Chapter 830

"Wait! Natsume-sensei!"

"Don't rush to a conclusion!"

Takahashi Jun was so anxious that his body leaned forward, and his speaking speed accelerated:

"Our 'Midnight Publishing House' although we cannot independently operate your pure literature work, but!"

"Behind us, is Shin-Ei Publishing!"

Uda Ayaka also nodded immediately, her beautiful face glowing with brilliance again:

"That's right, that's right!"

"Our Midnight Publishing House is a sub-brand under Shin-Ei Publishing."

"And Shin-Ei Publishing is one of the top comprehensive large publishing houses in the Japanese publishing industry!"

Her voice carried pride.

"Literature, social science, art, textbooks... they have involvement in all kinds of books, and their strength is strong."

"Especially in the field of pure literature, it is Shin-Ei Publishing's traditional strength and favorite!"

"They own top-level literary magazines, sponsor important pure literature awards all year round, and have close relationships with those high-and-mighty 'literary circle' big shots."

"As long as the quality of the work is hard enough, they are absolutely the best choice!"

Niigaki Shoji also affirmed:

"Yes, Natsume-sensei. If you need, we can completely act as recommenders, and recommend you and your work to the veteran editors in the head office who are best at the field of pure literature."

"Even, if the work is stunning enough, it is not impossible to recommend it directly to the person in charge at the editor-in-chief level."

Natsume Chikage's eyes lit up.

"That's great."

"Then I will trouble you."

At this time, the printer stopped working.

Three complete manuscripts of "Snow Country" that still carried the residual warmth of the machine were neatly stacked on the table.

Gao Qiaochun looked at that thick stack of manuscripts, and the slight regret he felt over Natsume Chikage turning toward pure literature was ultimately overwhelmed by a stronger sense of curiosity.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his somewhat nervous and expectant mood, and asked in as gentle a tone as possible:

"Natsume-sensei... before formally recommending it to the head office, can we... read this work of yours first?"

He rubbed his hands, looking a bit embarrassed, but his eyes were sincere.

"If... if the quality is really as stunning as your previous work."

"When we report to the top, we can also have more confidence, and perhaps we can fight for more senior editors for you, or even the direct attention of the editor-in-chief."

"In that case, in terms of publishing conditions, publicity resources, and even future royalty shares, there might be a better starting point."

Natsume Chikage nodded understandingly, a grateful smile appearing on his face.

"Of course."

Takahashi Jun, although he couldn't help but regret in his heart—if this were a suspense mystery, that would be great, and he and his group would likely harvest a dazzling performance again.

But he still couldn't help but ask the doubt hovering in the bottom of his heart:

"Natsume-sensei... can I take the liberty to ask you a question?"

Natsume Chikage said frankly:

"Please."

Takahashi Jun weighed his words, carefully asking:

"Since you have already proven yourself in the field of suspense and mystery with 'The Devotion of Suspect X'..."

"Why... did you suddenly turn to create pure literature?"

He paused, trying to make his tone sound just curious, not questioning.

"This 'crossover' range... in the eyes of many people, is it a bit... too big?"

Natsume Chikage seemed to have been prepared for this question.

His expression was natural, and his tone was peaceful as he explained:

"Actually, the conception of 'Snow Country' is something I have been brewing in my heart for a long time."

"Its state and appeal are not quite the same as when I wrote 'The Devotion of Suspect X'."

He smiled slightly.

"Now that the mystery novel has been successfully put on the shelves, I have completed a stage goal."

"So, I wanted to write out the stories that I have always wanted to write and that are closer to inner expression."

"It can be considered... fulfilling a wish."

"After all, even for me, I have a dream of wanting to write pure literature."

His explanation was reasonable and reasonable, sounding more like a natural choice made by the creator following his original intention.

Niigaki Shoji and Uda Ayaka, who also had doubts, heard this and showed expressions of realization.

They had contacted many authors and knew deeply that many writers hid a "literary dream" deep in their hearts.

Pure literature, for many writers, is like a sacred temple.

It represents the ultimate tempering of language art itself, the serious questioning of the depth of human nature and the essence of existence, and the inheritance and exploration of the **national aesthetic core, such as "mono no aware," "yugen," and "wabi-sabi."

It does not cater to the market, even deliberately keeps a distance from the popular, and pursues the "retention value" of the work in the long river of literary history, and the "identity certification" of the author in the elite evaluation system of the "literary circle."

Writing pure literature is regarded as a supreme pursuit of "artistic path," and it is a practice where the creator regards literature as "technique approaching the path."

Its status is noble, precisely because of its "difficulty"—difficult to write, difficult to be understood by the public, and even more difficult to obtain the recognition of that harsh elite system.

But once successful, what it brings will be the ultimate glory as a "writer" that transcends commercial value.

At this moment.

The three editors held complex moods—curiosity, expectation, a hint of scrutiny, and hidden doubts about "whether a genius can continue to create miracles in another completely different field."

They each picked up a copy of the "Snow Country" manuscript that still emitted the fresh scent of ink.

Their gazes fell on the beginning of the manuscript at the same time.

【Passing through the long county border tunnel, it is the snow country.】

No redundant description, no deliberate sensationalism.

Only the sense of spatial transition and isolation brought by the "tunnel," and the boundless, cold, and pure imagery carried by the noun "snow country."

However, within this absolute simplicity—

An incomparably clear, incomparably vast, and incomparably lonely scroll seemed to be pushed slowly but irresistibly before their eyes, their minds, and the depths of their souls by an invisible giant hand from behind the words.

They "saw" it.

They saw the long, dim, seemingly endless tunnel walls receding rapidly outside the train window.

They felt the somewhat stuffy air isolated from the outside world inside the carriage.

Then...

The light came in.

The white light at the tunnel exit went from weak to strong.

Immediately after—

A vast, boundless, pure white that made people's hearts palpitate occupied the entire field of vision.

Continuous snow plains, snow-covered mountains, frozen rivers, the whole world seemed to be wrapped into a thick, soft, cold cotton.

The air was biting, carrying the clean scent of snow.

Except for the monotonous sound of the train running, only this snow country remained.

In the editorial department, only the slight air supply sound of the central air conditioning remained.

And only the three people who were instantly dragged into another cold and beautiful world by an opening sentence. ===== CHAPTER 831 =====