Chapter 35: How Can We Take Someone Else

In the 1980s, intellectual youths who loved literature were given the honorable title of “literary youth.”

Among them, there were genuine literary youths and fake ones.

The former truly loved literature, enjoying the freedom and joy of wandering through its ocean of ideas.

The latter were drawn to the various benefits literature brought—such as elevating their social status, or getting to bask in the admiring glances of beautiful female literary youths without spending a single penny,

even inventing crude phrases like “sex without shame.”

Teacher Ke was a genuine literary youth, with considerable literary skill, but the works she read were almost exclusively pure or serious literature.

Such literature demanded high writing standards, and its readership was correspondingly selective.

Some said this kind of literature was written by a small group for another small group—those who understood it found it increasingly profound, while those who didn’t found it dull and frustrating.

For example, how long would it take a primary school student to grasp the perfect atmosphere of “Moonlight Over the Lotus Pond” without a teacher’s explanation?

Popular novels, by contrast, were far more grounded—fifth-grade students could read “The Legend of the Condor Heroes” and understand it at a glance.

Internet literature took this one step further.

It no longer obsessed over elegant language, but focused on plot description, aiming to construct vivid scenes in the reader’s mind and ignite their desire to read.

That’s why, when Teacher Ke read Li Ye’s “Infiltration,” she was immediately drawn in by his fresh descriptive style.

Especially the first-stage climax: Yu Zecheng’s assassination of Li Haifeng.

【Li Haifeng reached out through the car window and tossed his pistol onto the ground, signaling his surrender........ He wanted to see who was ambushing him.】

【Li Haifeng saw Yu Zecheng emerge, pistol in hand, agile and alert, and asked in disbelief: “Just you?”】

Li Ye used rich, layered techniques to make Yu Zecheng’s solo act—using fear of death to force Li Haifeng to drop his weapon and step out of the car, helpless as fish on a slab—dramatic and gripping.

The detail of Yu Zecheng killing three traitors, then touching each of their necks to confirm they were dead, left Teacher Ke utterly captivated.

“The Legend of the Condor Heroes” had no such scenes—its characters were martial arts masters who could instantly tell if someone was alive or dead.

But “Infiltration” wasn’t like that—it depicted ordinary, living people.

Teacher Ke read page by page, unaware she had reached the final page until she suddenly snapped back to reality.

She checked the time—it was deep into the night.

【This novel........ seems useful........】

A sudden flash of insight struck Teacher Ke—she thought of a possibility.

Her thoughts rapidly expanded, her mind whirring.

She frowned, blushed, sighed, clenched her teeth—unconsciously, dawn arrived.

That night, after self-study, Teacher Ke invited Li Ye to her office.

Then she said to Wen Leyu: “Leyu, step out for a moment—I need to speak with Li Ye.”

Wen Leyu’s eyes widened instantly; she stared at her mother in silence.

Teacher Ke sighed softly. “I have some serious matters to discuss with Li Ye. Go out, close the door, and keep watch, okay?”

Wen Leyu glanced at her mother, confirmed she wasn’t about to pick a fight with Li Ye, then reluctantly left the office.

After Wen Leyu left, Teacher Ke chatted with Li Ye casually.

“Li Ye, I heard your grandfather was a veteran, and your father was once a honorable soldier, correct?”

“Yes, Teacher Ke. My family elders did fight in wars.”

“Then, have any of your family elders, or those you’ve known, worked in intelligence?”

“...........”

Li Ye looked at Teacher Ke and smiled. “No, they were all frontline combat soldiers. Why are you asking?”

Teacher Ke said: “Li Ye, yesterday I read your novel—it was brilliant....... but there are still some gaps.”

“Gaps?”

Li Ye was surprised—he hadn’t expected Teacher Ke to summon him late at night, shut the door mysteriously, just to discuss his novel.

“Yes, gaps,” Teacher Ke smoothed her hair and continued smoothly: “For instance, your depiction of Yu Zecheng’s identity isn’t clear enough....... and Zuo Lan’s portrayal is also vague.”

Listening to Teacher Ke’s “corrections,” Li Ye was momentarily stunned—because the gaps she pointed out were precisely the sensitive topics he had avoided to steer clear of trouble.

“Of course, it’s not your fault,” Teacher Ke said. “You’ve never interacted with professionals; if you rely purely on imagination, details will inevitably fall short.”

Li Ye replied humbly: “Yes, yes—I wrote this novel inspired by ‘Eighteen Years in the Enemy Camp,’ just daydreaming, writing for fun, hehehehe........”

“Eighteen Years in the Enemy Camp” was a spy drama that premiered in 1981 and became wildly popular—it was the excuse Li Ye had long prepared.

“Your ‘just for fun’ might make many professional authors feel ashamed.”

Teacher Ke paused, then finally said to Li Ye: “Actually, I can help you—help you fill in the gaps and oversights, and polish the rougher passages.”

“..........”

Li Ye was truly astonished.

Before coming, he had imagined all sorts of possibilities—like her scolding him for not continuing to selflessly provide the class with more novel, richer test questions.

Or that she’d use “I’m only doing this for your own good” to tell him to keep his distance from Wen Leyu and not entertain any improper thoughts.

But Li Ye never imagined Teacher Ke would offer to “improve” his novel.

Li Ye fell silent for several seconds, then slowly shook his head. “Teacher Ke, have you considered that if we follow your suggestions and add these details, the book might become too sensitive to publish?”

“..........”

Teacher Ke’s eyes narrowed instantly; she stared at Li Ye in disbelief, momentarily speechless.

Is he really just an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old boy? How could he know such subtle things?

Or perhaps this novel wasn’t written by him alone—was he guided by some master?

After weighing her words, Teacher Ke said: “I hadn’t thought of that. I assumed the current climate was favorable, so I didn’t consider that angle.”

Li Ye studied Teacher Ke closely and caught a flicker of shame and disappointment in her eyes.

He quickly analyzed her intentions in his mind, eliminating implausible possibilities.

When he combined her identity and current situation, he finally understood.

Li Ye immediately said: “Actually, I was just worrying needlessly. Your ideas still have real value—I’ll go back, think them over, and use them soon....... and I’ll list you as a co-author, okay?”

“..........”

Teacher Ke was truly stunned.

Li Ye’s earlier words had already surprised her; now his behavior struck straight at her heart.

【How did he guess my intentions? I never told Leyu!】

Teacher Ke couldn’t fathom how Li Ye had read her mind.

She’d only formed this idea after reading Wen Leyu’s manuscript last night—and told no one.

To call it coincidence or a random guess would be insulting.

Just look at his calm demeanor, his eyes utterly unlike his age—how could this be casual?

Novels aren’t academic papers—you can’t pile on dozens of co-authors after the first. Novels rarely have second or co-authors.

More importantly, she couldn’t even help him! Her supposed “gaps” were precisely what Li Ye didn’t need—and why should she take his benefit for free?

【What should I do? Accept? But wouldn’t that be too shameless?】

“Then...... alright. I’ll quickly gather some materials for you—see if they’re useful. As for co-authorship.......”

Teacher Ke remained hesitant, blushing, unable to say yes outright.

But how fast was Li Ye’s reaction?

He immediately stood up to leave: “Then I’ll head back, Teacher Ke. Send me the materials through Wen Leyu.”

Teacher Ke rose to see him off. “Oh, oh... alright!”

But as Li Ye reached the door, he paused for two seconds—waiting until the light, hurried footsteps outside had vanished—before opening the door and stepping out.

Twenty meters outside, Li Ye passed Wen Leyu.

The mute girl’s hands were twisted behind her back, her eyes flickering with obvious unease.

Li Ye smiled. “It’s fine. Go back—you’ve got class tomorrow.”

Wen Leyu glanced at Li Ye, then hurried back inside and confronted Teacher Ke.

“Mom, how could you do that? That novel is Li Ye’s heart and soul—how can we take his things?”

“.........”

Teacher Ke fell silent for a long time, then asked the stubborn, angry Wen Leyu: “Leyu, do you miss your father?”

“..........”

Wen Leyu froze as if struck by lightning, her slender frame trembling.

Teacher Ke asked again: “Leyu, do you miss your brother?”

Wen Leyu immediately lowered her head, hiding her tears.

The mother and daughter stood in silence. After a long while, Wen Leyu whispered: “In his last letter, Dad told me... he’s doing fine, and told you not to worry.......”

“But I know he’s not doing well—he writes on rough paper with a pencil.......”

“Ah~~”

Teacher Ke sighed softly and pulled her daughter close.

Couples in hardship always hide their suffering and only report good news.

The husband, far away, didn’t know his daughter had grown withdrawn and silent—he still hoped she could encourage his wife to stay strong and optimistic.

Teacher Ke whispered gently: “Leyu, you’re no longer a child—you should know some things now.

We need help, but those who can help us, those willing to help us... are growing fewer and fewer.”

Wen Leyu sniffled and asked: “But what does this have to do with Li Ye’s novel?”

Teacher Ke said: “It’s relevant—it gives us a reason to enter, to meet some people and say a few words.”

“A few words? Will they help?” Wen Leyu asked skeptically.

“They will!”

Teacher Ke answered with certainty, though in her heart, she wasn’t so sure.

But Teacher Ke understood well: right now, even a straw must be grasped with all one’s strength.