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Chapter 2: Fully Triggered
"I understand now. The Brownfman Award, the Sapir Prize, and the Prime Minister’s Literary Award—these are the accolades this book has garnered. I may not know how prestigious these awards are, but clearly, they’re leagues above anything I could write."
Amidst his excitement, Gu Lu didn’t forget to ponder. "But how did I trigger it again?"
He retraced his steps: picking up the piggy bank, then putting it down. There was no apparent connection—it all seemed so random.
Frustrated by his lack of clarity, Gu Lu opened the book. It contained a myriad of stories: The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God, Hole in the Wall, A Souvenir of Hell, Uterus, and Breaking the Pig...
"Wait," he thought, "Breaking the Pig—could it be what I think it is?" Gu Lu found the most comfortable spot in the house and sprawled out.
It was the black leather couch in his bedroom, surprisingly plush. Gu Lu lounged there like a carefree teenager, delving into the tales within his mind.
Minutes later, the confusion etched on his face dissipated. He wore an expression akin to Conan Edogawa's moment of enlightenment, as if he had unraveled the universe's secrets.
"Breaking the Pig" narrated the story of a child and their pig-shaped coin bank—a perfect match for his earlier actions.
Gu Lu skimmed through all 22 stories, identifying why certain moments in school triggered the phenomenon.
Remember when the math teacher scolded Fan Xiaotian?
"There are forty students in this class. If we all waited one minute for you, that would add up to over half an hour! Get back to your seat immediately!"
One story titled "The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God" read: "if, say, the delay that was caused by opening the door for someone who came late was just under thirty seconds, and if not opening the door meant that this person would wind up losing fifteen minutes of his life, it would still be more fair to society, because the thirty seconds would be lost by every single passenger on the bus. And if there were, say, sixty people on the bus who hadn’t done anything wrong, and had all arrived at the bus stop on time, then together they’d be losing half an hour, which is double fifteen minutes…."
"If my dad told me to stay put while he went to buy some oranges, maybe that’d trigger 'Retreating Figure' too," Gu Lu mused.
Of course, his original father wasn't quite as considerate.
Gu Lu summarized, "If I possess items similar to those in the stories or witness acts mirroring the plot, it triggers something."
"After two accumulations, I receive a book from Earth."
"Something feels off..."
He furrowed his brows. There's nothing new under the sun; Earth's literature spans countless genres. Every aspect of life—food, shelter, clothing, travel—should trigger something frequently.
Yet, today marked his first trigger three days after his transmigration—an anomaly.
Gu Lu muttered several novel openings he recalled: "Grave robbing isn’t about hosting banquets, writing essays, or painting..." "Lu Feiming typed GG and exited the game." "Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I don't know." And so forth.
"I am a sick man... I am a spiteful man. I am an unpleasant man.—reciting lines similar to those in the novels doesn’t work either."
After waiting in vain for any response, Gu Lu understood. "There are other constraints. With limited clues, I can only deduce two rules."
[1. The books that can appear in my mind aren’t restricted to what I’ve read in my past life.
2. Similar passages must be spoken by others and witnessed by me. (Unclear if ‘witnessing’ requires multiple people.)]
These thoughts swirled in Gu Lu’s mind, leaving no trace on paper.
"I need to master this skill quickly. Otherwise, the randomness is overwhelming. Take 'The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God,' for instance—I’ve never heard of it."
Its excellence was undeniable. Gu Lu had skimmed through it earlier, understanding why it earned columns in publications like The New York Times and The Paris Review.
"But how will this improve my life?" Gu Lu wondered.
Next, he contemplated monetizing these works—a natural progression, given his shameless disposition devoid of guilt.
Back on Earth, Gu Lu often fantasized: "Google docs should be mature enough to write stories itself. Why can’t I get divine intervention—a USB drive filled with masterpieces from another world?"
Short story collections couldn’t be uploaded to online platforms. In 2013, online short stories publication sites hadn’t gained traction yet—no revenue streams!
Moreover, even if there were profits, he lacked a computer at home. While finding an internet café was easy, sustaining frequent visits without funds was impossible.
Lost in thought, Gu Lu pulled out his homework. Copying classroom tests was effortless, requiring little mental effort, allowing him to multitask.
His schoolbag was a simple tote bag, common among classmates who stashed books in desk drawers. Struggling students often piled books mountain-high on desks, creating "trenches" to evade teachers' prying eyes.
Thus, bringing only homework home sufficed, abandoning the cumbersome backpack for a convenient tote bag.
Gu Lu used a strong liquor bag—his family had plenty, far more than needed.
Rummaging through his belongings, he unearthed textbooks, test papers, and assignments—and something else.
Upon closer inspection, it was an extracurricular book: Story Digest.
November 2010 issue, priced at four yuan.
A memory linked to Gu Lu’s musings—underachievers came in three types: love-struck, gamers, and novel enthusiasts. The first category wasn’t absolute since some managed to maintain grades despite relationships.
Gu Lu and Fan Xiaotian fell into the third category—novel-loving underachievers. Occasionally, Gu Lu rented books from stores, paying a ten-yuan deposit and half yuan to one yuan per day.
Fan Xiaotian's family was slightly better off but still tight on cash, fostering frugal habits.
Current issues of Story Digest cost four yuan, but buying outdated stock from second-hand stalls slashed prices to one yuan.
They exchanged finished reads—a practice embodying efficiency amidst constraints, maximizing knowledge dissemination.
Flipping through Story Digest, Gu Lu’s face lit up with joy.
"Right! Submitting short, amusing stories to Story Digest. They’ll surely appreciate them. Wonder how much the royalties are?"
He found the submission email: otakutl.blogspot.com, but scouring the publication revealed no payment details.
Soon, Gu Lu noticed Story Digest had red and blue editions.
The red edition catered to digital content, published mid-month. The blue, a digest version, leaned towards literary pieces, released at month’s end.
"So, it’s bi-monthly, not weekly as I assumed."
Gu Lu opted for the blue edition—the digest version in hand featured diverse sections: thirteen jokes, new legends, anecdotes, international tales, and humorous stories featuring character A.P.
"This needs careful planning..."
The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God contained twenty-two stories—not all suitable for submission. Though Gu Lu saw a lucrative path, he remained rational.
Some narratives didn’t fit his current identity or nationality. For instance, "Shoes," written from a Jewish perspective about Nazis and Jews, required sensitivity.
Even geniuses must consider repercussions.
Others, however, were viable—
Gu Lu particularly enjoyed "Good Intentions"—a hitman tasked with assassinating the kindest person alive, unraveling the mystery behind the mastermind...
In "Hole in the Wall," the protagonist encounters a winged angel, leading to an unexpected conclusion...
"A Souvenir of Hell" tells of a woman dating a demon...
Sounds like clickbait, right?
Etgar Keret’s stories brimmed with imaginative absurdity laced with subtle philosophy. Their unique perspectives made them intriguing.
Compared to Story Digest, they weren’t worlds apart but certainly a notch above.
To say those peculiar tales stemmed from a creatively inclined ninth-grader wouldn’t be far-fetched.
After all, humanity peaks intellectually and physically during junior high and senior high.
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