Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C55

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Chapter 55: Keep Pushing, Readers

“I remember reading a news story once,” Dagger Zhang mused to himself, “where someone saw another person swallow a light bulb and couldn’t get it out—then went ahead and tried it themselves. People really do have this weird urge to imitate things… or maybe it’s just stupidity?”

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. If you randomly saw someone try to hang themselves and fail, would you give it a go too?

But hanging yourself was nothing like swallowing a light bulb! In his mind, two tiny voices began to argue—one high-pitched, one low—like two cartoonish little men duking it out.

“I get it now,” Dagger Zhang finally said aloud. “At first, I was so focused on seeing some brilliant crime-solving method that I came in with tunnel vision. Once I didn’t find what I was looking for, I dismissed the whole thing as garbage.”

Letting go of those preconceived notions, Dagger Zhang found that these three stories were actually... unique. So unique, they barely felt like detective fictions at all.

“Well, sure, technically not a detective fiction novel—but then again, they did create this detective, Mingzhi, who’s chaotic, unconcerned with small details. A real wildcard.”

Dagger Zhang started wondering if Mingzhi had deliberately told Sanro (The Stalker in the Attic) all those famous crimes from history and fiction just to see how someone totally indifferent might react. Would he commit murder himself?

“Hmm... If you think about it like that, then the detective isn’t exactly a hero. The dark tone, the motives behind the killings—it makes you wonder if the author is mentally stable.”

Still, Dagger Zhang felt a flicker of envy. “This style breaks every rule of traditional detective fiction writing. It completely ignores the classic 'three Ws'—who, why, and how—and yet somehow still manages to be compelling. No wonder Han praised him so much. Who is this guy? Some seasoned pro?”

He opened up the detective fiction lovers’ chat group and typed:

Dagger Zhang: “Has anyone read the latest issue of Chronicles of Mystery? I found an intriguing new writer worth checking out—Gu Lu. But don’t go in expecting your standard detective fiction fare.”

LoveIsAGoneCause: “Huh? I’ll check it out.”

About twenty minutes later, the early readers started filtering back.

Zuo Feng 112: “Can’t say I loved it, but Mingzhi caught my attention. That Doctor Mera plotline though? Kinda far-fetched.”

Bamboo Leaf Cake: “Maybe the author starts with simple cases to set up Mingzhi’s brilliance, then ramps it up. Does he have anything longer than short stories?”

Yan Jiusi: “Wait, this style feels oddly familiar. Twisted logic mixed with disturbing psychology—I swear I’ve seen something like this before somewhere.”

As soon as Yan Jiusi said that, the chat buzzed with interest. Everyone agreed—he sounded promising. Definitely someone to watch.

What followed in the group chat wasn't worth rehashing here. Let's switch focus back to Gu Lu, who was sitting at home thinking about choosing a high school already. At least then he wouldn’t have to attend as many classes anymore.

“Are we doing the graduation dinner?”

“Of course! Last chance to hang out. How much is it?”

“We’ve got a bit of class fund left, planning to hit Zeng Hotpot for buffet-style. Still need around ten yuan per person if you’re coming.”

“No problem. Here’s twenty—I’ll cover Chen Xue’s part too.”

Gu Lu had entered through the back door of the classroom and overheard Chen Na and Zhang Yudong chatting. That’s when it hit him—just like that, they’d only known each other for less than two months, and now everyone was moving on.

Why did that feel… kind of sad?

He pulled out ten yuan and handed it to the class monitor. If it had been his old self making the call, he definitely wouldn’t have gone. Ten yuan was expensive for him back then.

“Decide where you’re going to school yet? Got a recommendation?” Fan Xiaotian suddenly asked. Out of nowhere, Mr. Reliable!

“Probably Bashu High or No. 8 Middle School,” Gu Lu replied.

He expected the usual reaction—something like, “Wow, both are top schools!”—but Fan Xiaotian just shrugged.

“I’d pick No. 8. Closer to where I live. We can hang out after school sometimes.”

Of course. Classic Fan Xiaotian. His priorities had always been off-center. Gu Lu exhaled—no parallel universe takeover today.

His phone buzzed during class. He silenced it quickly.

“Teacher,” Gu Lu raised his hand. “Can I go to the restroom?”

Apparently, quite a few students were too shy to ask permission like that and just held it in until class ended. Worse was when two classes ran back-to-back with no break in between.

Han Cang: “Hey Mr. Gu, sorry for interrupting class, but the editor’s been pushing hard—are you ready to make a decision about becoming a contracted writer?”

That urgent?

Gu Lu: “Didn’t I say I'd think about it over summer? Why the rush now?”

He replied while standing in the bathroom stall.

Back when discussing the contract with Young Literature, he’d signed on paper but hadn’t written a single word yet.

The deal was: publish 50k words per year in serial form, paid at 180 RMB per thousand characters. If the work did well, they’d help release a standalone book. Copyright was handled professionally—they had published dozens already. It was a win-win.

Fifty thousand words annually may sound low, but for a student, it was tight. Still, Gu Lu used the golden excuse: “First and foremost, I’m a student.”

And the editors agreed.

Truthfully, he wanted to wait until after the recommendation process—he needed that scholarship.

Smart budgeting, Gu Lu.

Han Cang: “Our latest issue dropped today, and the website has been flooded with comments. Most of them are asking for more of your stories. Yours received the strongest reactions this issue.”

Gu Lu read the message and responded bluntly:

Gu Lu: “Inspiration takes time. I can’t force it.”

Straight-up truth.

Editor Han Cang immediately replied:

Han Cang: “Totally fine! We can sign the contract first. No pressure—you take your time with the content.”

Han Cang: “Everyone’s really looking forward to your next stories.”

Which, of course, also made it easier for Han to justify things to his boss.

After considering carefully, cautious Gu Lu declined the offer to sign upfront. He hated committing before he felt ready.

Gu Lu: “I’ll find inspiration eventually.”

With that, the conversation ended.

Curious about the editor’s claims, Gu Lu checked the official site on his outdated phone.

It could still access the internet—if he squinted and ignored the painfully slow connection.

He logged into the Chronicles of Mystery homepage via mobile network and dug through the reader comments.

Opinions on The Stalker in the Attic, Doctor Mera's Mysterious Crime, and Murder on D Street were deeply divided.

Some wrote: “This isn't detective fiction—it’s a crime novel. There’s no actual deduction process.”

Others raved: “Love it! Looking forward to more!”

Well, novels were like radio waves—some people just didn’t receive the same frequency. Like Edogawa Rampo’s work; if you weren’t tuned in, it wouldn’t resonate. Gu Lu understood perfectly.

Just as he was about to lock his phone and leave the restroom, one comment caught his eye: “Does author Gu Lu also write for Story Digest? I read a story called The Dwarf in their latest issue, and the style felt eerily similar.”

“Oh?” Gu Lu smirked. “Someone’s starting to connect the dots.”

If readers kept digging, they might start linking all the ‘Gu Lu’ pieces across different magazines…

He chuckled to himself. Once that happened, it’d definitely stir up some drama.

Once back in class, he returned to his seat.

Most of Class 5 was studying pretty seriously lately—even his desk mate had stopped sneaking snacks during lectures.

At lunchtime, Zhang Yudong and Chen Xue invited Gu Lu and Fan Xiaotian to explore the neighborhood together, hoping to stumble upon someone that needed help...

Gu Lu declined. He had a final negotiation to attend—an important meeting with the high school admissions office. Time to decide which school he was accepting.

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