Chapter 149: Do Not Speak of State Affairs

In 1982, Peking University's library had no reading environment later deemed "light luxury," but during certain hours, seats were still hard to come by.

Students who got into Peking University were not only intelligent but also hardworking; only those extraordinary geniuses could freely express themselves.

Everyone else was swept up by the atmosphere and kept striving diligently.

Li Ye was special—he was a genius, but he pretended to be a diligent good student.

After night fell, Li Ye and Wen Leyu claimed two prime seats, sitting quietly across from each other, each absorbed in a book.

Li Ye was reading James Tobin's *National Economic Policy*.

This man had just won the Nobel Prize in Economics last year; today in class, Professor Zhang mentioned several of his economic works and quoted one of his core ideas—don't put all your eggs in one basket.

Li Ye found the phrase familiar, so he came to look it up, but only found this one book.

After reading for a long time, he could only say it was extremely difficult; his professional knowledge was still too limited—he understood textbook material at a glance, but with books like this, he still had to work hard.

Li Ye once wanted to give up, but he looked around at the Peking University students—wasn't every one of them frowning and gritting their teeth over their books?

In the end, even a genius had to match the diligence of his classmates and force himself to improve.

Wen Leyu, sitting across from Li Ye, had it much easier.

She was reading an English book; her English major required not just language study but also foreign literature, so the little girl had openly become an English enthusiast.

Although reading the original English was still tough, she had studied with Teacher Ke for a long time and, aside from occasionally flipping through a dictionary, handled it with ease, even sneaking in small distractions now and then.

She glanced at Li Ye and saw he was bent over his book, so she pressed one small hand flat on the table and crept forward like a stalking Tom Cat toward a lunchbox in the center of the desk.

The lunchbox contained snacks and fruit Li Ye had brought.

Since the cafeteria food was mediocre, Wen Leyu's appetite had recently declined, so Li Ye, devoted to "scientific feeding," had devised a strict diet plan for her.

Low-fat, low-sugar, high-nutrition—but the little girl had a bone-deep obsession with sweets.

So every time Li Ye brought snacks, she would quietly eat all the sweetest ones, leave the less sweet half for him, then generously push it toward him: "Eat, eat—I've had enough."

Wen Leyu wasn't deliberately greedy; given her current situation and Teacher Ke's indulgent affection, what couldn't she eat if she wanted it?

She had simply, since last winter, unconsciously grown accustomed to Li Ye's "feeding"—perhaps due to psychological effects, she always felt the taste was different when she ate food he gave her.

Li Ye kept his head down reading, but his eyes flickered upward, clearly watching Wen Leyu's actions.

Honestly, these snacks were already meant for her; the little girl was truly starting to develop—she couldn't be shortchanged, and she couldn't grow up unhealthy!

"Li Ye, Li Ye, I've finally found you."

Li Huai, a senior from the 1980 class of Ancient Literature, hurried over, startling Wen Leyu just as she'd "scored."

Her few grapes had just entered her mouth, not yet chewed or spit out—the bulge in her cheeks made her look like a hamster.

She couldn't let Li Ye see—she swallowed them fast, choking badly.

The little girl was annoyed, glaring at the clumsy Li Huai; she had no patience for this third-year senior.

Didn't he know she was studying at night? Didn't he know she was enjoying her private time?

Annoying.

But Li Huai noticed none of her displeasure—he walked to Li Ye's side and slapped the shoulder of a freshman beside him.

"Classmate, mind moving over? I need to talk urgently with this brother."

The freshman, a first-year, saw Li Huai's senior demeanor and, intimidated, quietly vacated his seat.

Li Ye looked at the impatient Li Huai and asked with amusement: "You're in such a rush to find me—did something good happen?"

"You're right, little brother—it really is good news."

Li Huai pulled out two magazines, flipped to a page, and proudly placed it before Li Ye.

"I found an excellent one—read it, and you'll understand why I came rushing over."

Li Ye looked down and his expression turned strange.

Wen Leyu also leaned forward, stretching her little head over to look, then her lips curved upward.

They were two issues of *Xinfeng*, a monthly magazine under Island City Lanhai Publishing—Li Ye knew them well.

The page Li Huai had opened was the first chapter of *Shuofeng Feiyang*—"The Xiliang Army."

Li Ye stammered: "You rushed over just to make me read this?"

"Tsk~"

Li Huai tsked and said: "Just read it first! This novel perfectly matches all the viewpoints you discussed with us—it promotes our Shenzhou's historical culture."

Isn't that obvious? I wrote it.

When Li Ye chatted with Li Huai, Yang Yumin, and others, he naturally voiced the same opinions he'd once shared with Dong Jinbu.

After all, among them were students of ancient literature and even one studying history—they understood Shenzhou's deep heritage more thoroughly.

Because of this, Li Huai, Yang Yumin, and others saw Li Ye as "little brother."

And Li Ye, unintentionally, had fed them some historical writing techniques during their talks.

Explaining xianxia to them was exhausting!

Although there had been authors like Huanzhu Louzhu in the Republic era, if Li Ye had to explain qi cultivation, foundation establishment, and "women three thousand years older" from scratch, arguments might break out.

Peking University's debate culture wasn't great—once arguments started, friendships could turn to enmity.

"Look, look—finish reading, then I'll tell you more," Li Huai kept urging Li Ye.

"Senior Huai, I've read *Shuofeng Feiyang*—it's decent, but not as extraordinary as you say."

Li Ye could only humble himself; boasting wasn't his nature.

But Li Huai clearly froze—after a few seconds, his excitement turned to displeasure.

"Little brother, if you've read it, why didn't you share it with us?"

Li Ye had to explain: "Aren't you guys writing wuxia? *Shuofeng Feiyang* isn't the same style, is it?"

"Ah, you—you—"

Li Huai grew agitated again: "You're still too young—you don't see the essence. Works grounded in historical knowledge? That's our strength!"

Li Huai swept his arm across the Peking University library.

"Here, we have the nation's richest, finest historical archives, countless professors and students researching history—if we write in this genre, we'll better promote Shenzhou's historical grandeur."

Although Li Ye couldn't fully agree, he admitted the point had merit.

As one of the nation's top-ranked comprehensive libraries, Peking University's collection was a real advantage for students—using it to support a historical novel was like using a cannon to swat a fly.

"You two, stop shouting—if you keep it up, you'll be kicked out!"

A sharp command silenced the excited Li Huai instantly—he had no retort.

The library staff's reputation at Peking University was no joke.

Li Huai grabbed Li Ye's arm: "Come on, let's go outside—we must talk all night.

I think your writing techniques resemble that 'seven-inch blade' thing you mentioned; though it's still immature compared to the original, we can learn from each other, complement each other."

Li Ye couldn't resist Li Huai's pulling and had to follow him.

What could he do? Li Huai was already a third-year student, about to graduate and be assigned a post—ten years from now, he might be a minor big shot. Better not provoke him.

As they left, Li Ye told Wen Leyu: "I'll go chat with them for a bit—I'll come back and pick you up."

Wen Leyu smiled and nodded, extending one curled finger, succinctly saying: "Nine."

"Alright, I'll pick you up at nine."

Li Ye and Wen Leyu were now in the early stage of romance—secretly holding hands, occasionally dancing together, shy and entangled; the feeling was far more thrilling than that of an old married couple—just a casual brush of fingers could make hearts flutter and cheeks flush.

So nine to nine-thirty was their fixed time for strolling; unless there was something urgent, no one dared interrupt their quiet affection.

After Li Ye and Li Huai left, the cool, composed Wen Leyu narrowed her eyes and silently laughed—her laughter grew stronger, though soundless, like a cat high on catnip, utterly adorable.

Eventually, her small body swayed in the chair, rocking back and forth like a rocking chair.

"I'm dying laughing—'immature'? I'm dying laughing."

Li Huai dragged Li Ye to their third-year activity room, where Yang Yumin and the others were already busy.

A large stack of history books lay on the table—some were researching, others outlining; their excitement was like pirates frantically loading food and supplies onto the Black Pearl, preparing to sail for treasure.

Seeing Li Ye arrive, Yang Yumin happily said: "Little brother's here! Welcome to our writing group—now that you've joined, we'll definitely hit it big and earn royalties."

"Royalties? What royalties?" Li Huai scowled. "It's about promoting Shenzhou culture, showcasing our great nation's historical depth."

"Same thing, same thing."

Seeing Yang Yumin embarrassed, Li Ye joked: "Any great literary work carries inherent economic value—once its literary merit is recognized, economic value naturally follows."

"Hey, look at this economics student—sharp mind! Unlike you, Li Huai, so lofty like an old Confucian scholar."

"Shoo, shoo," Li Huai dismissed him. "Li Ye has already read *Shuofeng Feiyang*. Everyone, come analyze—what historical period should we write about?"

Everyone gathered, voicing their opinions.

"I think the Qin Dynasty—unification of the realm."

"I say the Han Dynasty—'Whoever dares defy the Han, no matter how far, must be punished'—just hearing that gives you chills."

Everyone had their reasons and insights.

Finally, it was Li Ye's turn.

Li Ye thought a moment and said: "I think we should write about the Tang Dynasty. Since everyone leans toward popular literature, we must consider the audience—how many readers enjoy this kind of story?

*Shuofeng Feiyang* has already proven the Tang Western Regions setting works; the time span is vast—we could write about the Tang's isolated western garrison."

Li Ye analyzed it from a commercial literature perspective; everyone was deeply inspired.

"Little brother, you're really good! Perfect, perfect!"

Yang Yumin nodded repeatedly: "Li Ye, you're truly from economics—we never thought of problems this way. We've learned a lot."

Li Ye continued: "Shenzhou has five thousand years of history—countless stories to tell. But why has *Shuofeng Feiyang* received so much praise?"

"It's the indomitable spirit," Li Ye said, slightly moved himself: "Even amid internal strife and external threats, Tang warriors never feared their enemies—

Facing strength with weakness, even unto death, we do not regret—don't you feel these resonate with reality? After reading, don't you feel a sense of resonance?

Li Huai, Yang Yu, and others all froze, and upon careful thought, realized it was indeed true.

For decades, has Shenzhou not faced internal strife and external threats? Has it not been utterly fearless?

To gain reader approval, literary works require writing technique as a foundation, but ideological resonance is equally vital.

Otherwise, why did Scar Literature dominate during this period?

Seeing the others visibly moved, Li Ye threw out a few more words.

"After the Tang army's lone force was cut off from Changancheng, it still raised the Tang banner in the Western Regions for decades—you can find historical evidence of this."

"Moreover, you can end this story with the Tang troops defeated and assimilated into the Western Regions, or with the lone Tang army marching a thousand li home, returning to Changancheng."

Li Huai and the others fell into deep thought, considering the feasibility of Li Ye's suggestion.

But Yang Yu suddenly looked up and asked Li Ye: "Li Ye, are you suggesting an allegory of those returning from across the sea?"

Li Ye quickly laughed and waved his hands: "I didn't say that! No discussion of state affairs, no discussion of state affairs—I'm just a small man, don't drag me into it."

"."

Li Huai and the others stared at Li Ye in prolonged silence.

Finally, Yang Yu insisted: "Write this topic. Li Ye, you must be credited."

"Yes, let's co-create it—include little brother."

"What do you mean 'include'? Little brother's got real grit!"

"."

Li Ye was utterly taken aback, stunned and astonished.

Have my Seven-Inch Blade sign my name? That's essentially endorsing you outright!

(End of Chapter)