Chapter 13: Time to Blow Up the Room

When Fang Xinghe was signing up at the reception desk, Li Qigang happened to be holding court there.

He had been writing something with his head lowered, but was startled awake by the wave upon wave of gasps from the young ladies at the hotel front desk.

The moment he looked up, that face full of divinity slammed unreasonably into his retinas, and Li Qigang immediately sucked in a sharp breath of Shaanxi cold noodles.

"Hiss…"

He somehow experienced the sensation of oil-splashed chili rushing into his nostrils—stinging at first, then a faint sheen of sweat on his nose tip, and finally his spirit lifted.

"Classmate, you're here for the New Concept Composition Competition too?"

"Yes."

Fang Xinghe glanced at the other party, and casually placed the registration documents on the desk.

At this moment, he had already entered a state of detachment.

I'm here to conquer all of this; I don't plan to befriend anyone.

So… all of you stand against the wall for me!

Li Qigang sensed the aloof, I-am-the-only-one-who-matters coldness radiating from the young man before him, and a sudden surge of intense anticipation welled up in his heart. He hurriedly checked the registration materials and was instantly overjoyed: "You're Fang Xinghe?"

"Yes, this is my ID card."

Just as expected, it should be like this!

Li Qigang sighed inwardly; those few articles were simply too perfect a match for the young man before him.

Even if he had seen the person first and then tried to guess which articles belonged to him, he would still have pinned "Youth" and "Sex" on this young man.

The reason for his shock was mainly that the handsome young man, already 175 centimeters tall, simply didn't look like he was 14.

Another member of the registration group, acting out of a sense of responsibility, pressed further: "You're not even 14 yet, so how do you have an ID card?"

"I'm an orphan. The civil affairs department helped me get one."

The moment Fang Xinghe's calm, indifferent voice came out, the front desk girls and the onlooking service staff let out a chorus of low exclamations, and the fan count on the panel instantly ticked up by 4.

And they all started as Level 2 core fans.

Works?

What's the need for works when you can fawn over a poor little boy with both looks and talent!

Simply letting maternal instinct run wild is more than enough.

Fang Xinghe didn't turn around, and lightly tapped the desk to remind the staff member who seemed to be wallowing in guilt: "Do I need to sign in? Where's my room?"

Truly capable people never need to deliberately play the pity card.

Because once your works conquer those around you, they'll take the initiative to learn about you, and spontaneously imagine just how miserably, bleakly, and heartbreakingly you lived during the days before they supported you.

"Oh, oh, alright, sign right here."

Li Qigang jolted awake from his reverie, then personally led Fang Xinghe to his room.

"Every contestant gets a single room, guaranteed to give you the best rest. Three meals a day are provided—remember to come downstairs on time…"

He clearly still wanted to chat more with Fang Xinghe, but Fang Xinghe coldly issued a dismissal.

"Thank you. If there's nothing else, I'd like to rest now."

"Oh, oh, alright, then get some good rest. If you need anything, go downstairs and find our staff…"

After Li Qigang went downstairs, he sat at the reception desk for a while longer, but simply couldn't sit still—his butt itched like crazy.

In the end, he hurried off and sprinted back to the Mengya editorial department.

The moment he walked in, he excitedly shouted: "Guess who I just saw?!"

The judges weren't all here; some were planning to come over on the 27th to oversee the competition, so only a sparse few were in the room.

"Who?"

"Guess!"

"Something that could get you this excited…" Chen Danya's eyes suddenly lit up. "Fang Xinghe is here?"

"Yes! It's him!"

Li Qigang gulped down more than half a cup of tea and let out a long, drawn-out sigh: "How handsome that kid actually is in person—you guys would absolutely never guess!"

The rigid, old-fashioned deputy editor-in-chief, Old Zhao, frowned: "It's a composition competition—we're testing writing ability. What's being handsome got to do with anything?"

"He can go viral!"

Li Qigang's reaction came naturally, his answer almost tumbling out on its own: "I wouldn't dare to say how he'll do in the semifinals, but the moment we put his photo out there, I guarantee every little girl in the whole country will go crazy!"

Old Zhao grew even more displeased, but the curious Chen Danya spoke up before he could.

"That exaggerated? With his level, winning an award is a piece of cake. If he can stack other advantages on top of that, your Mengya is really saved."

Wang Yali from the Writers Publishing House was thoroughly intrigued as well.

"Our initial plan on this end is to ride the wave of the New Concept Competition and see if we can dig out a few young writers who combine both substance and style, to bring some fresh energy to the stagnant literary scene. Qigang, do you think Fang Xinghe can do it?"

"It's not like you haven't read those few articles of his."

Li Qigang was brimming with confidence: "A full-length novel is hard to say, but when it comes to essays alone, he's more than capable of delivering a shock to the youth reader market."

"Mm, that's true."

Wang Yali shifted her tone: "So when should we go take a look at him?"

"Don't go." Li Qigang waved his hand. "This kid is wildly arrogant, his self-protective instincts are way too strong…"

Li Qigang rattled on and on, and Fang Xinghe gained another 5 fans.

Wang Yali and Chen Danya immediately couldn't sit still anymore, insisting on staking out the hotel, but not wanting to knock and disturb Fang Xinghe, so they waited in the restaurant.

So, when Fang Xinghe went downstairs for dinner, he discovered two aunties who kept glancing his way.

The ridiculously handsome guy didn't think much of it, because all women sneak peeks at him.

The power of 99 points in looks, after leaving the fixed territory of No. 3 Middle School, was blooming more and more obviously.

After dinner, he returned to his room and seized the time to grind through several more sets of test papers.

The semi-final exam held little importance in his heart; a guaranteed first prize was assured, the only difference being how far he could push his performance, whereas the high school entrance exam was far more troublesome.

With strength, one is simply this confident.

Over the next two days, he saw several other competitors who also came from out of town.

Everyone's expression upon seeing him was much the same—

wow~⊙o⊙

The succubus youth's expression always carried a hint of nonchalance, yet his posture was straight, his core perpetually tightened, and every movement was naturally carefree.

The slumped shoulders, hunched back, and timidity common among teenagers had never existed in Fang Xinghe.

And after practicing martial arts, his previously slightly sloppy demeanor had been reshaped; thus, the current Fang Dashuai was not only handsome but handsome with an imposing aura.

This directly resulted in him making no friends at all.

Other competitors often chatted with one another, but the moment they saw his figure, they immediately became very uncomfortable.

Occasionally heard fragments of conversation were girls saying, "He's so handsome," and boys saying, "He's so awesome."

Buddy, you know too much.

Fang Xinghe sometimes thought: Actually, I'm very easy to communicate with; one hook and we're connected.

However, in the end, he didn't even attempt to break the ice—time for solving problems was already stretched thin, so making friends could wait for now.

Besides, becoming friends with me would probably not be a fortunate thing.

Time flew, and it was the 27th.

The 135 competitors arrived early at an old building named Jingxin in Nanyang Model Middle School, dispersing into seven examination rooms to await the questions.

Fang Xinghe sat in the last row, casually spinning a fountain pen.

During the waiting period, as expected, he did not see Han Han.

At this moment, the great big brother was probably sporting a Chen Haonan-style middle-part long hairstyle, often shyly lowering his head, occasionally wearing glasses, but mostly not.

The young Han Shao was quite interesting; in any case, he was certainly far more interesting than director Han Han.

Not seeing the person, Fang Xinghe felt a tiny bit of regret, but at this moment, he was also scenery in others' eyes, so it wasn't boring.

Someone in front quietly turned to look at him, eyes darting away, with a very heavy sense of sneaking.

It's not necessary, Miss; if you want to look, just look openly.

Fang Xinghe suddenly raised an eyebrow at a certain lucky person, scaring her into jerking her head back; her knee seemed to hit the table leg, producing a dull thud.

That Miss, with tears welling in her eyes, slumped onto the desk...

Good, I'll write you into my book sooner or later.

The bad seed chuckled, signing the three large characters "Fang Xinghe" at the beginning of the manuscript paper; it was messy, casual, not very good-looking but stylish.

A sound of footsteps came from the corridor; a teacher with a lion's-head haircut walked in, holding an apple, showed it to everyone, and suddenly opened his mouth to take a big bite.

Placing the apple with a missing piece on the podium, the lion's-head teacher spoke with a smile.

"Students, this is the essay topic; you have a total of three hours for the exam, write whatever you like."

A slight commotion erupted in the classroom; the students were all somewhat panicked, feeling quite shocked.

Memories long dead suddenly began to attack Fang Xinghe; he remembered, the semi-final topic of the first New Concept Essay Competition was said to be very wicked, and this was how wicked it was.

Because the space for breaking the topic was too broad, establishing the theme became harder instead; writing something outstanding was indeed very difficult.

But the problem was not big, just so-so.

Fang Xinghe smiled and casually listed seven or eight outlines.