Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C74

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Chapter 74: He’s Dead

Gu Lu’s father opened his mouth as if to explain something, but no words came out. From the memories of his previous self, Gu Lu knew exactly what kind of man his father was—a weak, drunken bully who only asserted himself within the confines of their home. And even then, whenever someone stronger—like Gu Lu’s mother—was present, he would crumble instantly.

“So, is there anything else you want to ask me, Dad?” Gu Lu asked, his tone indifferent.

The medical report lay in his father’s trembling hands: [Moderate Chronic Inflammation of the Gastric Antrum]. Tears streamed down the older man’s face, falling like rain. His sobs were loud and wrenching, as though mourning a death.

“Son… I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. Forgive me,” Gu Lu’s father choked out, his spirit and spine seemingly sucked dry, leaving him a hollow shell.

“No, no, no,” Gu Lu waved dismissively, his expression unreadable. “The Gu Lu who needed that apology is already dead. I don’t need it.”

The word dead struck a raw nerve, shattering something deep inside Gu Lu’s father. Panic gripped him, and tears mixed with snot streamed uncontrollably down his face.

Human joys and sorrows are not shared. To Gu Lu, the man’s wailing sounded grating, almost comical.

With nothing left to say, Gu Lu turned to leave. But just as he reached the doorway, he paused and added, “By the way, I don’t have to pay for food or lodging at Eighth High School, so I won’t be needing the ten yuan or so you usually give me each month. Also, please don’t disturb my studies. I’m working hard to become someone useful to society.”

His father wanted to call out, to stop him, but Gu Lu had already cut off any avenue for response. There was no need for him to provide living expenses or tuition anymore. All the words Gu Lu’s father might have said lodged painfully in his throat.

Gu Lu walked out of the building with an eerie calm, taking a deep breath once he stepped outside. This confrontation had been brewing for a long time.

If this had been the original Gu Lu, even during such a bitter argument, he would’ve said something like, “Dad, you should drink less. Alcohol isn’t good for your health. No matter what happens, Mom isn’t coming back… Life is still long. Why not try to live better?”

“No wonder kids from dysfunctional families struggle to escape them even as adults,” Gu Lu mused, reflecting on the exchange. “There are only two ways out: either they’re so utterly disappointed they can’t bear it anymore, or they find external support. My case falls into the latter category. But those who belong to the first group… how exhausting must their lives be?”

Gu Lu felt surprisingly light-hearted. Today, he decided to splurge and treat himself to hot pot.

It wasn’t the pain inflicted on his father that made him happy. After all, people like Gu Lu’s father were prone to saying things like, “I’m sorry, but I’ll do it again next time.” What truly delighted Gu Lu was speaking the words the original body never could.

Before his transmigration, the former Gu Lu had neither reached rock bottom nor found external support. Now, he felt as though he’d finally grasped the plum blossoms perched high on a tree branch.

Alone, armed with chopsticks, Gu Lu waged war against the feast before him until his stomach swelled. By the time he rolled back home, groaning softly, he was stuffed to the brim.

---

Early the next morning, Gu Lu used his newly purchased Xiaomi 1 smartphone to review the final draft of his manuscript. Having altered the subplot of the book, he meticulously scrutinized it for inconsistencies.

“A four-inch screen is brutal,” Gu Lu muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Playing games like Angry Birds or Talking Tom Cat is fine, but editing documents? My eyes feel like they’re crossing.”

Indeed, practice revealed truth. While current smartphones sufficed for emergencies, relying on them for prolonged typing proved impractical.

[Orange Chief: The complete manuscript of Mr. Holmes has been sent to Editor Han’s email. Total word count: approximately 170,000.]

Gu Lu couldn’t resist mentioning the word count because, at 180 yuan per thousand words, the advance payment for the first volume and the remaining 120,000 words meant nearly 20,000 yuan after taxes.

“One step at a time,” Gu Lu thought. “Secure my livelihood—move out on my own—buy a phone—buy a computer…” Once he received the bulk payment from magazine serialization, he planned to invest in a proper setup.

Pulling out his notebook, Gu Lu recorded his recent expenses. Since learning to keep accounts, he hadn’t abandoned the habit.

He also took stock of his current situation. Both Decisive Moments in History and After School had issues and couldn’t be published yet.

“It’s been over a month since the last trigger event at Nanping Amusement Park, and nothing’s happened since.”

Gu Lu pondered whether his cheat worked better in school—or perhaps when witnessed by peers?

---

As a contracted writer, Gu Lu enjoyed priority in manuscript reviews. Moreover, his new book carried significant anticipation within the editorial department. Even days later, his speech about the future of detective fiction at AC Forum’s decade-long offline gathering remained a focal point of internal discussions.

Editor Gao even remarked, “If Gu Lu continues along this path, he might become the pioneer of a new wave of detective fiction.”

The phrase “might” was cleverly chosen. Editor Gao, informed by Director Jian, knew Gu Lu excelled not only in fairy tales but across various genres—a true jack-of-all-trades!

Thus, when news reached Daqing Editorial Department, Editor Han Cang exclaimed, “Mr. Gu has sent over the complete draft of Mr. Holmes!”

“Youthful energy indeed! He finished the entire thing in one go.”

“Hahaha, Han Cang, you can finally stop pestering him for drafts. Forward it to my email—I want to take a look too.”

“Holmes at ninety-three? I couldn’t get enough of the first volume.”

“What a treat! Hurry up, I need to read it immediately.”

Whispers filled the room, especially from Xia Mu, the department’s sole female editor, who adored the work deeply.

Suddenly, the door to the chief editor’s office swung open, and a stern voice silenced the commotion. “What’s all this noise? Is this a workplace or a marketplace?”

The editorial department froze, terrified.

“Han Cang, send me a copy of Xiao Gu’s manuscript,” Chief Editor Gao commanded, scanning the room before fixing his gaze on Han Cang.

“Yes, yes, I’ll send it right away,” Han Cang nodded quickly, privately noting that even the chief editor couldn’t wait.

Emails made everything convenient. With a single click, Han Cang forwarded the manuscript to everyone. Within minutes, nearly the entire editorial team was engrossed in Gu Lu’s work.

Having revisited the first volume yesterday, Han Cang seamlessly dived back into the story.

The first volume ended with Holmes uncovering that Li Zhi, the poet, had intentionally lured him to China using calamus. But what was Li Zhi’s true purpose?

The second volume began with Holmes jolting awake from a nightmare—

“Brilliant! Three intertwining plotlines without a hint of confusion!” Han Cang exclaimed, unable to contain his admiration.

Three threads: Holmes’ retirement life in Sussex, England; his search for wild calamus in China alongside Li Zhi; and the final problem faced by forty-seven-year-old Holmes.

As the story unfolded, every thread found resolution. Take the Chinese storyline, for instance.

Turns out, Li Zhi didn’t care about wild calamus at all. He sought Holmes merely to inquire about his father, who had written years ago claiming he consulted the famous detective before deciding to settle in England—only to vanish without a trace.

[And so, as twilight swiftly descended, I departed from this garden, carrying nothing but an irreparable void… That emptiness took the shape of a mysterious woman’s silhouette, one who had never seen me.]

By the end, Han Cang’s eyes stung. Unable to hold back, he muttered, “Damn author, these emotional blows are too sharp!”

Looking up, he noticed Xia Mu’s eyes were already red-rimmed…

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