Jian, Director of Children’s Publishing House, were among those selected. Joining them were several nationally recognized master teachers and Li Rong, a celebrated literary critic with columns in Green City Literature and China Essays. Each member of the nine-person panel brought impressive credentials.
However, the jury wasn’t responsible for initial screenings. With countless schools and submissions nationwide, relying solely on nine people to sift through everything would take years. Instead, preliminary reviews were conducted by the organizing committee of the China Contemporary Literature Research Association.
Think of it like a film festival. Hundreds of films might enter the main competition, but only twenty or thirty make it past the initial cut. Only then does the jury step in to vote for awards like Best Actor, Best Director, and so forth.
“It’s impossible to say no when you’re soft-hearted,” Jian sighed heavily. As director and editor-in-chief, he juggled numerous responsibilities. Beyond overseeing physical publications, his company managed a wide array of magazines: Story King, Essay World, Young Literature, Cartoon Pioneer, and more.
“This is quite the challenge Lao Li handed me,” he muttered half-heartedly. Truthfully, he hadn’t accepted the invitation purely out of friendship—it stemmed more from respect for Ye Shengtao, a literary giant whose legacy deserved reverence.
The judging process focused on two key tasks: selecting finalists for the live competition and ranking provincial entries that passed the preliminary round. To put it plainly, the Ye Shengtao Cup offered two tiers of awards: provincial and national.
After reviewing over a dozen essays, Jian removed his reading glasses to rest momentarily before turning to the next piece titled The Resounding Shadow. It was a speech filled with stirring passages:
[Read!
Reading is hearing divine prophecy, bridging time and space.
It’s effortless self-transcendence—a chance to see humanity through the eyes of gods, beasts through the eyes of birds.
Start young!
Babbling toddlers. Chanting verses beneath the moonlight. Morning winds brushing against dawn’s glow.
The knowledge, wisdom, reflections, beauty, and soulful whispers of our ancestors echo across millennia—a heartfelt inheritance awaiting discovery…]
“High school level, surely?” Jian scrolled to the end of the document, scanning the author details.
[School: Chongqing No. 37 Middle School
Guidance Teacher: Li Riyao
Author: Gu Lu, Class 5, Grade 9]
“Wait, this is from a middle schooler?” Jian blinked in surprise. He had assumed he’d already reviewed all junior submissions and accidentally skipped ahead to the senior division.
To put it bluntly, even amidst high school entries, this speech stood out as exceptional—borderline unparalleled in quality.
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