Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C149

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Chapter 149: Keep It Simple

, ’s younger sister, often dreamed of her two favorite people—her mother and her brother—getting along. Gu Lu was well aware of this. Whether it was her own birthday or their mother’s, Gu Jiayu always tried to bring him over, hoping for reconciliation. So when she now told him not to reconcile, it was completely unexpected.

"Alright," Gu Lu replied first, noticing the relief washing over his sister's face before asking, "Jiayu, did you hear something?"

"Not really... it's just..." Gu Jiayu trailed off, unsure how to continue.

With a string of recent achievements—winning a writing competition, earning a spot at through recommendation, publishing articles, and releasing —Gu Jiayu could sense that her mother’s animosity toward her brother had softened. Occasionally, during casual conversations, her mother even brought up Gu Lu. In the past, this would have thrilled Gu Jiayu.

But she wasn’t an eleven-year-old girl anymore; she was almost thirteen. While her stepfather treated her kindly, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being a guest in someone else’s home. She feared that if Gu Lu came back into their lives, he’d be subjected to mistreatment too.

In Gu Jiayu’s mind, “reconciliation” meant keeping her brother away. After all, she was perhaps the only one who truly understood how hard his life had been. That’s why, when she first read The Little Prince, tears streamed down her face as she turned each page.

"One day, I saw the sunset forty-four times."

"You know, when you're sad, you love sunsets."

"Forty-four times in one day? How could you be so sad?"

This passage reminded her of Gu Lu sitting alone in his room every night, and it broke her heart.

Though she longed for her two favorite people to be together—even if just for a meal—she believed her brother could thrive on his own. He didn’t need them both in his life to succeed.

"I won’t ask further," Gu Lu said, sensing her hesitation. Changing the subject, he added, "Focus on your exams and do your best to get into No. 8 High School. If you make it, I’ll prepare a surprise for you."

As the top high school in , admission to No. 8 High School was no small feat.

Gu Jiayu immediately saluted, mimicking military precision. "Mission accepted!"

Had she stopped watching martial arts dramas and started bingeing military shows? Gu Lu wondered silently.

Passing by Xinhua Bookstore, Gu Lu bought a copy of The Little Prince, signed his name inside, and handed it to his sister.

"This is for your classmates’ autograph requests," Gu Lu explained.

"You didn’t have to buy the book! It costs nearly thirty yuan, and they don’t even give away free covers anymore!" Gu Jiayu lamented.

"For every book sold, I earn royalties," Gu Lu countered. "So technically, it’s not as expensive as it seems."

"That makes it worse!" Gu Jiayu argued. "If you earn ten yuan per book, buying one means not only losing those ten but also spending thirty. That’s like losing forty yuan altogether!"

"Hold on—I’m bad at math, don’t confuse me," Gu Lu chuckled, walking her to the street corner where their mother and stepfather lived. Beyond that point, he wouldn’t follow.

"Well then, Brother, I’m off!" Gu Jiayu waved from the corner.

Gu Lu watched until she disappeared into the building before heading back. From Bishan, he returned home, acutely aware of the stark contrast between its modest vibrancy and the bustling energy of Shapingba District.

"Snacked too much at those stalls earlier—I can’t eat dinner now. What a waste," Gu Lu muttered, eyeing the leftovers in the fridge. Normally, he’d finish them within a day, but after two days, they were better off discarded—his sensitive stomach couldn’t risk it. With a pang of guilt, he threw out half a plate of stir-fried carrots and pork.

"I shouldn’t slack off," he thought aloud. "Cooking meals in bulk may seem convenient, but it backfires when plans change. Nothing should be done purely for convenience."

Picking up a book and his notebook, Gu Lu resumed reading. Lately, consumed by writing, he hadn’t devoted as much attention to books as he used to. But shortcuts weren’t the answer. He needed to annotate passages, jot down reflections, and truly digest what he read.

After wrapping up his reading session, it was time for work. An email awaited his response:

Dear Mr. Gu Lu,

It is an honor to correspond with you for the first time.

Thanks to , I’ve been given the opportunity to translate your esteemed work.

My name is , a translator with several years of experience, though admittedly mediocre. Some of my translated works include , , and Crazy ——.

I have studied your work four or five times...

[Several hundred words omitted]

I hope to convey at least forty to fifty percent of your brilliance without disappointing you or the publisher. Should you have any expectations for the translation, please let me know. I will dedicate my entire knowledge of translation to meet your requirements. If my efforts fall short, please rest assured that I will strive to resolve any issues.

Sincerely looking forward to our next exchange.

Gu Lu sighed. The email exuded respect and politeness, yet its verbosity made him wish for brevity. Strip away the fluff, and the core message boiled down to: "Do you have any specific preferences for the translation?"

He wanted to preserve the enigmatic tone of his work, so he typed out a concise reply. But just as he was about to hit send, he paused.

"Their email was so detailed. Should I match their level of formality?" he pondered.

After a few seconds, he decided against it. The Japanese market was an unexpected bonus anyway; even if things went south, it wouldn’t matter much.

"Wasn’t Judge Dee written by a Dutch author?" Gu Lu mused. His memory of foreign authors was hazy, but he recalled one who wrote Sexual Life in Ancient China. A diplomat fascinated by Chinese detective stories and erotic literature, blending eclectic knowledge.

A quick search revealed that Crazy —— was a bestseller from the early 2000s, though nothing stood out about its quality. However, translating The Three Heroes and Five Gallants proved Yasuyama’s skill.

Titles like Sherlock Holmes in Tang Dynasty, The Invincible Loyalty Chronicles of Southern Knights, and Crazed Despair confirmed that Yasuyama favored literal translations.

"Not bad, full of spirit," Gu Lu murmured approvingly.

Speaking of spirited works, The Little Prince had sold 310,000 copies in its debut month, topping November’s charts. This success was partly due to the absence of major releases that month.

The publisher projected sales of 500,000 copies, with resources lined up accordingly. However, they underestimated the book’s longevity. Many assumed it would fade after riding the initial wave of popularity, but The Little Prince was different—it aged like fine wine.

Like life itself, it offered layers of meaning that deepened with age. And while there were countless books children struggled to understand, few resonated as profoundly upon revisiting them later in life.

Moreover, The Little Prince lent itself beautifully to sharing. In the era of short videos, its timeless quotes could fuel weeks of social media posts without repetition. Few books combined sophistication with accessibility as seamlessly.

Coupled with Gu Lu’s ongoing efforts to develop merchandise, The Little Prince promised to grow ever more iconic—a literary masterpiece destined for immortality.

For now, Gu Lu’s strategy was clear: protect the rights to The Little Prince, steadily build his reputation through short stories, and await the creation of his next classic.

---

Early Saturday morning, Gu Lu headed out. When he told Li Guyuan he had plans, he wasn’t lying.

The class reunion for the 2012 graduating class of No. 37 Middle School was held at a food court in . Given that most attendees were still students—and many came from modest backgrounds—the venue prioritized affordability and spaciousness.

Stalls offered skewers, cold noodles, spicy rice noodles, and more—all cheap and filling.

“Where’s our famous writer?” Chen Xue grumbled impatiently.

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