Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C114

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Chapter 114: Are You Coming Too?

At halftime, the two school teams hadn’t yet resumed play, but the audience and substitute players had already begun a battle of cheers.

The momentum of the crowd’s chants began to influence the players on the court. Youth was meant to burn with passion, and the ten players on the court were now consumed by genuine fire.

“If we don’t win today, we’re dead meat.” used his local dialect to express his determination not to lose.

High school basketball wasn’t filled with dazzling three-pointers, miraculous breakthroughs, or slam dunks—those were fantasies. In fact, even minor fouls like “” went largely unnoticed because of lenient refereeing. Especially for Lü Ping, who had picked up some tricks from streetball, precision wasn’t the focus; grit was.

The skill level might’ve been lacking, but the competition was real.

Players defended aggressively, their movements chaotic and untamed. While ball-handling was messy, some players could still sink two-point shots with surprising accuracy.

It was only by participating that one could truly feel the heat. Gu Lu, shouting along with the others, found himself genuinely invested, at least for a moment. The taunts from Third High School’s audience stirred a faint sense of collective pride in him. must rise!

Lü Ping, Lu Shangtong, and the other starting five dripped sweat down their chins, like raindrops cascading off eaves.

The sweat of high school students seemed endless, much like their youth…

But time had its limits. What could end a game could also bring an end to those fleeting youthful days. After a grueling battle lasting dozens of minutes, the match concluded.

Final score: 51-54. Lü Ping scored 18 points alone, but No. 8 High School lost.

If only I’d tried harder, would the outcome have been different? Lü Ping blamed himself for not scoring those extra three points. Young hearts often leaned toward heroism, and Lü Ping carried a heavy sense of responsibility, believing it was his duty as the team’s ace to carry them to victory.

Among the teammates, all taller than 1.7 meters, some sobbed openly after the loss. This defeat would likely become one of their most cherished memories of youth.

Though the loss left Gu Lu somewhat disappointed, it didn’t weigh heavily on his mood. Still, swept up in the collective atmosphere, he bowed his head and pretended to be deeply saddened, secretly observing through the corner of his eye.

The fiery passion of these athletic youths was something Gu Lu struggled to empathize with. After all, in this story, he was merely part of the backdrop.

Lü Ping had track training in the afternoon, so he dispersed with the others. Coach Zhu stayed until the very end, comforting the students. “A single success or failure means nothing. It was only a three-point difference. Next Wednesday, we’ll hold targeted training.”

After returning home and taking a quick shower, Gu Lu changed into fresh clothes and headed toward Bai Le Grocery Store.

“During National Day, our No. 8 High School only gave us three days off. Uncle and Aunt aren’t going out to enjoy the holiday?” Gu Lu brought up a similar topic again. “Can’t the grocery store take a couple of days off too?”

The fearsome reputation of “Eighth Prison” was on full display. Could you believe it? During the Golden Week of National Day, first- and second-year students only got three days off, including the weekend. As for the third-years—well, they were expected to buckle down and study hard.

“I originally planned to visit with Qiong Feng, leaving Guyuan’s grandfather and Guyuan to watch the store. But Qiong Feng was worried about spending money…”

Before Mr. Li could finish, Mrs. Li interrupted. “Why are you talking about this in front of the child?”

Her response differed from what Gu Lu had imagined.

“The main issue is that the store can’t be left unattended. During the day, we sell sausages and fruit, while Dad repairs shoes. With just Guyuan handling everything alone, it’s impossible,” Mrs. Li explained.

Grocery stores prided themselves on stocking whatever residents needed. To be honest, online shopping was gradually becoming more popular, driving down prices for goods like shoes. Small repair stalls in alleys were disappearing.

But people who grew up in the 60s and 70s couldn’t sit idle. Grandpa Li had raised his children using this trade, and even though the grocery business provided income, he continued repairing shoes beside the shop door.

“Grandpa Li, do many people still come to get their shoes repaired these days?” Gu Lu asked curiously.

Among his tools were a hand-cranked shoe repair machine, awls, nails, walnut pliers, nail pullers, and even a homemade water bucket made from cutting the top off old basketballs or soccer balls and attaching wire handles.

“Yes, quite a few. Both young people and older folks,” Grandpa Li replied. “Young people are energetic and tend to wear out their shoes quickly, usually needing glue for detached soles. Older folks often repair their own shoes—it doesn’t earn much money, but it passes the time.”

As they spoke, Gu Lu’s phone rang.

“Excuse me, I need to take this call.” It was Gu Lu’s phone. He excused himself from the group and stepped outside to answer.

An unfamiliar number. Gu Lu felt a bit puzzled as he walked a few steps away and answered the call.

“May I speak with Gu Lu?” A rough yet gentle male voice came through the line.

It sounded familiar. Gu Lu quickly connected the dots. “Is this Reporter Wang from ?”

“I didn’t expect Xiao Gu to remember me.” Reporter Wang sounded slightly surprised.

“Of course I remember. Did you change your phone number?” Gu Lu had saved the reporter’s contact, hoping he could help promote The Little Prince once it hit the market.

“I considered changing it, but old numbers are hard to let go of—the cost of switching is too high. I’m still using my old number too.”

Reporter Wang shifted gears. “How’s your studies going at No. 8 High School, Gu Lu?”

“They’re going well,” Gu Lu nodded, waiting for the reporter to get to the point.

“Have you joined the yet, Gu Lu?” Reporter Wang asked. Knowing Gu Lu’s situation, he didn’t wait for a reply. “Apply to join the League. Monday… oh, Monday’s still a holiday. Go to school on Tuesday to submit your application.”

Once students turned fourteen, they were no longer Young Pioneers but eligible to apply for the Youth League. For top students, joining in high school was almost guaranteed.

Why bring this up suddenly? Gu Lu agreed over the phone without hesitation.

“Given your excellent performance in the Red Army Spirit Essay Contest held in , your chances of approval are very high,” Reporter Wang said.

That achievement belonged to Gu Lu’s original body, a clear signal. Gu Lu understood immediately. Young Pioneer Newspaper was run by ’s Communist Youth League branch, so the judges were essentially on their side.

“Thank you, Reporter Wang. I’ll go to school on Tuesday to apply,” Gu Lu said, guessing there must be some benefit awaiting him. Being a League member would make things easier.

“Are you free on Sunday? We’ll conduct an interview tomorrow,” Reporter Wang said. Communicating with a sensible student was efficient. The Chongqing Youth League was selecting the “Top Ten Outstanding Students of the New Era in Chongqing,” and as a reporter for Young Pioneer Newspaper, he’d been assigned to conduct preliminary interviews.

“Tomorrow?” Gu Lu hesitated.

“Is there an issue with timing?” Reporter Wang sensed Gu Lu’s uncertainty.

“What time will you be coming tomorrow, Reporter Wang?” Gu Lu asked.

“Would 2 PM work for you?”

“That should be fine,” Gu Lu replied after a brief pause.

With the agreement settled, Reporter Wang asked for Gu Lu’s new address and ended the call without further small talk.

After eating dinner at Li Guyuan’s house around 7 PM, Gu Lu arrived home by 7:30.

Without delay, he began tidying up his room. Living alone meant the place wasn’t overly messy, but items weren’t always where they belonged.

Tomorrow, his homeroom teacher would visit, and Reporter Wang would conduct an exclusive interview. Appearances mattered.

He gathered the pile of clothes scattered on the sofa—Gu Lu never threw dirty laundry around; he always placed it in the hamper.

Mostly, he focused on folding and putting away clean clothes that had been left hanging to dry. Folding them and storing them in the wardrobe was a task that often lingered for far too long.

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