Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C70

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Chapter 70: Unreachable

“Mr. Cat-San-Ning, when will your new series begin?” someone asked.

“It might take a while,” Cat-San-Ning replied with a shrug. “There are some logical issues I need to smooth out.”

“Logic is the soul of detective fiction,” another chimed in.

“What about the ending for Sun Tower? I’m eagerly anticipating how it wraps up. Many authors struggle with endings, but Miss Zhong Xiu’s work tends to shine brightest in its final chapters,” yet another added.

“I’ve already planned it out,” Zhong Xiu said confidently. “It’ll be wrapped up in about two more installments, and the plot is progressing steadily.”

Regardless of social standing or seniority within the detective fiction-writing community, Chief Editor Gao commanded attention at their table. The conversation flowed under his subtle guidance.

He then steered the discussion toward a topic everyone could weigh in on: “What do you think is the future trend of detective fiction?”

“It’s going to become more professionalized,” Cat-San-Ning said without hesitation. “Detectives who are forensic experts or police officers have an advantage both in terms of censorship and reader appeal. That’s where I see the genre heading.”

Zhong Xiu hesitated, her response lagging slightly behind. She felt a faint pang of disillusionment—her idolization of Gu Lu had been shaken—and this dampened her desire to contribute.

“What does Mr. Gu think?” Chief Editor Gao interjected, turning all eyes toward the youngest writer present. “Mr. Han mentioned to us editors that despite his age, Mr. Gu has profound insights into the industry.”

Why call me out like this? Gu Lu reluctantly set down his chopsticks, having barely touched the sweet and sour mandarin fish he’d been enjoying.

Before arriving, Gu Lu had prepared some thoughts, knowing full well he’d be the center of attention due to his youth. This was also an opportunity to showcase a touch of “genius” while he still held the upper hand.

The other eight people at the round table—all seasoned professionals like Cat-San-Ning, Zhong Xiu, and Chief Editor Gao—now fixed their gaze on him.

“I haven’t been reading detective fiction for long, so I’ll just share my rough thoughts. If I say anything wrong, feel free to correct me,” Gu Lu prefaced, preemptively deflecting criticism. “In my opinion, the future of detective fiction may lean toward what I’d call ‘concept-driven storytelling.’”

Concept-driven? A fresh term piqued everyone’s interest, and they leaned in to listen.

“Crime tricks will eventually run dry, which is why writers now focus heavily on motives, giving rise to the popularity of social-issue detective fictions. Take locked-room puzzles, for example—they’ve been done to death.” Gu Lu paused before continuing. “So, I believe introducing innovative concepts will shape the next wave of detective fiction.”

He offered an example: “Imagine a drug that splits reality into parallel worlds. However, if one version of the victim dies in any world, all versions die simultaneously. You can layer multiple parallel-world scenarios to create intricate plots.”

Drawing from memories of trends decades ahead, Gu Lu knew Japan had always led the way in detective fiction. By 2019, few pure whodunits remained; instead, conceptual twists took precedence.

“It doesn’t have to involve sci-fi elements,” he continued. “For instance, imagine a world where a god exists who always reveals the murderer’s name accurately—but one day, the deity names someone seemingly impossible to be guilty. Is the god mistaken, or did this person commit an unimaginable crime?”

“That’s my humble perspective.”

His words hung in the air as those seated around the table fell into deep thought.

Being one step ahead makes you a genius; being ten steps ahead makes you a madman. Chen Tianqiao, founder of Qidian, embodied this perfectly when he pushed for pan-entertainment ventures back in 2005—a time when smartphones were unheard of in China. Predictably, it flopped.

Gu Lu studied their expressions carefully, unsure whether his ideas came across as visionary or absurd. Had he overstepped?

“Incorporating strong conceptual frameworks diversifies the scope of tricks available to writers. Mr. Gu’s suggestion offers a bird’s-eye view of the future,” Chief Editor Gao remarked appreciatively. “The homogenization of modern detective fiction is indeed severe, and expanding boundaries is crucial to breaking that cycle.”

Editors and authors approached these ideas differently. For instance, Cat-San-Ning wondered if Gu Lu’s examples could realistically translate into novels.

One by one, silence settled over them as they pondered.

All of Gu Lu’s examples seemed plausible upon reflection. Cat-San-Ning immediately admired the boy’s boundless imagination.

“A smart kid like this has ideas that soar beyond limits,” Cat-San-Ning thought to himself.

“So, does this mean traditional detective fiction is doomed? Like Christie’s style?” Han Cang posed the question aloud.

This was, after all, the tenth anniversary gathering of the Agatha Christie fan forum. Could Gu Lu honestly declare Christie’s methods obsolete?

Fortunately, his extensive reading paid off here.

“Not necessarily. Christie wrote The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, which famously used narrative deception—the narrator turns out to be the killer.” Gu Lu drew parallels to Sherlock Holmes stories, where Watson, the main narrator, could theoretically hide secrets.

“Let’s push it further. What if Poirot made a mistake in his deduction? Who, then, is the real culprit?” Gu Lu referenced a fanfiction novel he’d read titled Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?—a creative reinterpretation of Christie’s classic.

Hearing this, Han Cang’s curiosity sparked. “Your explanation makes me want to dive back into those books. No wonder you’re writing… Speaking of which, Mr. Gu’s upcoming project—a continuation of Sherlock Holmes—is shaping up to be one of the best Holmes sequels ever written. It’s highly anticipated.”

A Holmes sequel? Bold move!

But Cat-San-Ning reconsidered. A sharp-minded prodigy like Gu Lu probably feared nothing.

From his speech and demeanor, it was clear Gu Lu was well-read and open-minded. The three short stories in the Mingzhi series might truly be his work. Zhong Xiu mused silently.

However, capturing human nature required life experience. So, what exactly had this high schooler endured? Zhong Xiu observed closely, piecing together clues.

First, though sixteen years old, Gu Lu appeared unusually thin for his age.

Second, judging by his clothes—he didn’t live with his mother. If she were involved, she’d know Harbin’s weather and ensure he packed warm clothing.

Lastly, his maturity far exceeded his years. Politeness and maturity weren’t synonymous, but maturity often stemmed from a lack of parental protection. Without anyone to rely on, one grew up fast.

Remarkably, Zhong Xiu deduced much of Gu Lu’s family situation correctly. Truly, a detective fiction writer’s instincts never failed.

---

Meanwhile, in Chongqing, whispers of Gu Lu’s legend spread—even though he wasn’t there.

The buzz centered around Young Pioneer Newspaper. Reporter Wang had previously interviewed Gu Lu after his unprecedented provincial first prize win in the Ye Shengtao Cup competition. Now, tasked with covering national-level winners, Wang sought another interview.

This time, however, the target wasn’t Gu Lu himself but his parents—to share their parenting wisdom.

For a seasoned journalist like Wang, this should’ve been routine. Yet, he hit his first snag almost immediately: neither parent could be reached.

Frustrated, Wang turned to Gu Lu’s former homeroom teacher, Mr. Li.

“I apologize for disturbing your rest, Mr. Li,” Wang began, “but we obtained your school’s records for Gu Lu’s parents’ contact information. One number goes unanswered, and the other is disconnected. Do you happen to know how we might reach them?”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Li explained. “Gu Lu comes from a divorced family. His mother changed her number, and our school doesn’t have the updated info.”

“And the other number?”

“Well…” Mr. Li hesitated. “Even we teachers have never managed to contact Gu Lu’s father.”

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