Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C82

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Chapter 82: What Kind of Legend?

After flipping through the pages two or three times, Wu Du confirmed that Gu Lu—reputedly a student writer—wasn’t listed among the new recruits. His expression shifted from sunny to cloudy and finally darkened.

Wan Bai, the president of the Tree People Literary Club, noticed his advisor’s change in mood. Was there an issue with the list of new members?

Wan Bai had originally been placed in an experimental class when he first entered school but fell into a parallel class after poor exam results. Despite this, he was chosen as president upon entering his final year due to his active involvement in club activities.

“Teacher Wu, is something wrong?” Wan Bai whispered cautiously.

“Is the recruitment event over?” Wu Du asked.

“Pretty much. Most of the clubs have already wrapped up,” Wan Bai replied.

Could it be that the young writer didn’t want to join any clubs? Putting himself in their shoes, Wu Du thought back to his own school days—if he’d signed contracts with magazines like Chronicles of Mystery or Young Literature, he might’ve acted similarly aloof.

“Qi Caiwei, Wei Jiao, Li Guyuan—are these three students from Class 10?” Wu Du suddenly interjected.

“That’s right, Teacher. We’re all from Class 10,” Li Guyuan answered promptly. “I really enjoy writing, and one of my stories was even published in Sprout.”

Don’t underestimate why someone would bring this up so casually. Anyone who has loved writing since childhood knows the thrill of sharing your work. A story scribbled in a notebook practically begs to be passed around the classroom; how much more satisfying must it feel to see it printed in a reputable publication? Bragging about such accomplishments wasn’t just justified—it was expected.

This revelation earned the tall, bespectacled Li Guyuan a second glance from everyone present, including President Wan Bai.

“Excellent! It seems we’ve welcomed quite a few talented newcomers,” Wu Du praised with a smile before shifting gears. “By the way, isn’t there a student named Gu Lu in your class? Gu as in ‘three visits to the thatched cottage,’ and Lu as in the illustrious strategist Lu Xun?”

A quiet reader who walks while reading books? Li Guyuan couldn’t fathom why the teacher brought up this name, but he responded honestly nonetheless. “Yes, Gu Lu is in our class. Are you looking for him, Teacher Wu?”

“Then please… Li Guyuan, correct? Please ask Gu Lu if he’d be interested in joining the Tree People Literary Club,” Wu Du requested.

“?” Whenever Li Guyuan felt a question mark forming in his mind, it wasn’t because he was confused—it was usually because the other person was acting strangely.

Who exactly was this Gu Lu?! Though his thoughts raced wildly, Li Guyuan verbally agreed to relay the message.

Qi Caiwei and Wei Jiao exchanged glances, each detecting surprise in the other’s eyes.

The Tree People Literary Club might not rank among No. 8 High School’s top-tier clubs, but it still held considerable prestige. Inviting a freshman to join outright was unusual, to say the least.

With the meeting concluded, Advisor Wu Du stepped aside, allowing President Wan Bai to take center stage. Though questions lingered in his mind, Wan Bai focused on wrapping things up.

“And so, today marks the successful conclusion of our recruitment efforts. Our orientation session will take place next Wednesday during the designated club activity period. You may now return to your respective classes,” Wan Bai announced, dismissing the group.

As the crowd dispersed, here’s a bit of trivia about the Tree People Literary Club: Its name bore no connection to Zhou Shuren (Lu Xun). Instead, it derived from Yang Ruoyu, the founder of No. 8 High School’s predecessor institution, whose motto emphasized nurturing talent over decades—hence the name “Tree People.”

“Teacher Wu… Is this Gu Lu really that impressive?” Wan Bai couldn’t contain his curiosity once the freshmen had left.

“It’s not just impressive—it’s extraordinary. Gu Lu won first prize at the national Ye Shengtao Cup, becoming Chongqing’s first-ever recipient of the award. He’s also a contracted writer for both Chronicles of Mystery and Young Literature, contributing regularly to those magazines.” Wu Du didn’t hold back.

“!!!” Wan Bai’s pupils contracted sharply. Three exclamation points perfectly conveyed his shock.

While winning the Ye Shengtao Cup sounded impressive, Wan Bai remained skeptical since he hadn’t participated in such competitions himself. Writing good essays and crafting compelling stories were related skills—but they weren’t interchangeable.

And then came the kicker…

This was the twilight era of physical literature, with magazines flourishing across genres: Youth Digest, Readers, Maxims, Ideas. Even within the literary club, only two students besides Li Guyuan had ever been published—and combined, that made three authors total. In comparison, Gu Lu’s status as a contracted writer for two major magazines seemed almost divine.

What kind of god-like figure was this?

“Are you sure, Teacher Wu?” Wan Bai stammered. “I mean, I believe you, but…”

“I understand. No need to explain further,” Wu Du cut him off, his gaze conveying what words could not.

“It’s absolutely true. This information comes directly from the administration. That’s precisely why Gu Lu was specially recruited by No. 8 High School,” Wu Du confirmed firmly.

But then another thought crossed Wan Bai’s mind: Why wasn’t Gu Lu chosen as the representative speaker at the opening ceremony? The answer came quickly enough. No. 8 High School prioritized academic performance above all else. Zhou Lin, admitted with a staggering 741 points on her high school entrance exam, was clearly the better choice.

“So, do you think inviting Gu Lu to join us is appropriate?” Wu Du probed.

“Absolutely!” Wan Bai declared without hesitation. Having someone like Gu Lu in the Tree People Literary Club would be akin to adding wings to a tiger—or fins to a fish.

In fact, Wan Bai began contemplating whether bribery might be necessary if persuasion failed.

Last year’s anniversary celebration saw the club’s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet receive rave reviews. This year, however, the administration demanded original content—not just a challenge for the advisor but for Wan Bai as well.

“Oh no! I forgot to hand out the club manuals to the new members!” Wan Bai snapped back to reality, spotting a thick stack of booklets nearby.

These internal manuals detailed club rules, primary activities, and objectives—enough to give newcomers a clear overview.

“Wan Bai, I know you’re eager, but calm down first,” Teacher Wu advised. “Let’s eat dinner before worrying about anything else.”

Still flustered, Wan Bai grabbed the pile of booklets and rushed off. With a list of over twenty new members in hand, delivering them class by class wouldn’t take long.

Not prioritizing eating first? Something’s definitely wrong with this kid’s brain!

Entering the cafeteria, the familiar sight of blue plastic tables and benches greeted them. Supported by black-painted metal frames, each table seated four people. Typically, classmates sat together, while cross-class interactions were rare.

Students queued up for food, their lines snaking erratically like eels.

It was safe to say this batch of freshmen lacked manners—they bolted toward the food line faster than lightning. The front rows were dominated by first-years, leaving sophomores and juniors trailing behind.

“Jiao Jiao, do you think Gu Lu might have gained admission through essay competitions?” Qi Caiwei suddenly mused aloud. “Our Class 10 is an innovation-focused track, filled with competition-oriented students. Maybe he won some big writing awards, which is why the literary club teacher asked about him.”

That made sense, Wei Jiao agreed. “If you’re curious, Caiwei, just ask him directly. He’s only a few spots ahead of us in line.”

Sure enough, Gu Lu stood roughly seven or eight places ahead in the queue.

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