Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C151 Part 3

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Reaching the street corner, Li Guyuan stopped as Gu Lu boarded a tricycle home.

“So many flyers?” Gu Lu removed pamphlets stuffed in the door handle.

Whether true or rumor, Gu Lu heard thieves used flyers to gauge household vacancy. Accumulated flyers signaled prolonged absence.

Entering home, Gu Lu’s straight posture slumped instantly, dragging his steps lethargically.

After showering, he sat before the computer.

Before typing, he liked fiddling—anything but writing felt fun. Currently, he flipped through Li Guyuan’s notebooks.

Opening the blue notebook, he froze. Wow! Guyuan’s handwriting was messy but legible.

[Definition of the : Maintaining political hierarchy through proximity.

Note: Don’t omit “paternal.” Bloodline proximity alone is incorrect.

Characteristics of the Clan System: and major-minor clan distinctions.

Note: Ignore minor clans—they’re relative. Remember “relative.”

Impact of the Clan System: Significant influence on .

…]

The first page brimmed with text, distinguished by blue and black pens separating questions and answers.

Gu Lu realized Li Guyuan annotated potential errors—a “prevention notebook.”

“So meticulous!” Flipping quickly, Gu Lu acknowledged truthfully—he might fill one such notebook per semester.

“He really considers me a friend…” Borrowing exercise books was acceptable, but copying? No thanks.

Guyuan’s hurried handwriting reflected limited time.

Determined not to disappoint Guyuan’s kindness, Gu Lu resolved, “My geography, politics, and history scores must improve over midterms.”

Setting aside the blue notebook for classroom study, he opened the red one, finding fewer entries.

[List of high schools: First, Third, Eighth, Twenty-Ninth…

Among Chongqing high schools, only publishes its own journal—an advantage for us!

Preliminary cooperation reached with First High’s literary club—leveraging connections. Upon ’ publication, they’ll promote and solicit submissions, exchanging for an editorial slot.

Partial agreement with Third High—they’ll promote Eight Seeds post-publication but prohibit student submissions, citing teacher disapproval? (Suspicious—I suspect they plan a new journal.)

…]

Within a month, Li Guyuan contacted seven high schools, approaching literary clubs or library managers where clubs didn’t exist.

“Does Guyuan have cloning abilities? This efficiency is unreal!” Gu Lu marveled.

Such feats were beyond him.

Impressive!

Flipping to the end, Gu Lu spotted—

[Regarding editorial slots, I propose forming a cross-school “Editorial Council” led by the chief editor, comprising ten rotating members annually.

Thus, even if Gu Lu and I graduate, Eight Seeds retains support from schools holding council seats.

Simultaneously, we aim to establish Eight Seeds as Chongqing’s premier school journal. Fame attracts regular students; the council garners elite school backing—a dual moat ensuring sustainable development!

Just an idea—let’s discuss specifics.]

“…” Gu Lu’s takeaway: Guyuan should be chief editor, considering post-graduation sustainability.

Gu Lu never considered submitting works to school journals—a futile endeavor. One or two articles couldn’t sustain a journal; not all stories rivaled .

Moreover, martial arts thrived in eras lacking entertainment. In 2012, games, mobile chats, and online gaming flourished.

Completely impractical. Conversely, Li Guyuan’s dual-moat strategy was highly feasible.

Post-exams, each school—or grade—produced perfect-score essays. Most didn’t meet formal magazine standards but would gladly appear in school journals.

Finishing the red notebook, Gu Lu appreciated Guyuan’s amateurish yet methodical progress reports, revealing genuine club dedication.

Given three more months, Guyuan could secure most high schools.

“Fired up! Tonight, I’ll write ten thousand words!”

Gu Lu dove into keyboard combat, unlike Cat-San-Ning’s casual boasts.

After four intense hours (with breaks), Gu Lu completed ten thousand words, cumulatively crafting four sci-fi shorts.

For the Benefit of Mankind, Taking Care of God, , Full Spectrum Barrage Jamming

“Time to submit!” Stretching, Gu Lu rose.

Finding Story Digest’s secondary review editor, [Uh, I don’t know editors—they don’t mingle with us.]

“!!”

Gu Lu was astonished. Editors unknown to Old Li?

No issue. Gu Lu swiftly located the magazine’s general submission email online.

Since adding Old Li’s QQ, he hadn’t used standard submission channels.

Trusting ’s sci-fi quality and not urgently needing funds, Gu Lu could endure the review period.

[Mr. Gu, could you sign a copy of ? I’ll send it to you—my relative loves it. Thanks!]

Old Li’s awkwardness permeated the message. He’d intended asking Gu Lu for a signature, leveraging their rapport.

Before broaching the topic, Gu Lu approached for help, leaving Old Li unable to assist.

Seeing three messages: [Huh?] [Image] [Two weeks ago, I sent a signed copy of The Little Prince to Story Digest’s front desk under your name. Check the image address—did you not receive it?]

The image showed delivery details addressed to Story Digest’s reception, listing Old Li’s phone number. Delivery status confirmed receipt.

“Huh?” Old Li recalled a recent reception call, forgotten amidst reviewing chaos.

Surprisingly, Gu Lu remembered to send him a book.

Thrilled, Old Li’s mouse hand trembled with joy.

He promptly promised to check tomorrow.

[Alright. If it’s missing, inform me—I’ll call the courier. It can’t disappear.] Gu Lu responded.

His first book: everyone who helped—Mr. Li, Fat Boss—received copies.

Old Li was his first corresponding editor.

Even if submissions succeeded due to quality, Old Li provided initial support during urgent times. Gu Lu remained grateful.

Chatting briefly, Gu Lu submitted his manuscripts to Science Fiction World before shutting down the computer and climbing into bed.

“What if Science Fiction World offers me a regular contributor contract?” Gu Lu pondered sleepily.

“Liu Cixin’s stories are brilliant! I’m no demon—just happened to pick With Her Eyes. Not intentionally trying to make everyone cry.” Drifting off, Gu Lu slept.

The next day, Sunday.

Sunday evening self-study frustrated Gu Lu—it was illogical.

Today’s classroom atmosphere felt different.

Tension crackled like gunpowder.

Gu Lu stealthily entered, whispering to Tian Xiao, “What’s the situation?”

“Today’s basketball game. Our lost to Bashu. Another loss might drop us below Twenty-Ninth High,” Tian Xiao explained.

In Chongqing high schools, Qiujing School and No. 8 High dominated basketball—akin to , with No. 8 High as .

Bashu, comparable to Takezato High School, was typically easy to defeat—but not today.

“Then Zeng Jie provoked Lü Ping, escalating into an argument. Without Class Monitor’s intervention, they might’ve fought,” Tian Xiao added.

Ah, that explained it.

Seemingly the sole basketball club member present, Gu Lu approached Lü Ping. “Don’t be mad, Lü Ping. Everyone slips sometimes.”

“It’s not a slip. They underestimated Bashu, played carelessly, and lost,” Lü Ping countered. “Losing isn’t the issue—I accept defeat. But losing due to teammates’ negligence? Unacceptable.”

A lie. Losing to Bashu infuriated him further.

“Win next time,” Gu Lu offered lamely.

“Unlikely,” Lü Ping muttered. “What angers me most is the coach and key players dismissing the loss, focusing solely on exams. The coach even said, ‘Don’t dwell on it—focus on finals.’”

Why did Gu Lu instinctively agree with the coach? Then he recalled Lü Ping’s dedication—the hardest-working club member.

“Lü Ping, what’s more important: the game or finals?” Gu Lu asked.

“…” Lü Ping looked at Gu Lu, surprised by the question. Their decent relationship restrained his temper.

“Importance isn’t the point. Time and effort invested deserve respect. Like my track training for sports scholarships—matches test results, akin to exams. Negligence equates to random scribbling,” Lü Ping criticized teammates harshly.

Persuasive arguments. Gu Lu initially intended preaching the age-old mantra: academics trump clubs. Instead, he found himself convinced.

Self-criticizing internally, Gu Lu apologized. “Sorry. I imposed my perspective, trying to make you accept it.”

“Uh—” Unaccustomed to such formal apologies, Lü Ping stammered, “No need. You’re not me—you don’t know my efforts…”

Realization dawned. Looking up, he said, “Hold on, Bro Gu Lu. I’ll step out for a moment.”

Exiting, Lü Ping left the classroom.

Shortly after, the radio broadcast began—Time Radio Station’s voice rang out.

“Hello, this is Time Radio Station. Starting today, we’ll air brief segments during Sunday evening study sessions.”

Zhang Liwan’s soothing voice filled the air.

Most broadcasts covered trivial matters. The finale caught everyone’s attention—

“Finally, a significant campus event: No. 8 High School now has its own wall! Any student can submit posts.”

Zhang Liwan repeated the QQ number thrice.

Gu Lu glanced at Lu Yi. The campus wall had begun!

Its first post read—

[No. 8 High School Wall: How to report a homeroom teacher? Our teacher appears kind to parents but privately discriminates against girls, calling them financial burdens.

She despises underachievers excessively. Yesterday, she physically punished a student, forbidding classmates from spreading rumors.

How to replace her?]

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