Chapter 225: I Don

"Is that the contest with prizes? I know about that—it's basically impossible; our native language isn't English, so we can't compete with professional writers."

Before Lu Jingyao could speak, Yang Liqin interrupted her fantasy as soon as she saw the newspaper handed over by the Chinese restaurant owner.

But Boss Zhao smiled and said, "In the past! This prize contest only accepted translated submissions, so us Easterners really had no chance."

"But this time they added a prize for outstanding commentary—ten thousand U. . dollars. You can calculate how much that is in pounds now."

"I remember your foreign language department doesn't just teach language and grammar—you also study foreign literature and arts, right?"

"So you should be able to read English, and naturally, you can write commentary too? What if you get lucky?"

After hearing Boss Zhao's words, Yang Liqin immediately became interested. As soon as Lu Jingyao finished reading the newspaper, she snatched it and examined it closely.

Before coming to Britain, she hadn't been in the English department, but she'd been here two years and had built up some English foundation—she certainly wasn't going to let this "get-rich-overnight" opportunity slip away.

Ten thousand U. . dollars!

Over the past few years, the pound had been steadily depreciating against the dollar; this year, ten thousand U. . dollars could already be exchanged for over six thousand pounds.

What did six thousand pounds mean?

Yang Liqin, a "senior waitress," earned barely over a hundred pounds a month; as students in such a narrow job market, even working until graduation wouldn't let her save two thousand pounds.

Earning money and saving money aren't directly equivalent—ten years to earn ten thousand is completely different from three years to earn ten thousand.

If you suddenly earned six thousand pounds, wouldn't that be all saved up?

With that six thousand pounds suddenly in hand, all the things Yang Liqin had only ever dreamed of could now become reality.

At that moment, a voice sounded in Yang Liqin's ear: "Brother Zhao, if the commentary prize is ten thousand U. . dollars, how much is the submission prize?"

Boss Zhao smiled and said, "The submission prize is thirty thousand U. . dollars—and if you win that, publishing houses will definitely notice you and sign a translation contract; altogether, it's not less than a hundred thousand U. . dollars!"

"A hundred thousand U. . dollars? Writing can earn that much?"

Lu Jingyao was stunned.

The rumor that Li Ye had earned nearly ten thousand yuan in royalties for "Infiltration" had spread like wildfire in Qingshui County; back then, she'd found it unbelievable.

How could money possibly be that easy to earn?

After arriving in Britain and receiving a hundred-pound salary, she'd thought Li Ye's so-called writer status was overrated—she herself could earn thousands of yuan a month.

But now she realized her horizons had been too narrow.

Seeing Lu Jingyao clearly tempted, the kind-hearted Boss Zhao pulled out a manuscript.

"Here, this is the original translation manuscript I got from London—I thought maybe I could get rich! But I couldn't even understand it. If you're interested, give it a try!"

"Alright, thank you, Brother Zhao."

Lu Jingyao gripped the manuscript tightly in her hands, as if she weren't holding a stack of paper but a thick stack of banknotes.

Yang Liqin smiled faintly without speaking; she didn't want to crush her fellow villager's hopes, because when she first arrived in Britain, she too had been dazzled by every "get-rich-overnight" opportunity, full of fantasies.

Only after fully understanding this "civilized" society did Yang Liqin realize that some doors had never opened for people like them.

Even those doors that had cracked open a sliver required them to exert more effort than they had for the college entrance exam, crushing countless competitors just to squeeze through.

One could say, to rise above in a foreign land, every step forward felt like fighting a war—your enemies were never just a few, but dozens, hundreds, even more.

At eleven o'clock, the Chinese restaurant closed.

Yang Liqin and Lu Jingyao walked together; since they had a bicycle today, they saved the bus fare and cycled back to school along the well-lit street.

Lu Jingyao stayed silent the whole way, so Yang Liqin, sitting on the backseat, smiled and asked, "What's wrong, Jingyao? Missing home? Or missing money?"

"Huh? No no, I just got here—how could I miss home?"

Lu Jingyao's handlebars wobbled slightly as she quickly changed the subject: "Sister Liqin, you can go home next year, right? Then you'll be able to build a house for your family and get assigned to a good unit—you'll finally have made it."

"I'm not going back," Yang Liqin said firmly. "I'll fight to stay here for further study."

"You're not going back?" Lu Jingyao exclaimed. "But I heard the slots for further study are extremely limited—it's really hard to get one."

"You've just arrived—you'll gradually understand later," Yang Liqin smiled. "Jingyao, for people like us without power or connections, this might be the only chance in our lives to change our fate."

"Grab it, hold onto it tightly, and only then can you truly realize your life's value."

"Oh~~"

Lu Jingyao replied, but she felt Yang Liqin's answer carried hidden meaning.

Back at school, after cycling all the way, Lu Jingyao felt she was about to collapse from exhaustion.

But once she lay on the bed, she couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning.

So she simply took out the stack of manuscripts and read them under the corridor light.

Her two roommates were unfriendly—if she turned on the light inside the dorm, she'd likely face a harsh scolding.

Opening the manuscript requiring secondary translation, Lu Jingyao immediately sighed in relief—she could understand it.

And as she read on, she began to feel a strange sense of familiarity.

Since arriving in Britain, the thing she'd found hardest to adapt to was her "unfamiliarity" with English.

As an excellent English major, when conversing with locals, she always felt a barrier; reading local English newspapers, she encountered many "unrigorous" grammatical phrasings.

Later, she realized the English she'd learned wasn't authentic enough.

But this manuscript, with its thirty-thousand-dollar prize, why did it feel so "Zhonghua-flavored"?

"Could this be written by someone from Zhonghua?"

"Impossible, absolutely impossible! Foreign exchange is so tight—how could someone from Zhonghua offer a thirty-thousand-dollar prize?"

………………

After finishing dinner with Wen Leyu at Zaojunmiao, Li Ye had just returned to school when his younger brother Sun Xianjin hurried over.

"Li Ye, come on, hurry up! Li Huai is calling you to split the royalties!"

Seeing Sun Xianjin's frantic state, Li Ye couldn't help smiling.

"Splitting royalties is splitting royalties—it's not the first time. Why the rush?"

"What's the big deal? Are you eager to treat yourself to a good meal on royalty day? You don't even need to wait for royalties—if you want to eat, I'll treat you anytime!"

"No, no, it's different this time—this time we're splitting foreign exchange."

"Huh~! Blue Sea Publishing finally showed some generosity!"

Li Ye was also surprised, because the royalties for "The Lonely Garrison of the Distant Homeland" were paid by Blue Sea Publishing; the quarterly reprint royalties from Hong Kong's Treading Waves were calculated in U. . dollars and had nothing to do with the Lonely Garrison Literary Society—they were always converted into RMB.

Originally, Li Ye had thought Beijing University's prestige, with support from the Youth League Committee, might secure them a portion of U. . dollars. But in reality, foreign exchange was king—after months of effort, nothing came of it.

Yet today, they suddenly showed kindness and sent over foreign exchange?

"Not from Blue Sea—apparently it's this new guy, Du Yuan, who found the connection. He says they sold the manga adaptation rights."

"Manga adaptation rights?" Li Ye asked, puzzled. "Aren't those rights already sold to Blue Sea?"

"No no, you'll find out when you get there."

Li Ye and Sun Xianjin arrived at the Lonely Garrison Literary Society's activity room; most members were already there, and someone from the Youth League Committee had also come.

As soon as they entered, someone shouted loudly: "Li Ye, what have you been doing all day? Why can't we ever find you? Just busy with love affairs? If you keep this up, you won't get any share anymore!"

Why did that sound so awkward?

"You're that guy… Du… Du Yuan, right?"

Li Ye furrowed his brow, took a long moment to "remember" the name, then apologized: "Sorry, sorry—you only joined the society this month, I didn't catch your name."

"How can you say that about me? We're supposed to focus on professional studies anyway. Besides, I came twice last week and three times the week before that."

"."

The lively room fell silent. Everyone glanced oddly, then several veteran members pressed their lips to suppress laughter.

Although Li Ye wasn't as senior as founders like Li Huai or Yang Yu, he was unquestionably a core pillar of the Lonely Garrison Literary Society.

You, a new member who's been here less than a month, say "you won't get any share"? It sounded like a boss scolding a subordinate.

Li Ye wasn't petty, but in his past life, in his workplace, he'd experienced similar situations—if you were always ordered around yet remained polite and accommodating, others would forever see you as "subordinate material."

More importantly, in front of the Youth League Committee, you accuse me of "dating"? Don't you know the school discourages romantic relationships?

Du Yuan visibly froze. Nearby, Yang Yu quickly stepped in: "Li Ye, you've been busy studying your works, so naturally you haven't noticed Du Yuan—he comes almost every day. You two should get to know each other better, learn from each other."

"Hahaha, definitely, definitely."

Li Ye smiled and sat down on a stool, waiting for the royalties.

Even a fly's share is still meat—the happiest day for any worker is payday.

The royalties were distributed. Li Ye received twenty-five yuan in RMB and several Japanese yen.

Two notes of two thousand yen each, one of one thousand yen—according to 1983 exchange rates, roughly twenty-one to twenty-two U. . dollars.

"Our success in earning foreign exchange this time is entirely thanks to Comrade Du Yuan—he spotted an opportunity we'd overlooked, actively sought partners, and successfully sold the manga adaptation rights for 'The Lonely Garrison of the Distant Homeland.'"

"To encourage everyone's long-term hard work in writing, we've allocated a portion of the foreign exchange as a reward—please applaud!"

"Applause~"

Everyone clapped. Du Yuan bowed slightly with a smile in thanks.

After the applause ended, Li Ye asked: "May I ask, who bought the manga adaptation rights? Did the contract specify the scope and limitations of adaptation?"

"."

The room fell silent again. No one understood the second half of Li Ye's question.

The Youth League representative asked: "Li Ye, what do you mean by 'scope and limitations of adaptation'?"

Li Ye replied bluntly: "It means defining the boundaries of adaptation—for example, our story clearly celebrates the Tang Dynasty's distant garrison's longing for home and their indomitable fighting spirit."

"But when they adapt it, will they distort the facts? Turn the tragic theme into something pitiful or ridiculous?"

"Or even add characters not in the original—like replacing the leader who led the garrison on a thousand-mile journey home with a Japanese envoy sent to study in Tang?"

"."

Everyone froze. No one had ever considered this possibility—they'd only imagined turning it into a picture book.

Du Yuan couldn't help saying: "Li Ye, you're exaggerating. Don't link normal literary exchange with other complicated factors."

Li Ye glanced at him and said, "Whether this is alarmist nonsense can be judged by professionals, but the adaptation contract must stipulate that neither the plot nor the characters may be altered,

and the final draft cannot be published until it has been reviewed and approved by us."

"Some people haven't even apologized for the invasion war decades ago! Do you expect them to respect the original?"

"."

"You're joking—someone paid fifty million yen for the rights, why should they still listen to us?"

"How much? Only fifty million yen? Are you selling sweet potatoes?"

Li Ye jumped to his feet.

Fifty million yen was barely two thousand U. . dollars—over a dozen people spent a year researching and developing the plot, and all they got was two thousand dollars?

"Alright, we'll take this matter seriously. Right now, everyone, collect the money first."

The yen they had just received was being taken back, but no one felt reluctance—they handed it back as if it were a hot potato.

"Now let's discuss the next issue: Li Huai and Yang Yu's internship placements have been finalized.

Starting next semester, they'll need to balance study and work, so the burden on the Literature Society must be reduced.

Therefore, we will hold a public election soon to select a new head of the Literature Society—who among you is willing to take on this responsibility?"

After he finished speaking, the activity room fell silent for a moment, then several hands rose.

Bian Jingjing raised her hand. Du Yuan raised his hand too.

Li Ye, who always disliked trouble, finally raised his hand.

Li Huai looked at Li Ye in delight, his face beaming with satisfaction.

After everyone dispersed, Li Huai, Yang Yu, and others surrounded Li Ye, teasing and laughing: "We thought you were a transcendent immortal untouched by the mortal world! So, you've finally grown some backbone?"

Li Ye smiled: "You two are the immortals—when you were around, why would I need to lift a finger? But now you've ascended to enlightenment, so I'll just suffer through it."

Li Huai clapped Li Ye on the shoulder and lowered his voice: "You've got to take this election seriously—several others are eyeing this position."

"Don't worry," Li Ye said coolly. "If I decide to compete, no one can match me."

Of course, Li Ye didn't voice the next sentence.

【I really don't want to leave my mountain retreat~ but I'm afraid you'll be led astray~】

(End of Chapter)