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Chapter 5: A Little Cunning
Bassanio and Shylock, both names pulled from the pages of literature textbooks.
Gu Lu was a crafty one. The articles he wrote as a middle schooler were so shockingly profound that he prepared for the inevitable attention they would bring.
The third-year junior high literature textbook, published by People's Education Press, was what Gu Lu was currently studying. One of the selected readings was "The Merchant of Venice," where these two names originated.
The four great miserly figures were important points of interest in exams, emphasized repeatedly by their teacher during class.
Are memories of long-forgotten tests coming back to haunt you?
Shylock is one of the four great misers, but even beyond "The Merchant of Venice," it’s a common enough foreign name, making any alteration seamless.
And perhaps the kindest person in the world could emerge from a miser—consider it an Easter egg.
"You type so fast, what are you doing?" Fat Boss had stepped out for a moment and returned to the bedroom, immediately captivated by the rapid clatter of keys.
"Writing a novel," Gu Lu replied.
Fat Boss was taken aback, sizing up the middle schooler. "You?"
"Where are you publishing it? What's the title?" Fat Boss continued. "I have an account on Qidian."
"This isn't for online publication," Gu Lu responded.
"Oh, so you're submitting to a magazine?" Fat Boss lost interest. "Good luck, kid."
His words were encouraging, as running a business meant not offending anyone, but inwardly, Fat Boss thought the boy's ambitions were wildly impractical. He wandered back outside.
At noon, only three people came to play games, using two machines—one for Devil May Cry and the other for Grand Theft Auto.
Fat Boss provided "cheat codes" for Grand Theft Auto, which allowed players to summon items.
"R2, R2, L1, L2, left, down, right, up, left, down, right, up, bulletproof vest." The short-haired student read from the cheat sheet while pressing buttons on the controller.
The cheat sheet was originally an A4 paper, but after being passed around so much, it began to wear out. Fat Boss, ever resourceful, wrapped it in clear tape several times, giving the cheat sheet epic-level durability.
After stepping outside for a cigarette, Fat Boss returned to his game room, which had once been a mobile phone repair shop. Spanning about twenty square meters, it connected through a corridor to two small bedrooms, each over ten square meters.
A confirmed bachelor, Fat Boss cleared out the second bedroom to set up a PS3, while the room with the computers served as his own bedroom.
Finding nothing better to do outside, Fat Boss slipped back into his bedroom, hovering behind Gu Lu like a ghost.
Hmm… sorry, ghosts aren’t usually this hefty. A more fitting comparison might be Xu Chu, the burly warrior from Rakshasa Street.
If Gu Lu were truly writing something original, having someone standing behind him would’ve been impossible. This was a common affliction among online writers.
But now, Gu Lu wasn’t fazed in the slightest.
Fat Boss leaned forward slightly, reading the text Gu Lu was typing—
[Suppose my compulsive behavior was negative; they might immediately send me to see a psychiatrist or some other kind of doctor. They might try their hardest to stop my harmful actions. But what if your compulsive behavior was positive? In our society, people are always eager to trade cheers and compliments for what they need...]
"Huh?" Fat Boss was surprised. The content didn’t quite sound like something a ninth-grader would write.
"Good Intentions" told the story of Shylock, the kindest man in the world, who actually suffered from a form of obsessive-compulsive kindness. As the book described, every mealtime, he checked if there was anyone hungrier than himself before daring to eat.
Shylock hired an assassin to kill him because he couldn’t bear such a life.
Unfortunately, the protagonist, “I,” owed a debt of gratitude to Shylock from childhood and couldn’t bring himself to go through with it...
"Done!" Gu Lu sent the 3,500-word short story directly to the Story Digest email. Write and send—it was that simple.
As for a pen name... Gu Lu used his real name. Once famous, people would only call him by his pen name, and his real name would fade into obscurity. To avoid that, he kept them consistent.
Stretching lazily after finishing, Gu Lu realized he'd been sitting in the same position for over forty minutes, leaving his neck and body stiff.
"Why doesn’t this Shylock just commit suicide?" Fat Boss, a seasoned novel reader, quickly skimmed through the 3,000 words.
"...Boss, you startled me with that sudden question." Gu Lu said.
"Did you really write this? It feels well-written, almost like something from a textbook," Fat Boss asked. "If living is so exhausting, why doesn’t Shylock just kill himself?"
"He can’t even control his thoughts when eating—he has to check if anyone is worse off than him. With so many people in the world needing help, he simply can’t bring himself to do it," Gu Lu explained. "There are things he can’t accomplish alone and needs others to do for him."
"That makes sense," Fat Boss patted Gu Lu on the shoulder. "Who would’ve guessed you’re a novelist? I believe in you!"
"If you really believe in me, maybe lower the computer fee a bit—I’ve got more stories to write," Gu Lu slithered up the pole like a snake.
"Two-fifty is already cheap; I charge three bucks from others," Fat Boss offered everything but money. "Alright, to show my support for a future novelist, I’ll let you stay ten extra minutes for two-fifty an hour so you can write more."
"Awesome!" Gu Lu gave a thumbs-up, then bent back to his work.
Another twenty minutes later, having written over a thousand more words, Gu Lu realized he had no money to buy an SD card or card reader and couldn’t leave his work on Fat Boss’s computer. So, he uploaded it to the cloud—Kingsoft Cloud, at the time, offered free storage.
Closing the computer, Gu Lu went outside to say goodbye to Fat Boss. "Thanks for the extra ten minutes, Boss."
"Hahaha, come back tomorrow at noon," Fat Boss chuckled. "By the way, which magazine did you submit this novel to?"
"Story Digest," Gu Lu replied.
"I know Story Digest. I often buy Reader’s Digest and Ancient and Modern Legends too," Fat Boss flaunted his wide-ranging knowledge. "Let me know which issue it gets published in—I'll buy a copy to support you."
"It’ll take a while. The review process takes two to three weeks, sometimes over a month," Gu Lu said.
"In that case—" Fat Boss stopped as a customer walked in, quickly turning to greet them.
Gu Lu left the gaming room and slowly headed toward school. The previous owner often skipped lunch, but Gu Lu wasn’t blessed with a "suffering-enduring constitution" and couldn’t stand hunger. So, he bought two steamed buns from the nearby market.
He didn’t eat them right away, instead bringing them to the classroom.
There was a water dispenser in the classroom, paid for by class fees. Eating the buns with water wouldn’t cause him to choke.
Carefully calculating, his expenses and income should balance out. After twenty years without learning to keep accounts in his past life, Gu Lu picked up the skill on his fourth day after being reborn.
How nice!
For the next few days, Gu Lu’s life passed uneventfully. During the day, he copied exam papers at school, and at noon, he went to Fat Boss’s place. It wasn’t until the third day that ripples began to form.
He was summoned to the office by Mr. Li, his literature teacher.
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