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Chapter 13: Go and Save Your Friend
“Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone—I promised Zhao Juan I wouldn’t say anything to you,” Fan Xiaotian emphasized.
“Alright, got it. Maybe she just wanted to thank me for helping her out,” Gu Lu replied casually.
“Forget about thanks—she obviously has feelings for you!” Fan Xiaotian gossiped excitedly. “Zhao Juan is one of the most well-behaved girls in our class. You’ve got potential, buddy!”
“Women only slow down my sword-drawing speed,” Gu Lu quipped dryly.
It was common among boys to debate who the most "well-behaved" girls in class were. Names like Wang Meiqi, Zhou Lin, and Zhao Juan often came up. As for the so-called class beauties or school idols? No one seemed to agree on any definitive picks.
“Wait a second—what’s this on your back?” Fan Xiaotian reached over and peeled off a sticky note stuck to Gu Lu’s shirt.
The note read: [Bad Luck Charm, Bad Luck Everywhere].
“This handwriting… shinjitsu wa itsumo hitotsu!” Gu Lu muttered, recognizing Zhou Lin’s mischief from earlier.
“What shinjitsu? What hitotsu?” Fan Xiaotian asked curiously.
Ah, right. In a world without Edogawa Ranpo, there certainly wouldn’t be Conan Edogawa either. Gu Lu explained, “It’s Japanese. Roughly translates to ‘There is always only one truth!’”
Fan Xiaotian perked up instantly. “Impressive! So you’re learning Japanese now? From what kind of shows? Why did I only ever pick up phrases like 'yamete' and 'dame'?”
---
At Fat Boss’s arcade, Gu Lu let Fan Xiaotian play games for half an hour while he used the computer to type out his entry for the Bingxin Cup. He didn’t forget to log into his QQ email account afterward.
He couldn’t check Story Digest every day—it wasn’t practical, especially since he hadn’t written anything new lately. Once every three days would suffice.
What Gu Lu didn’t know was that Old Li had already passed along Breaking the Pig to another department for review. While Old Li handled secondary review, the final decision rested with others. Thus, when he tried to reply to the author, he hesitated—he didn’t have the authority to send such a message.
“Funny stuff. A short story submitted to Story Digest, but they recommended it to us at Young Literature. Let’s take a look.”
Xiao Chong, the editor of Young Literature, chuckled softly. His nickname “Little” Chong wasn’t because he was young; rather, his head was disproportionately small compared to his burly frame. Picture a teddy bear’s head attached to an Alaskan malamute’s body—it was hard not to stare.
Xiao Chong had every right to be confident. Young Literature was the premier journal for original children’s literature in China of this world and a mandatory fixture in national reading rooms.
“Alright, I’m tired of reviewing manuscripts anyway. Let’s give my eyes a break,” Xiao Chong said. Still, he owed Old Li some respect—they worked under the same publishing house, Modu Century Publishing, and Old Li was a veteran in the industry.
“Breaking the Pig… The title feels a bit too blunt.”
It wasn’t that Xiao Chong was nitpicking. Just look at other submission titles: Standing on the Tail End of Fifteen, Monster Customizer, Legends of Clouds and Birds.
[My dad refused to buy me the Orange Fragrance Transformer toy from Fruit Ninja Attack. Actually, Mom was fine with buying it, but Dad said I was spoiled. “Why should we buy him this? Huh?” he told Mom. “Why does he need a Fruit Ninja Attack toy?…”]
A child being denied a toy because their father believed giving in too easily would make them ungrateful or entitled—a fairly ordinary opening. But Xiao Chong could already sense something unusual brewing beneath the surface.
[So, instead of getting the Orange Fragrance toy, my dad gave me an ugly little porcelain piggy bank—with a flat slot on its back. This way, I’d grow up healthy and understand the hardships of life.]
“Can a piggy bank really make someone grow healthier? Is it just me, or does this feel vaguely satirical?” Xiao Chong muttered. Within the first few hundred words, he abandoned his relaxed mindset entirely.
Xiao Chong’s editorial instincts were sharp—as the chief editor of Young Literature, his judgment was impeccable.
Next, the father explained to the kid that as long as he ate vegetables without complaining and helped with chores daily, he’d earn a one-yuan coin. When the piggy bank was full and no longer rattled, he could finally buy the Orange Fragrance Transformer.
“Even a small piggy bank would take around a hundred coins to fill,” Xiao Chong estimated mentally. “And unless it’s a birthday, asking for a toy worth over a hundred yuan does seem excessive.”
Putting himself in the parents’ shoes, Xiao Chong imagined if his own five-year-old son made the same request—he’d probably refuse.
But the crux of Breaking the Pig wasn’t whether or not to buy the toy.
Over time, the significance of the piggy bank shifted in the protagonist’s mind. “Actually, this little porcelain pig is kind of cute, and its nose feels cool to the touch. When you slip a one-yuan coin into its back, it smiles. Even a fifty-cent coin makes it smile. But the best part is, even if you don’t put anything in, it still smiles. I named it Gulu…”
Saving one yuan per day meant it would take nearly half a year to fill the piggy bank. During this period, the protagonist grew attached to Gulu, treating it like a friend and worrying constantly about breaking it.
Could someone genuinely form a bond with a toy? Xiao Chong wondered.
One day, the father picked up the piggy bank, shook it, and declared it full—time to smash it open as promised. Xiao Chong paused. Some piggy banks indeed lacked openings for retrieving coins.
[Let the Fruit Ninja Attack toy rot somewhere cold! Am I really going to smash my friend’s head with a hammer? “I don’t want the Orange Fragrance Transformer anymore,” I handed the hammer back to Dad. “Having Gulu is enough for me.” “You don’t understand,” Dad said. “It’s fine—it’s part of your education. Hurry up, let me do it for you…”]
“Whoa…” By this point, Xiao Chong realized this story was extraordinary.
No matter how much the protagonist pleaded, the father remained resolute, even smiling satisfactorily, believing his child had learned to value possessions.
After begging, the father agreed to delay smashing the pig until the next day.
“??”
The ending left Xiao Chong’s head spinning with questions.
His confusion lasted only seconds before he slapped his forehead. “So this is why there’s such a generational gap between kids and adults!”
[“Pigs love the wild.” As I placed Gulu on the ground, I whispered to it, “Especially forests. You’ll like it here.” I waited for Gulu to respond, but it stayed silent. When I touched its nose goodbye, it gave me a sorrowful look—it knew it would never see me again.]
Yes, that’s right—the protagonist set the piggy bank free in a nearby grove. He was saving Gulu!
Throwing away over a hundred yuan—for Xiao Chong, this reaction was baffling. For children, it felt like rescuing a friend, but for adults, including himself, the immediate thought was: “What a waste of money! The piggy bank isn’t alive.”
Even though Xiao Chong had once been a child himself, he’d forgotten what it was like to think that way.
“Young Literature needs stories like this. Though simple, it subtly highlights issues in family education.”
“It’s like forcing a child to destroy their piggy bank, ignoring their feelings, all to teach them something the parent deems valuable. This happens in many households. As someone with a kid, reading this makes me reflect on my own parenting.”
Xiao Chong glanced at the author’s name: Gu Lu.
“Gu Lu and Gulu—what a clever Easter egg. This must be a professional children’s writer. Submitting this to Story Digest was a waste.”
Renowned children’s authors write stories not just for kids but also for parents.
Before reading: Story Digest recommending a piece to Young Literature? Too lofty.
After reading: Young Literature absolutely needs this story.
Xiao Chong set aside his current work and called Old Li.
“Hey, Li, about that manuscript you sent…”
Initial reviews were exhausting, especially for children’s literature. The task wasn’t just filtering out harmful content—it was also about discovering gems.
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