Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C146

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Chapter 146: A Razor-Sharp Cut

"This is today's assignment," Qi Caiwei handed her book review to .

The workload at was demanding, so students typically managed to finish only one or two books a week.

This pace felt agonizingly slow compared to the days when Gu Lu devoured online novels—up to a million words in a single day!

Of course, reading web novels and physical books were inherently different experiences. Still, Gu Lu skimmed through Qi Caiwei’s review in moments.

"Not bad," he remarked.

Qi Caiwei beamed with delight. To be honest, her sharp features suited a cold demeanor far better than her perpetual grin—but she couldn’t help smiling often.

"When you stop showing me your reviews, that’s when you’ll have truly mastered it," Gu Lu said.

"If I don’t show you, I feel uncertain," Qi Caiwei muttered softly. She knew she was a bother to her desk partner but made up for it by diligently helping him with math, physics, and chemistry—even if progress was minimal.

The next class involved reviewing exam papers. Since Gu Lu hadn’t completed his, he turned his thoughts toward future submissions.

Currently, all payments from Youth Digest, Young Literature, Story Digest, and Fear Guest had been settled. Only two more installments remained for .

With Gu Lu now financially self-sufficient, his submission frequency had dropped significantly. However, even with reduced output, it was time to submit again.

Professional short-story writers couldn’t guarantee every piece would succeed upon submission, so writing thirty to forty thousand words weekly and producing four or five stories was standard practice.

Gu Lu’s success rate hovered at an impressive 99%. The question now was whether to use the works of Marcel Aymé or .

Should he blend literary depth with wild imagination, or elevate science fiction to world-class standards?

"If I choose the former, I can aim for core literary journals and compete for mainstream literary awards."

So far, only one of Gu Lu’s works, , had entered a competition but didn’t win any award. But no matter; Director Jian planned to enter the "" long-form category next year.

After much deliberation, Gu Lu suppressed his vanity and decided to unleash Liu Cixin first!

After all, he reasoned, he was still young, and delivering emotional punches mattered more. Stories like The Village Teacher and With Her Eyes were tearjerkers, while others carried biting satire—like the tale of twenty billion gods…

"Thankfully, these are just short stories. Plus, I’ve already established a reputation for experimenting with styles. Attempting such variety in a novel would require careful planning."

With that in mind, Gu Lu began selecting which story would lead the charge.

As for the magazine, there was no need to choose. Domestic sci-fi magazines were scarce, and the genre was even less popular than mystery fiction.

Meanwhile, Gu Lu’s ambition to become the "highest-selling short-story writer in China" was steadily progressing.

First, preparations for his short-story anthology were underway. After Director Wang of New Youth Publishing reviewed several options, they settled on Park of Yesterday. The title was evocative and appealed to literary enthusiasts.

Second, regarding ’s development, Gu Lu entrusted Director Jian to leverage his connections and find a reliable collaborator.

Finally, to bolster the anthology, Gu Lu planned to include Liu Cixin’s works. While some other stories couldn’t be published due to restrictions, With Her Eyes could be used in its entirety!

The bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"So tired!" Zeng Jie suddenly exclaimed. "Hearing the dismissal bell makes me exhausted."

His puzzled classmates asked, "Don’t you mean the morning bell?"

"Do you know Mi Lei? He wrote a poem: 'If winter comes, can spring be far behind?'" Zeng Jie explained. "When I hear the dismissal bell, I think about how class will start again in ten minutes, so I get tired."

It sounded oddly reasonable, leaving everyone speechless. Though… wasn’t the poet named ? Or maybe Milady? Gu Lu chuckled inwardly.

During the break, some students scrambled to play card games discreetly, hiding from teachers’ watchful eyes.

The game? Yu-Gi-Oh! Gu Lu always thought Yu-Gi-Oh! was niche, yet somehow Class 10 managed to gather enough players to form a small group.

No. 8 High School tolerated having an anime club, but a tabletop gaming club? That would have to wait until college.

"Gu Lu, come over to my house for dinner this Saturday," Li Guyuan approached.

"This Saturday? I might be busy," Gu Lu replied.

"What a pity! My mom was planning to cook a feast—it’s my dad’s birthday," Li Guyuan lamented.

"!" Gu Lu reconsidered his plans for Saturday. "I’ll try to make it. It’s not about the food—I’d really like to help celebrate your dad’s birthday."

Li Guyuan gave him a thumbs-up.

Thus ended another day. The next morning brought something noteworthy: the release of .

"Hey, hey, Lao Gu, come take a look! This is incredible, seriously amazing!"

Though Changmao was the shopkeeper, he’d never been much of a reader, so his excitement manifested as repeated exclamations of “awesome” and “dope.”

Unlike college students, who added “wow” to their vocabulary.

"What’s going on?" Gu Lu’s father responded. Last night’s drinking session had been mild—just one bottle of per person and half a case of beer.

Having drunk less, he rose early. The sun hadn’t yet set.

"Look here—" Changmao pointed to the front-page headline of Chongqing Daily.

"You read newspapers?" Gu Lu’s father seemed surprised.

"My shop subscribes to newspapers and fashion magazines for customers," Changmao explained. "Gu Lu’s in the paper—did you know?!"

Changmao read aloud excerpts:

[Editor’s Note: According to reports from Young Pioneer Newspaper and People’s Literature:

Gu Lu, born in 1996 in Yongchuan, Chongqing, is best known for The Little Prince and , along with dozens of short stories. He won first prize in the Ye Shengtao Cup and the Chongqing Liquor Culture Essay Contest. Renowned literary critic praised him as a once-in-a-decade writing prodigy. , director of Youth Literature, described Gu Lu as uniquely versatile: "Like water, he adapts effortlessly to any container."

Recently, our reporter interviewed this gifted young author from Chongqing No. 8 High School during the publication of The Little Prince.]

How did Changmao instantly recognize Gu Lu? Because the article included a photo.

To be honest, compared to the disheveled appearance of Gu Lu’s father, Gu Lu looked worlds apart. Since their confrontation weeks ago, Gu Lu’s father hadn’t given his son much thought. So he couldn’t understand how Gu Lu had become a writer.

"You’re joking, right?" Gu Lu’s father stared at Changmao, whose expression remained serious.

"Let me see." He snatched the newspaper.

The front page featured dual headlines: one announced the opening of Metro Line 3’s Tongyuanju and Gongmao stations, while the other read: "Exclusive Interview with Gu Lu: Fairy Tales for Adults, a Planet Without Others."

Seeing his son’s photo, Gu Lu’s father felt a pang. Scanning the text quickly:

[When asked about readers’ most pressing question—the metaphors in The Little Prince—Gu Lu responded: "There are many metaphors in The Little Prince. I won’t answer what readers are most curious about—the rose and the fox—because in fairy tales, the author’s intent doesn’t matter."

"What matters is what you see in it," he said. "For example, many interpret the sheep as hope. Drawing a box, though you can’t see inside, still holds hope."

"But for me, the sheep represents my father. The box is a room. Before opening the box, I always believed my father was inside."

Continuing, he added: "As a child, I always believed there was a sheep inside the box."

"And now?"

"Now I don’t care whether there’s a sheep inside—or even the box itself."]

A chilling blow struck Gu Lu’s father, recalling his son’s earlier words: "Studying at No. 8 High School costs nothing—not food, lodging, or the roughly ten yuan monthly allowance. Please don’t disturb my studies; I want to become someone useful to society."

His alcohol-dulled brain calculated: in the past year, he’d spent fewer than twenty days at home.

Suddenly, breathing became difficult, and his throat itched—a sure sign he wanted to drink. "Let’s go grab a drink."

"Now?" Changmao glanced at the clock. "It’s only five o’clock."

Changmao never drank before eight—it was his rule, as he needed to manage the shop.

"You’re right. Gu Lu’s achieved so much; we should celebrate! Haha, tonight’s tab is on me!" Changmao decided to break his own rule.

He broke rules often, usually conspiring with Gu Lu’s father.

This interview resonated deeply—not just with Gu Lu’s father but with others too.

---

Meanwhile, at home, another conversation unfolded over the phone about publishing Mr. Holmes.

"Deputy Director Dao Mei, hello. has informed me," Gu Lu said after hanging up with Chief Editor Gao.

Was the surname Dao uncommon? Perhaps she was Hui or Dai ethnicity? Gu Lu pondered but didn’t ask.

"I definitely intend to publish Mr. Holmes. Chief Editor Gao mentioned that Director Dao would offer royalty terms I couldn’t refuse. Is that true?" Gu Lu recounted Chief Editor Gao’s promise.

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