Chapter 36: How Could I Possibly Accept This?

The next morning, Wen Leyu arrived at class with red eyes and handed Li Ye a batch of materials that Teacher Ke had compiled overnight.

Li Ye carefully read through them, selecting several less sensitive passages to incorporate into his novel manuscript.

Beside him, Wen Leyu’s face darkened as she saw Li Ye merely marking a few lines with his pen.

Yesterday, she had overheard Li Ye’s conversation with Teacher Ke and knew he was unwilling to accept too much sensitive content—Teacher Ke’s well-intentioned gesture might only drag Li Ye down.

So, as was her habit, she nudged Li Ye with her elbow and whispered, “If you think they’re useless, forget it...”

“Why forget it?” Li Ye looked at Wen Leyu in surprise. “These are extremely useful! The hardest part of writing a novel is perfecting it.”

“It’s like an exam—we already scored ninety-five, but those last five points are the hardest. Teacher Ke is now helping us make up those final five points.”

“........”

Wen Leyu stared at Li Ye, her big eyes blinking like tiny stars, until finally she calmed down.

【It seems Mom’s help really was useful........】

Compared to Wen Leyu’s sluggish reaction, Li Ye’s thoughts were crystal clear.

After Teacher Ke did not reject his proposal to be a co-author, Li Ye knew exactly what Teacher Ke needed.

Or rather, the only thing Teacher Ke needed was this one thing he had.

Neither Teacher Ke nor Wen Leyu were locals; after arriving in Qinghe County years ago, they had remained trapped in terrible conditions.

Several years ago, the large-scale return-to-city movement began, and many who had been sent down to reflect on hardship and deepen their studies managed to escape this plight.

Like Li Ye’s father and grandfather.

But Li Ye’s father and grandfather had already been working for one or two years, while Teacher Ke and Wen Leyu remained stuck in Qingshui County.

So their path back to the city must have encountered serious obstacles.

One radish, one pit—if you want to go back, someone else must not want you to.

Li Ye had always paid close attention to Wen Leyu and Teacher Ke—they were clearly strong, proud women. If they weren’t truly desperate, Teacher Ke would never lower her dignity to take advantage of a child like Li Ye.

As for the value of being a best-selling novelist, Li Ye understood it well enough.

These days, “gift-giving” had become trendy, but many doors couldn’t be opened with cigarettes and alcohol alone.

But if you showed up under the guise of “literary consultation,” or indirectly mailed a novel to some door, stating, “Please advise—does this resemble your experience?”—perhaps you could pry open a sliver of hope.

For someone like Teacher Ke, that single sliver of hope might become the turning point.

That’s why Teacher Ke had reluctantly turned to Li Ye, hesitating endlessly to take advantage of his goodwill.

But they didn’t know Li Ye felt he had struck gold.

After all, he was a man from the future; while Teacher Ke was still lost in fog, he already knew the correct direction.

A fallen phoenix is no match for a chicken—that’s true—but no matter how beautiful a chicken looks, it’s still just surface shine.

A phoenix is a phoenix—its blood carries the lineage of a divine beast. To benefit his descendants, Li Ye must offer “private assistance.”

Li Ye wrote swiftly; Wen Leyu watched without blinking as the final portion of the novel manuscript was rapidly completed.

Just before class ended, Wen Leyu suddenly said to Li Ye, “Can you teach me how to write a novel?”

Li Ye froze. “You want to write a novel?”

Wen Leyu nodded. “I want to learn—your writing style. Can you teach me?”

Li Ye frowned seriously. “Wen Leyu, your main task right now is the college entrance exam. Writing novels consumes too much time and energy........”

Wen Leyu stared at Li Ye without speaking, but her burning gaze clearly retorted: “You’re telling me this? Then what the hell are you doing right now? Aren’t you writing a novel?”

Li Ye rubbed his forehead, recalling how he used to deal with bratty kids in his past life.

【Don’t eat ice cream—it gives you diarrhea.】

“Do you eat hot rice cakes? Chocolate-flavored ones?”

【Don’t look at those little pictures—they’ll make you kidney-deficient.】

“Do you have lower back pain? I saw you bought Liuwei Dihuang Pills.”

Arguing with a child requires a ten-star-level high-difficulty skill.

Li Ye wanted to tell Wen Leyu outright: writing novels requires either talent or accumulated experience—no mere tricks or secrets can make you write one.

But after thinking it over, none of that mattered, because Wen Leyu wasn’t an ordinary child.

Though young, she had already endured storms. Teacher Ke called her “shy,” but that was wrong.

Wen Leyu was decisive—outwardly dull and cold, her mind was sharp, her inner will stubborn and firm.

She looked like a frail little cat, but alert and swift, with razor-sharp claws hidden beneath her padded paws.

In the end, Li Ye could only urge: “The college entrance exam gets harder every year. If you don’t get into a good school this year, next year will be even more hopeless.”

Wen Leyu stared at Li Ye for several seconds, bit her lip, then wrote something on paper and pushed it over.

“I have to stay with my mother. If she’s still in Qingshui County, I won’t go anywhere. If she gets a job, I can take the college exam anytime.”

Only then did Li Ye understand why Wen Leyu, despite her strong academic foundation, hadn’t passed the college entrance exam last year.

“Alright. First, learn to write outlines, create character profiles, define the story setting, the protagonist’s and supporting characters’ identities, personalities, and future development paths, plot highlights.........”

Li Ye pulled out a blank sheet of paper and, as he spoke, listed the requirements, soon filling several pages with dense writing.

“Once the materials are ready, I’ll be the main writer, and you or your mother will proofread........ We’ll co-write a novel together. When it’s done, you’ll have learned enough.”

Wen Leyu was completely baffled.

She didn’t understand. Not at all.

She thought her Chinese language skills were decent—hardly worse than Li Ye’s. She assumed that if Li Ye just taught her his secrets, she wouldn’t surpass him, but she could at least master seven or eight tenths of his ability.

But she had no idea that writing fiction was entirely different from Chinese composition.

Writing a good essay only gave you the entry-level condition—the real subtleties had to be gradually realized through actual writing.

Li Ye watched the little circles in Wen Leyu’s eyes and said smugly, “You can show these to Teacher Ke—she can explain them to you. They’re very easy to understand.”

“..........”

Wen Leyu glared at Li Ye and flipped him the first-ever white eye.

Very easy to understand?

Are you calling me stupid?

This was the first time the girl had flipped him a white eye—the sweet, pouting, affectionate annoyance instantly stirred Li Ye’s heart.

【Desire is emptiness, emptiness is desire. Amitabha Buddha. No, no, no. These days, everything needs a permit!】

Several days later, Wen Leyu finally gave Li Ye what he wanted.

The dozen or so pages were packed with substance.

Though the handwriting was Wen Leyu’s, Li Ye immediately knew this wasn’t something a girl her age could produce.

The story’s setting was a mountainous region’s anti-Japanese combat unit from decades ago.

The protagonist was a group of steadfast soldiers, described by Teacher Ke from the perspective of “certain soldiers” who devoted themselves entirely to their country.

The main plot, as Teacher Ke described it—【A ragtag group of leftovers from elite units, abandoned, uncared for, nobody wanted them,】

Until one day, a defector—a ruthless killer—became their leader. This killer had a complicated past: he’d attended military academy, fought bandits, killed Japanese soldiers.......】

Li Ye pondered, wondering if the person connected to Wen Leyu and Teacher Ke was one of these “leftovers,” or the killer himself.......

If it was the former, it was manageable. If it was the latter, trouble loomed.

After spending half an hour carefully organizing these writing materials, Li Ye listed many questions on a single sheet and handed them to Wen Leyu.

“If you want to write something outstanding, these details must be clarified. Can you provide more specifics?”

Wen Leyu couldn’t provide anything—she could only take them home and ask her mother, Teacher Ke, to analyze and answer.

After receiving Li Ye’s questions, Teacher Ke thought long and hard before adding details line by line.

When Wen Leyu returned them to Li Ye, he asked again—back and forth two or three times—until Li Ye’s understanding was completely clear.

It was such a strange coincidence: the story Teacher Ke needed to write matched almost exactly a famous eunuch novel Li Ye had read in his past life.

【Oh dear, I was just trying to work hard—but now... how could I possibly accept this?】