Chapter 17: Knowing but Not Obeying: My Fate Should Be Mine, Not Heaven's [Thanks to New Alliance TEMPEST]

The long article of over 2,000 characters was read straight through without a single interruption.

But as soon as the final syllable fell, the room was immediately drowned in chaos.

The New Concept Composition differs from science competitions; there is no fixed standard, so whether an article is good or unworthy of an award depends entirely on the judges arguing based on reason—in other words, arguing.

This was not the first time the meeting room had erupted in shouting, nor was it the first time they had quarreled, but this time it was exceptionally fierce.

Yu Hua rushed to Teacher Cao's side immediately: "Give me the manuscript. What kind of Mandarin is that vague Beijing accent? Let me take another careful look."

Cao Wenxuan's face dropped, and he shoved the manuscript into Su Tong's hand.

Su Tong grinned, took the manuscript, then twisted away from Yu Hua: "You wouldn't know how to read a damn thing, wait!"

Han Shaogong watched them make a scene, shaking his head with a sigh: "This is not a middle school student's composition."

Fudan University supervisor Chen Sihe interjected humorously: "Nor is it a university student's composition; I know best what level my students are at."

Zhao Changtian sighed: "One 'Youth', one 'Second-Round Apple', they share the same lineage, simply writing out the wildness and rebellion of adolescents to the fullest..."

"That is not merely rebellion."

Ye Zhaoyan immediately objected: "That is an echo formed by pressure from family and society on many fronts! Starting from the child's perspective, everything is real; I even feel he is depicting a universal phenomenon."

"Yes, this is absolutely not whining; it is very real, very heavy."

Teacher Tie Ning's expression was solemn, even beginning to reflect on herself: "My son is in puberty; I feel my education of him has not been attentive or respectful enough, often being too rough, so he frequently opposes me. Now, seeing Fang's article, I am truly deeply moved."

The female writers suddenly had a thousand words, one sentence following another.

"Children nowadays are indeed hard to manage; you can criticize them, but you must have a clear and correct reason. If you criticize just for the sake of criticizing, the situation in the text will surely arise."

"Mine is even more worrying; he doesn't resist, but he doesn't communicate either, telling us nothing. It's exhausting!"

"That goes without saying; you surely hurt his self-esteem at some point without noticing and then ignored it."

"Actually, we had self-esteem back then too. When I was young, I was beaten severely for lying, but I truly hadn't lied; they just wouldn't listen to my explanation. Decades have passed, yet only that one thing in my childhood remains vivid in my memory..."

"Childhood deprivation; how did Fang Xinghe's mind grow? The summary is excellent."

"Sigh, educating children is too hard; we really must pay attention in the future, or you might raise them crooked without even knowing how they went crooked."

Lao Zhao frowned tightly, very displeased: "This is too alarmist! Does hitting a child once completely kill their spirituality? Wasn't every one of us raised under our parents' sticks? The article is good, very provocative, but this child is too extreme, too utilitarian!"

"Stop, stop, stop, don't escalate to the author himself."

Chairman Wang Meng controlled the situation, preventing several older editors from continuing to exploit the topic.

He commented: "Although there is indeed a bit of extremism inciting confrontation and encouraging revenge, what we want for New Concept is exactly this kind of real, natural, and vivid reaction. Seeing this article, I am personally very, very happy."

Ye Xin immediately agreed: "Cai Yuanpei proposed that literature must possess the functions of humanity and aesthetics, capable of shaping the human soul, cultivating the human spirit, and nurturing humanistic sentiments."

"Fang Xinghe's small exam essay actually achieved all of this; I believe this is a very remarkable feat, and he is also a very remarkable youth."

Lao Xing pursed his lips, insisting: "I don't like it; this kind of article will corrupt adolescents."

Li Qigang immediately smoothed things over and changed the subject: "This child is truly strange; how did he even read 'Baopuzi'? Has anyone of you seen that thing?"

A burst of light laughter immediately filled the room, and everyone shook their heads in turn.

"I haven't."

"I haven't either."

"I'm the worst; I don't even know who Wen Kang is."

"Hahahaha!"

"Alright, let's talk business; who wants to write a review of his article?"

"Me, me, me!"

"I'll do it, it must be me!"

When Wang Yali and the other two returned to the office, they saw exactly this scene.

A group of great writers and professors were crowded together, shouting and making a scene, with no one yielding to another.

"What is going on?"

Tie Ning looked helplessly: "They are all fighting to review Xiao Fang's composition... look at Yu Hua!"

Yu Hua was pulling on Su Tong's arm, acting shamelessly, while Su Tong refused to let go no matter what, holding Fang Xinghe's manuscript high and scolding: "Have you ever written a preface for someone? Do you know what a review is? Let go, let go, let me go first!"

Wang Yali and Chen Danya had not yet seen Fang Xinghe's second-round work; seeing this, they could not help but look at each other in silence.

"Is it that good?"

"It will only be better than you imagine."

Wang Yali and the three of them became even more eager, but they simply could not squeeze in, so they had to ask for details to satisfy their curiosity.

"So, what exactly did he write?"

Tie Ning casually handed over the draft paper before transcription; the very first glance Chen Danya cast downward revealed a magnificent momentum that was naturally formed and rushed to the face—

"Knowing but Not Obeying: My Fate Should Be Mine, Not Heaven's—Thoughts on a Bitten Apple"

"Hiss..."

Chen Danya sucked in a sharp breath, her whole body going numb with tingling.

The next morning, Fang Xinghe received the notification he had expected.

He won the award; go to the hotel conference room this afternoon to collect it.

First Prize in Group B, easily.

He smoothed his clothes in front of the mirror, carefully buttoning the collar of his Zhongshan suit to reveal only the edge of the white shirt underneath, then used hair wax to style his hair, instantly becoming handsome like a red lightning bolt.

But the scheming boy still felt the impact wasn't wild enough, so he put on the carefully selected pure silver earring in his left ear.

Putting it on, he cursed: "Damn 'Young and Dangerous', how many kids have you corrupted!"

Thank goodness for that small place, Nong'an; there were only shops for piercing ears, no good tattoo shops, otherwise, with Xiao Fang's wild spirit back then, he would surely have invited the Green Dragon and White Tiger onto his body long ago.

One can only say, very lucky.

Compared to tattoos, getting ear piercings really is just a small thing.

Actually, Fang Xinghe himself didn't like wearing jewelry, but liking something is one thing, work is another—taking responsibility for one's image is a star's professional ethics.

Since he'd decided to walk the star path, there was no need to be coy about it; everything served the goal of attracting fans.

So, grumbling and cursing, he ran all over every jewelry store in the county, carefully and calmly picking out quite a few matching sets.

This is what you call professionalism.

Placed in that later era of aesthetic pluralism, earrings as an important styling element could still eat up a big chunk of exclusive preference; placed in the present, the impact would only be stronger.

After all, at this time, the greatest rebellion of young people still stayed at the level of Chen Haonan hairstyles, cross necklaces, and bell-bottoms—not even as good as the next generation's non-mainstream style.

And Boss Fang was at the level three levels below that.

When he finally finished getting ready and went out, he happened to run into the girl from the room opposite; the young Miss looked up, her face instantly flushed red, immediately lowered her head, then stuck close to the wall as she walked forward, fleeing as if escaping.

Heh heh, what a lovely era~~~

Obviously, the effect was indeed outstanding.

The King of Showing Off raised his chin and walked toward the conference room in a wonderful mood.

Along the way, no matter who saw him, they had to gasp in a breath of cold noodles—the Xi'an yearly output was wiped clean by them in just a few short minutes, followed by all kinds of whispering.

"He's so handsome!"

Too routine.

"He really doesn't look like a good person…"

You know too much.

"Look, that's Fang Xinghe!"

Huh? Has his name already spread that far?

"Oh my, when we go up to receive the award later, absolutely don't stand next to him—I can't take it."

Heh heh, we're all bros, why must men torment men?

Fang Xinghe turned his head to glance at the bros muttering among themselves, and decided that if there was a choice later, he'd stand right next to them for the photo.

This isn't torment, this is tempering~

When he arrived at the conference room on the second floor, banners had already been hung inside and the venue was all set up.

The staff bustled about, each of the judges attended to their own duties, and the only two reporters with handheld cameras were both beside Chen Danya.

The moment Fang Xinghe walked in, the female judges—Wang Yali, Chen Danya, Yuan Min, and others—had their eyes light up.

But there were also a few older male judges who furrowed their brows.

This is what you call gains and losses; being flashy can draw more attention, but what follows is more criticism.

But overall, the vast majority of judges were quite warm toward him; many people smiled and nodded as soon as they saw him, very kindly.

The award ceremony was nothing worth mentioning; first prizes were handed out generously, a group of people held up their certificates and lined up in two or three rows beneath the banner, waiting for the reporters to take photos.

Fang Xinghe "passively" ended up standing right in the middle.

He hadn't fought for the C-position, but the photographer specially directed traffic: "Student Su, could you please move toward the middle!"

OK, cooperating.

Then when he walked to the middle, the two bros beside him, faces full of terror, shuffled hard toward the sides—little steps, one, two, like the devil's footsteps~~~

Click click click.

Accompanied by a burst of shutter sounds, the image froze.