Chapter 53: The Joke

Chen Xiaomi wandered in a daze, not knowing how she had returned to Jingcheng.

Fortunately, the “royalty” matter gave her an excellent excuse to explain away her failure.

Editor-in-Chief’s office.

Editor-in-Chief Zhou Mingwei asked slowly: “Did ‘Shouhuo’ really open a slot for December?”

Chen Xiaomi answered: “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Zhou Mingwei fell silent for a long time, then comforted her: “This isn’t your fault—even if I went, I couldn’t have done anything better. It’s just a pity.”

How could it not be a pity?

Like ‘People’s Literature’, ‘Shouhuo’ is a national-level literary journal; for the southern leader to make such a bold move, how exceptional must the novel ‘To Live’ really be?

Even a fool could figure it out!

Zhou Mingwei gripped his fountain pen and asked curiously: “I heard this ‘Shiyue’ is your fellow townsman—what’s he like? How old is he?”

Though they were fellow townspeople, that bastard wouldn’t care a bit about such ties; I was stupid to think I could play the hometown card.

And now I’ve turned myself into a joke.

For some reason, Chen Xiaomi shook her head: “He asked me to keep it secret.”

Zhou Mingwei asked sharply: “Do you know him?”

Chen Xiaomi nodded.

Seeing this, Zhou Mingwei felt even more regretful: “Ah, if it weren’t for the royalty issue, with your connection, ‘To Live’ would never have gone to another publisher.”

Chen Xiaomi stayed silent, saying nothing.

Only she knew that unless Zijin helped resolve this grudge, she and Li Heng would never see eye to eye.

Would she ask Zijin for help?

The answer was certainly not.

Because she couldn’t bring herself to beg, because her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Even if Li Heng had risen beyond recognition, as a daughter of the Chen family, she would never bend her knees to please him.

Seeing her persistent gloom, Zhou Mingwei mistakenly thought she was upset, and said gently:

“Go rest for a while. Remember to keep in touch with Shiyue—maybe one day a collaboration will come.”

Chen Xiaomi murmured a vague “Okay” and left.

Seeing her emerge from the office, Zhou Chunlan immediately stepped forward with a feigned concern:

“Xiaomi, you’re back? I heard you didn’t get ‘To Live’? So all that excitement was for nothing?”

Hearing this, Chen Xiaomi wanted to slap her—but with so many people watching, she held back.

She sighed: “‘To Live’ is written too well—‘Shouhuo’ offered royalty terms. I couldn’t do anything.”

The nearby Miss Liao asked in surprise: “What royalty terms? You don’t mean they pay a percentage based on print runs?”

Chen Xiaomi nodded: “Exactly that.”

The entire editorial department was stunned—including even the most senior editor, Uncle Dai.

Uncle Dai, who had seen much in his time, wiped his reading glasses and remarked: “If that’s true, the whole industry’s turning upside down. No wonder Xiao Chen came back empty-handed—no one could’ve done better.”

Chen Xiaomi glanced at Uncle Dai with gratitude.

…

Shanghai, ‘Shouhuo’ Magazine.

“Editor-in-Chief, here’s the proof copy for February. Please review.”

‘Shouhuo’ is a bimonthly; the proofreader brought the upcoming issue for the editor’s approval.

Editor-in-Chief Liao flipped through it casually, then set it aside: “There’s still time before publication. Wait a bit.”

The proofreader was baffled—wait? Didn’t they always finalize the layout by now?

Editor-in-Chief Liao sensed her subordinate’s confusion and explained: “Editor Zou just signed a new manuscript. The Master has high hopes for it. Come back tomorrow afternoon.”

Whose manuscript could possibly earn Master Ba’s personal endorsement? The proofreader was even more confused.

…

Evening self-study has three sessions.

The first two are math class, but Teacher Pan usually just walks around the classroom, then sits on the podium, letting students study or solve problems on their own.

He doesn’t care whether you’re reviewing math or another subject—as long as you’re studying.

Perhaps because many students in Class 204 once complained about his teaching style, Teacher Pan rarely initiates conversation with students—unless someone raises their hand to ask a question, then he leaves his seat.

He is extremely patient; no matter how difficult the problem, if a student doesn’t understand, he will teach it again and again, in different ways, calmly and steadily, spending an entire class period with you until you get it.

Because of this, Teacher Pan is still quite popular among the girls.

But boys rarely ask him questions—when they truly don’t understand, they usually turn to Liu Yejiang, Zou Ai, or Liu Li first; only if those three can’t help do they finally ask Li Heng.

It’s almost like a hierarchy…

They don’t bother him unless the problem is truly hard, afraid that if Li Heng solves it in seconds, they’ll feel embarrassed and worry about their self-confidence.

After the second evening session ended, Teacher Pan hadn’t left yet—he was still discussing a parabola problem with Chen Lijun.

As he taught, Teacher Pan suddenly turned to Li Heng: “Li Heng, take a look at this problem.”

Zhang Zhiyong had just brought over a pack of tofu skin with chili paste to torment him; Li Heng bit into half a piece, then took the scratch paper with his right hand and glanced at it.

He thought to himself: Should he pretend not to know, to spare the teacher’s face?

Or should he write out the solution?

Teacher Pan seemed to sense his hesitation and smiled gently: “Write down your method—let’s see how it differs from ours.”

Teacher Pan had no choice—no matter how he taught Chen Lijun, she still didn’t get it; now he wondered if his own solution method was too complicated.

Hearing this, Li Heng no longer held back—he drew two auxiliary lines and solved the problem in moments.

Teacher Pan took the paper, analyzed it carefully, then handed it to Chen Lijun: “This method is simpler than mine. Take a look.”

Chen Lijun studied the solution twice, then blushed and said: “Teacher, I think I finally understand.”

At that, many students nearby burst out laughing.

Seriously!

The teacher spent half a class trying and failing to teach it, yet after two glances at Li Heng’s solution, she instantly got it—this was a blatant slap in the face…

Fortunately, Teacher Pan had been humiliated so many times he was used to it—he didn’t care at all, picked up his book, and left the classroom smiling.

After the teacher left, Sun Manning directly asked Chen Lijun: “Why didn’t you just ask Li Heng this problem?”

Chen Lijun stared blankly upward, thinking for a moment, then smiled with sleepy eyes: “Back in second year, I asked him a question—he explained the whole solution in under a minute.

My brain couldn’t keep up, but I didn’t want to look stupid, so when he asked if I understood, I just nodded and said ‘yes, yes, yes’—and I never dared ask him another question since.”

Everyone found Chen Lijun’s naturally clueless, endearing charm hilarious—luckily, she wasn’t truly stupid; aside from math, she did well in all other subjects.

PS: The neighbor’s dog is too noisy—what to do?

(End of chapter)