Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C106

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Chapter 106: What Does Sprout Even Do?

"How will you know if it’ll pass unless you submit it?" asked. "Can I take a look?"

hesitated for a long moment before finally relenting. "These are all scraps—definitely not on par with your work. But if you really want to read them, go ahead."

"You can start reading. I’ll go check on my grandpa," Li Guyuan said, disappearing into the small side room almost instantly.

was a chaotic mix of random items, including swimming rings. The side room housed a single iron bed where Li Guyuan could rest during busy afternoons. On weekends, he used this space to tutor Gu Lu while his grandfather manned the store. Given his age, the elder often needed help reaching items on high shelves, though Li Guyuan wasn’t heading out to assist this time.

Instead, leaving felt like an escape from the impending "execution." As one of the "" of the class, Li Guyuan couldn’t bear to witness his own humiliation—he’d rather flee!

Gu Lu began flipping through the twenty-odd drafts. Though Li Guyuan’s handwriting was cursive and connected, it remained legible. Any unfamiliar characters could be deciphered by context, making comprehension straightforward.

The stories were similar in tone to , focusing on personal emotions and small, relatable incidents like "failing an exam" or "how to ask your mom for new shoes without upsetting her." They carried a whiff of a stripped-down version of by .

[Often, parents ask for our opinions, but their minds are already made up. If your answer differs too much, they’ll bombard you with life lessons that may or may not be true. I wish I could align my responses with theirs while still expressing some part of myself…]

Gu Lu wasn’t familiar with . A week earlier, under ’s recommendation, he’d sent something directly to an editor’s personal email (not the standard submissions inbox). Having access to an editor’s private email indicated insider status within literary circles—a privilege reserved for seasoned writers with proven track records. Yet, despite this advantage, his submission had gone unanswered.

On the other hand, Gu Lu was well-acquainted with . He’d purchased several issues and understood its content and quality.

Out of the twenty-some drafts, at least four or five stood out as publishable. Compared to his peers, Li Guyuan’s writing was leagues ahead—not just slightly better but significantly so.

"Well? Are they terrible?"

Li Guyuan didn’t want to face judgment head-on, yet he couldn’t resist sneaking peeks through the gaps in the shelves during Gu Lu’s review. Once Gu Lu set down the crumpled papers, Li Guyuan rushed over.

Gu Lu hesitated for only a second before Li Guyuan quickly deflected, "No worries! Like I said, these are just rough drafts—it’s normal if they’re bad."

His reactions betrayed a deep lack of confidence in his work—a stark contrast to the pride he’d previously shown when boasting about his serialized stories.

"I didn’t say they were bad," Gu Lu clarified. "It’s just… my piece got rejected by Sprout, so I don’t feel qualified to judge whether yours would pass."

"What?!" Li Guyuan blurted, cutting him off. "What kind of eyes do those Sprout editors have if they rejected your work? That magazine is doomed!"

Uh—no need to get so worked up. After calming Li Guyuan down, Gu Lu continued, "You should try submitting to Young Literature. I think about one-sixth of these could make it."

He added, "That magazine is one of the —pretty prestigious. At least in terms of literary quality, it’s on par with Sprout."

"Really?" Li Guyuan’s voice, normally gruff due to puberty, cracked into a higher pitch.

"Do you really think I can get into Young Literature?" Li Guyuan asked cautiously.

"One question," Gu Lu probed. "Why did you assume your work wouldn’t pass before even submitting? Your stories are fairly complete, and you’ve had successful publications before."

"...” Li Guyuan fell silent.

The writing style of Grandma’s Flowerpot matched these drafts perfectly, ruling out the possibility of ghostwriting.

After another minute of silence, Gu Lu decided not to press further. Everyone has secrets.

"This is the submission email address," Gu Lu said, pointing out a few standout stories. "You can type them up on the shop’s computer—I personally think these ones are the strongest."

"I’ll type these up and send them over right away," Li Guyuan replied, then added, "Oh, my mom made tonight—one of your favorites. You have to eat more!"

"How can I impose…" Gu Lu thought about the adorable bunnies, marinated and deep-fried… His mouth began watering involuntarily.

For the next hour, Gu Lu reviewed history notes while Li Guyuan typed furiously. Under the dim light, their hunched figures worked toward brighter futures.

Scoring high on high school history tests didn’t necessarily mean extensive knowledge, but it did imply greater effort.

Around 7 PM, Li Guyuan began glancing outside frequently.

Bai Le Grocery Store was the largest shop in the neighborhood, operating from early morning (even earlier in summer) until late at night, never closing—even during holidays. Since the family lived just a couple hundred meters away, meals were brought over. Tonight, however, both parents arrived laden with dishes.

A large pot of steamed rice, a plate of grilled fish, and three stainless steel thermoses containing three dishes and a soup: spicy rabbit, stir-fried potatoes, minced meat with eggplant, and tofu vegetable soup.

There was plenty of food, requiring Li Guyuan’s grandfather to fetch extra supplies.

"!" Gu Lu exclaimed, marveling at the spread.

This comment irked Li’s father, a native of . "This is Wuxi-style grilled fish," he corrected. "Don’t be fooled by all those shops calling themselves ‘Wanzhou-style.’ They don’t know what they’re talking about!"

"Wuxi used to belong to Wanzhou for administrative purposes, which is why it was marketed as such. But now that Wuxi falls under Chongqing’s jurisdiction..."

"In short, only Wuxi-style grilled fish is authentic," Li’s mother concluded. Turning to Gu Lu, she added, "Ignore him; his ears must be calloused from repeating this. Eat up—the flavor’s excellent."

Two red plastic beer crates served as makeshift table legs, topped with a wooden plank to create a temporary dining table.

Time to dig in!

"Boss, pack me some —eating so well tonight?"

At the sound of business, Li’s father immediately set aside his chopsticks to grab cigarettes from the counter, chatting casually with the customer. Most patrons were regulars in this tight-knit community.

The food was delicious, and Gu Lu polished off two bowls of rice in no time, feeling about 70% full.

"I’m full," Gu Lu declared, setting down his chopsticks.

"You’re still growing! Two bowls aren’t enough to fill you up. Look at Li Guyuan—he eats three or four bowls and doesn’t gain weight," Li’s mother scolded gently, whisking away his bowl to refill it.

Gu Lu protested, "Auntie, I really can’t eat anymore."

"Then eat more of the rabbit—we don’t like it anyway. It’s specially prepared for you," she insisted, picking out pieces of rabbit meat from the heap of red and green chili peppers and placing them onto Gu Lu’s plate.

From the first visit, Li Guyuan’s parents had treated him with such warmth. In two lifetimes, Gu Lu had never experienced such direct, heartfelt care—especially from a classmate’s family.

Should he feel happy or melancholic?

Happy, of course. The past was behind him, and the future promised sweet rewards.

Though the grocery store’s lighting was dim, Gu Lu felt bathed in a warm, golden glow that softened everything around him.

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