Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C80

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Chapter 80: Planet B375

The story was deceptively simple, almost minimalist in its construction. It followed "me," a pilot whose plane malfunctioned, leaving me stranded in the desert where I encountered an alien child from Planet B375—The Little Prince.

"Planet B375? Surely that’s fictional… perhaps a nod to Class 5 of No. 37 Middle School?" Director Jian mused. As a judge for the 2012 Ye Shengtao Cup, he was well-acquainted with Gu Lu’s class details. The subtle hints embedded in the work revealed glimpses of the author’s life. Out of habit, Director Jian switched his phone to silent—a practice ingrained over years.

The narrative unfolded through alternating perspectives: "my" voice as the narrator and The Little Prince recounting his interstellar journey. Though billed as a space adventure, the tale leaned more toward whimsy than hard science fiction. Each planet visited by The Little Prince carried a distinct, almost cartoonish theme.

One planet housed only a self-proclaimed king.

Another contained a single vain individual obsessed with admiration.

Yet another belonged solely to a drunkard.

["Why do you drink?" The Little Prince asked.

"To forget," replied the drunkard.

The Little Prince, already feeling sympathy, pressed further: "Forget what?"

Head bowed, the man confessed, "To forget my shame."

"And what are you ashamed of?" The Little Prince prodded, hoping to help.

"I’m ashamed that I drink," the man muttered before falling silent.]

"Ah... a vicious cycle," Director Jian remarked aloud, recognizing the portrayal all too well. He’d seen countless drunks trapped in similar loops—hating their own decadence yet drowning their sorrows further, perpetuating the spiral. This insight into human nature confirmed just how observant Gu Lu truly was.

But it didn’t stop there. The brilliance continued!

"Little Gu—" Director Jian wanted to voice his admiration but suppressed his excitement for now. Through the eyes of The Little Prince, readers explored one peculiar planet after another. The writing brimmed with philosophical depth:

[In the eyes of the vain, everyone admires them.]

[Kings don’t possess; they merely rule.]

And then came the merchant obsessed with counting stars. His logic? Whoever discovers something first owns it. Since he claimed to have “discovered” the stars, they were rightfully his. Day and night, he tallied them, reaching over five billion.

When The Little Prince questioned him, "If I own a scarf, I can use it to protect my neck and carry it with me. If I own a flower, I can pick it and take it away. But you can’t pluck these stars!"

The merchant retorted confidently, explaining that ownership could be recorded on paper, stored safely in a drawer.

This metaphor struck Director Jian powerfully. "What a biting satire of adult society, delivered through the innocent lens of a child!" He couldn’t resist applauding. All he could say was, “Brilliantly done.”

Gu Lu’s thoughts were treasures—rich in contemplation and prescient about societal trends. Director Jian noted how, amid China’s economic boom, the lives of blue-collar workers would grow increasingly grueling, with mandatory overtime becoming rampant.

In The Little Prince, this reality manifested in a planet inhabited solely by lampposts and a lamplighter. Bound by rigid regulations, the lamplighter lit and extinguished the lamps daily. Yet as the planet’s rotation accelerated, days shortened, leaving no time for rest.

Fairy tales come in two forms: those written for adults and those crafted for children. The Little Prince bridged both audiences seamlessly. For adults, its core resonated deeply; for children, paired with charming illustrations, it sparkled with playful wonder.

Spanning tens of thousands of words and accompanied by over sixty hand-drawn images, Gu Lu’s handwriting wasn’t elegant, but it was legible and neat. After finishing the manuscript, Director Jian placed it on the desk with a satisfied sigh. “Magnificent! Little Gu has woven profound life lessons into such clear prose. In the past five years—or even ten—it’s the finest piece of children’s literature I’ve encountered.”

His praise trailed off abruptly as realization dawned. “When you truly understand this book, you’re no longer a child.” The only recourse was to remember—to not forget that you once were. Director Jian found new meaning in the dedication at the beginning of the story.

“This isn’t suitable for serialization in Young Literature,” he concluded professionally. “It lacks a conventional plotline connecting events. Instead, it should be published as a standalone book.”

“The Little Prince will create waves in the tranquil waters of the children’s book market!”

Conveniently, as the publisher’s director, he had the authority to make decisions. A man of action, Director Jian reached for his phone to call Gu Lu immediately. Then he paused, remembering Gu Lu was still a student. Evening would be better for discussions. Turning back to logistics, he considered publishing options. Word count alone wouldn’t suffice for a full-length book, but factoring in illustrations and thicker paper stock, it could work.

Gu Lu readily accepted the suggestion of direct publication, though royalties required negotiation. Meanwhile, diligently attending morning and evening study sessions, Gu Lu had planned to fulfill his promise to Teacher Hu once Mr. Holmes hit shelves. Little did he expect The Little Prince might beat it to the punch.

"Hurry up, Kedou! We’re running late!" Tian Xiao urged anxiously, his hands practically smoking from constant rubbing.

"Coming, coming!" Called Kedou—real name Dou Ke—emerged breathlessly from the dormitory. Together, the trio sprinted toward the indoor gymnasium.

A week into the school year, the freshmen of No. 8 High School had settled in nicely. Take Class 10, for instance: nicknames abounded. Dou Ke, dark-skinned, earned the moniker "Kedou" (tadpole), affectionately prefaced with “little.” Even Gu Lu hadn’t escaped unscathed—he was dubbed “Wheel” due to his surname sounding like “rolling wheels.”

Gu Lu rejected the nickname outright. Too harsh. At least “Gulu” sounded better.

The afternoon marked No. 8 High School’s “2012-2013 Academic Year Club Recruitment Fair.” Twenty-four clubs—including Tree People Literary Club, Hanfu Club, Volleyball Club, Language Arts Club, Etiquette Modeling Club, Astronomy & Geoscience Club, Science Club, Anime Club, Basketball Club, Kendo Club, and Young Chef Culinary Club—set up booths in the indoor gymnasium.

Approaching the venue, the energy was palpable. Every Wednesday from 4:20 PM to 5:50 PM was designated club activity time, untouchable by teachers. Sophomores and juniors took it seriously. Over the past week, clubs had prepared showcases. Case in point: the Young Chef Culinary Club displayed an array of fruit platters and fried chicken rings.

"Look at the lines for Science Club, Music Club, and Literary Club—they’re insane!" Dou Ke exclaimed. "Even Volleyball Club is packed. Guess clubs tied to college admissions bonuses get priority."

"Not just those," Tian Xiao chimed in wistfully. "Anime Club’s got a crowd too. Pity there’s no Pen-Spinning Club."

Overwhelmed by the crowds, Tian Xiao and Dou Ke hesitated. Both were relatively inconspicuous classmates, often sticking together for support alongside Gu Lu.

"Hey, isn’t that my former desk partner eyeing the Cooking Club?" Gu Lu spotted Zhou Lin nearby, her interest piqued by culinary arts.

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