Tokyo Tycoon, Start as a Writer

Chapter 89 Why are there only people who covet my beauty?

When Kiyoaki Matsueda arrived at the classroom, the class was almost over.

The professor at the podium had slightly gray hair on his temples. He wore an old dark blue suit and a pair of thick-lens glasses that showed his age.

With a sharp gaze and deep insights, he was talking to the students about the article structure and writing techniques of "Chao Sao". From time to time, he played some paragraphs on the big screen for the students to do reading comprehension.

"Mr. Kobayashi," Professor Kiyono read from the roll call list.

"what?"

Kobayashi Midori stood up with a look of disaster on her face.

"Could you please tell me why Mishima wrote this passage in this way?" Professor Kiyono clicked on the next page of the PPT.

[They climbed the stone steps of the shrine... The young man wanted to hold Hatsue's hand... Nature also blessed them... The night sky was full of stars, and the clouds... It was as if they could hear the healthy, regular, and peaceful breathing of the sea.]

"..."

Looking at the words on the screen, the editor's whole face wrinkled.

...Matsueda-kun, what exactly did you want to express when you wrote this? Can you tell me now?
Seeing the female student open her mouth, unable to think of what to say for a long time, and just about to blurt out "expresses the author's homesickness" to fool her, Professor Qingye could only gesture for her to sit down, and then said: "Write a 5000-word review and hand it in to my office tomorrow."

"what--"

Kobayashi Midori's face suddenly turned dark.

In response, Matsueda Kiyoaki looked at her with sympathy.

Professor Kiyono looked at the students and said calmly, "We study the history of Japanese literature. Looking at modern and contemporary writers, it is not difficult to see two very obvious characteristics. One is that they do not care about society and politics, and regard themselves as noble, which leads to the lack of grand narrative and ideological depth in most works. The second is that mono no aware is rampant. Many writers commit suicide while writing. Not only do they die themselves, but they also drag their fans and readers with them. The starting points of most suicides are difficult to put on the table, so that bystanders can only sigh with regret, but they will hardly feel shocked or have any insights..."

Although the professor is old, he is still full of energy and spirit, and he criticized the Japanese writer's suicide behavior meticulously.

He bluntly said that to bystanders, the suicides of those literary masters were meaningless.

Apart from sighing like "Oh, what a pity", bystanders will hardly gain any insights from the literary giant's suicide.

Influenced by the Japanese literati's love of suicide, the Japanese dramas and animations that are popular nowadays are also beginning to be filled with a "sorrowful" atmosphere.

In the normal human value system, grief is a negative emotion.

The culture of mourning is actually a brilliant "flower of evil" that grows out of the mud when Japanese society is suppressed and hit.

From this perspective, "The Tide" is simply a breath of fresh air.

Professor Kiyono analyzed the problems of modern and contemporary Japanese literature from a professional perspective, and highly praised the significance of "Shiosai" to the Japanese literary world, saying that it was a perfect work, which made Kiyoaki Matsueda, who was listening outside, feel a little embarrassed.

However, he still agreed with the professor's point that the suicide of Japanese writers was meaningless.

People like Akutagawa Ryunosuke, Kawabata Yasunari, and Dazai Osamu, the leader elected by late-night depressed junior literary youths, are dead and that's it. Suicide can't make people feel anything at all.

Yukio Mishima's suicide by seppuku is even ridiculous.

However, when Mishima died, it happened to be the peak of left-wing thought in Japan. As a right-winger, he was naturally regarded as an outlier by the mainstream society. If he had committed suicide against the backdrop of the current global rise of the right wing, the evaluation might have been completely reversed.

The bell for the end of get out of class rang as Professor Kiyono spoke in a powerful voice.

Professor Kiyono glanced at Matsueda Kiyoaki at the door and walked out with the lesson plan in his hand.

Kobayashi Midori also noticed him, hurriedly packed up her books, and trotted after him.

Leaving the classroom, the three of them walked in the wide and quiet corridor of the main hospital, their footsteps echoing melodiously.

Outside the corridor are golden ginkgo trees, the atmosphere is comfortable and elegant, and on the inside of the wall are pictures of many outstanding alumni who graduated from here, including several former prime ministers and great writers.

Kiyoaki Matsueda looked at a guy named Murakami.

This is certainly not Haruki Murakami, but it's almost the same. The works he wrote all have the confused and bourgeois tone of Murakami when he first debuted.

"I have seen many geniuses, but no one can write such a perfect work as "Shiosao" at the age of 20..." Professor Kiyono's tone in private was not as stern as in class.

"Even if you ask Mishima himself to do it, he wouldn't be able to write it when he was 20 years old." Kiyoaki Matsueda told the truth.

"You're being modest again." Kobayashi Midori looked at him happily.

Professor Qingye looked calm and did not ask the student any more questions. Instead, he started talking about other topics: "Do you like literature?"

"Uh……"

This is like asking a worker who installs air conditioners, "Master, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm asking if you like it other than work needs," Professor Kiyono added.

"I like it." Kiyoaki Matsueda replied.

“Which writer do you like?”

“I like it printed on the Japanese yen.”

"..."

Professor Kiyono had garlic under his feet and almost fell down.

Kobayashi Midori covered her mouth, turned her face away, and her shoulders trembled slightly.

In Japan, there are three types of people who are generally respected by the public: lawyers, doctors and writers.

Among them, writers are even called national teachers, and their portraits can be printed on banknotes.

But the student's words clearly did not mean that he liked the Japanese yen writer, but that he liked the Japanese yen.

Professor Qingye quickly regained his calm demeanor and nodded slightly, "It turns out that you also have a humorous side, which is great. In order to allow you to create better, I will not force you to come back to class..."

"Uh……"

"You have a clear mind and are full of talent. In the face of the magnificent history of mankind, a few classes are nothing. You don't need to waste your time here. It is the right thing to do to dedicate your talent to greater ambitions. Is that what you think?"

"The main reason is that I can't remember what department I'm in." Kiyoaki Matsueda answered honestly.

"..."

"Pfft~"

Professor Kiyono turned his head and glared at Midori Kobayashi.

The young editor immediately bit his lower lip, pinched his thigh, and looked solemnly ahead.

"Generally speaking, students who see me tend to look reserved and stutter nervously. You are truly an exception."

"Maybe they violated the school rules, so they feel guilty in front of you. I'm different. I haven't even been to school, so how could I feel guilty?"

Facing this professor who was a school bully, Matsueda Kiyoaki looked relaxed and behaved appropriately.

Professor Kiyono did not put on airs in the classroom. He squinted his eyes and walked with his hands behind his back.

From the perspective of the two students, he looked like an older office worker who was slacking off at work and looking forward to retirement, but he exuded a different kind of charm.

"What kind of literature do you like best?" the professor asked.

Matsueda Kiyoaki thought for a moment and answered, "Russian literature."

"What do you think is the biggest feature of Russian literature?" Professor Kiyono asked with interest.

"suffering."

"Yes, everyone is equal, and all beings suffer! There are many nations that have suffered, but few that have been able to write great works. In this respect, the Russians are a special case."

“Russian literature was never born out of a joyful creative impulse, but rather out of the suffering of men and peoples and their disastrous fate, out of thoughts about saving all mankind.”

“Suffering is the cradle of creation.”

No matter which country, times of turmoil and war are the peak of literary development.

In Japan, the Black Ship Incident brought about social turmoil and also brought Western ideas to the Japanese literary world. Modern Japanese literature was born as a result, and a group of great writers such as Natsume Soseki, Mori Ogai, and Akutagawa Ryunosuke emerged.

Later in the Showa period, the suffering brought by World War II brought Japan to the peak of modern literature. Yukio Mishima, Yasunari Kawabata and Osamu Dazai were the representative writers of this period.

The two of them returned to the office while talking and chatting.

Inside the spacious room, there are two bookshelves against the wall, filled with all kinds of books.

There is a shelf next to the desk, with a well-behaved and cute parrot on it. It tilts its head to look at humans and opens its mouth to repeat greetings like "Kou Ni Ji Wa".

Professor Kiyono made tea, asked the two students to sit on the sofa, and talked to them about the regrets of Japanese literature.

In the opinion of this old professor, the greatest regret of Japanese literature is that no works with depth and richness were produced during the times of suffering and turmoil.

There are certainly excellent works, but unfortunately they are all limited to private novels that depict the daily trivia and inner world of individuals, and lack epic masterpieces with a macro perspective like "War and Peace".

Songeda Qingxian listened, nodded, and occasionally agreed with a few words.

Kobayashi Midori seemed a little absent-minded, her eyes moving back and forth.

There are many old-fashioned photos hanging on the snow-white walls, most of which are group photos of professors and literary figures, and commemorative photos of various academic conferences.

Professor Kiyono drank tea, talked about the regrets of Japanese literature, and then expressed his regret for the ancient country west of the ocean.

"I have admired and even loved Han culture since I was a child. Unfortunately, this great culture with thousands of years of history has not been spread around the world. The reason is that the cultural achievements of ancient China were almost all concentrated on poetry. It's not that this is bad, but poetry is a very national thing and can't be translated into various languages ​​and spread like novels. It's really a pity..."

"Yes." Kiyoaki Matsueda nodded.

There is nothing we can do about it, since novels as a literary medium were considered to be of the lowest class in ancient China.

"After watching 'The Tide', I had high expectations of you."

Professor Kiyono, an old scholar of the Showa era who had participated in the student movement, bared his bloodthirsty fangs at the student: "Your writing has reached the top level in both the classical and aesthetic schools. What you need to focus on next is to improve the depth of your works and make up for the biggest shortcoming of Japanese literature."

"……I see!"

Facing the old professor's gaze that seemed to be real, Matsueda Kiyoaki didn't dare to say anything else.

After hearing his answer, Professor Qingye's expression became calm, and he said calmly: "Based on what you said, I will make up for your previous attendance. From now on, even if you don't come to class, I will treat you as present."

"Oh, thank you so much." Kiyoaki Matsueda nodded in thanks.

"What about me?" Kobayashi Midori looked at the old professor eagerly, "Teacher, what about me? Can I not come to class?"

Professor Kiyono glanced at her and said, "Do you want to write another speech?"

"..." Kobayashi Midori quickly covered her mouth.

Ignoring the female student's resentment, Professor Kiyono looked at Matsueda Kiyoaki again and said, "After you graduate from university, if you still want to continue your studies, I will personally be your mentor."

"Okay, I remember."

"By the way, you shouldn't be busy right now, right? I have something..."

"Oh, no, I have something to do!" Matsueda Kiyoaki waved his hands quickly, "I have to perform a stage play during this period." "???"

Professor Qingye looked at him with a look of disappointment.

I was already thinking that it would be better not to give him any preferential treatment and to take him back to school to attend classes. It would be better than wasting time by performing in a stage play.

"Teacher, I haven't neglected my creative work..."

Matsueda Kiyoaki was well prepared to deal with this old-fashioned scholar, and he quickly took out his manuscript and handed it over: "This is the beginning of my new book. I want to give it to you as a souvenir. Please take a look."

Suddenly, the dissatisfaction in Professor Qingye's eyes was directly blown away by the manuscript.

After taking the manuscript from the student and reading it from beginning to end, he was deeply impressed and became unusually kind to Matsueda Kiyoaki.

In Kobayashi Midori's view, it was just like treating his godson.

So this is the special treatment for top students. She is so envious.

"I have met many impressive students, but none of them impressed me as much as you." Professor Kiyono held the manuscript, and although he tried his best to look deep, the corners of his mouth were so raised that even AK couldn't suppress it, "... After all, you are the first student who gave me a manuscript as a writer."

"I'm sorry, teacher."

“I wonder how many words you plan to write for the new work?”

"One hundred and twenty or thirty thousand."

"It's a long novel." Professor Kiyono nodded slightly and asked, "When will it start serialization?"

"Serialization will begin in November," Kiyokasaki Matsueda replied.

"Oh, then you can see my chapter in the magazine next month." Professor Kiyono picked up the teacup and put it to his lips.

"Yes. The book will be published in December."

"Cough, cough, cough..."

The old professor was choked and coughed for a while, looking at him in shock: "It's coming out in December? It's already been finished? Are you aiming for the Akutagawa Prize?"

"Yup."

Songeda Qingxian's calmness shocked him for a while before he regained his composure.

There are talented writers out there.

There are also prolific writers.

But he is a genius and prolific, unprecedented in his ability to produce.

Professor Kiyono wiped his lips, calmed his breathing, and said, "There are fewer outstanding works published this year than in previous years. It is indeed a good time to strive for the Akutagawa Prize. But I hope there will be some good works to compete with you, so that it will be more valuable."

"Let's see what happens in the next two months." Songzhi Qingxian smiled and looked at the time. It was past ten o'clock. He felt that it was almost time to leave, so he asked, "I wonder what the teacher wants me to do?"

"What do you think?" Professor Kiyono looked at him meaningfully.

"hiss--"

At this moment, Songzhi Qingxian felt something was wrong.

If I had known earlier, I would not have asked too many questions and would have sneaked away before he could react...

"I am a dull student and do not understand the teacher's intention. Oh, I suddenly remembered that I have something to do and I have time to drink tea..."

"Sit down!"

"..."

The sight of Matsueda Kiyoaki sitting down obediently made Kobayashi Midori extremely happy.

"I wonder what I have done to make the teacher worried?" the student asked cautiously.

Professor Kiyono looked him over and said, "Of course it's your most outstanding specialty."

"My specialty? Talent? Ah, I've been staying up late for my new book lately and my head is almost bald. There's really nothing I can do..." Kiyokatsu Matsueda began to play the victim.

"Your talent won't be needed this time." Professor Qingye shook his head.

"That……"

Songzhi Qingxian frowned slightly.

You need to have a specialty that stands out, but not a talent...

Could it be...

In a split second, he had a very bad premonition, and leaned back with his arms crossed, "Teacher, I will not sell my chastity."

"Who wants your chastity!" Professor Kiyono cursed angrily.

"That's good."

"I need your color."

"?"

Kiyoaki Matsueda's face was filled with shock.

He really wanted to ask, is there any difference?

"The Waseda Cultural Festival will open in a month. The school attaches great importance to it. This year, the cultural festival funds allocated are close to 4000 million yen. The cultural festival is a business card of Waseda. At this time every year, it attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists to visit the school. In front of these hundreds of thousands of people, our school's student representative must be someone with perfect appearance."

"...I was almost scared to death by you." Matsueda Kiyoaki patted his chest with lingering fear.

Damn it, he almost thought that the professor would use his power to threaten him and prevent him from graduating if he didn't act like a troublemaker.

"Admittedly, in my opinion, the appearance of flesh and blood is not as important as the interesting soul. But vulgar people still make up the majority of the world."

Looking at the handsome student in front of him, the old-fashioned and strict professor said with a serious expression: "Over the years, although our school's scientific research has not made much progress, the construction of campus culture is undoubtedly the best among Japanese universities. After all, we are a private school, and it is difficult for us to compete with the seven major universities in the Empire. Therefore, a more relaxed and rich campus life has become our recruitment weapon."

Kiyoaki Matsueda looked at him silently to see what flowers he could name.

"But over the years, the seven great universities in the empire have also begun to pay attention to the construction of campus culture! Especially the group of people from the University of Tokyo, relying on the fact that they are the top university and have sufficient funds, they held a beauty pageant at the cultural festival, which is really shameful! And Kyoto University copied our model and created a happy daily life where Kyoto students' every move is performance art. Their popularity overseas has soared, and they have taken away a lot of overseas students who should have belonged to us! Ha, what a ridiculous thing, when I was doing the student movement, I didn't even know where they were——!"

As the old professor spoke, he became more and more indignant.

It was as if I had returned to 1969, waving red flags and leading student movement members to attack the Police Mobile Unit.

"Tokugawa... No, Matsueda-san, listen! Our Waseda Cultural Festival is the best school festival in Japan! As a senior, you should be the student representative and the spokesperson for the school festival. We must maintain the long history and glory of the Waseda Cultural Festival and deter those villains who are eyeing the throne!"

"..."

"Let them know what the eternal kingship means!"

"..."

It turns out that the Japanese all have a strong chuunibah gene, and even the old-fashioned scholars are no exception.

A few minutes later, Kiyoaki Matsueda, with a confused look on his face, walked out of the office with an important task on his shoulders, followed by Midori Kobayashi, who was gloating over his misfortune.

The cell phone rang, ding ding ding.

As soon as the call was connected, the incredibly excited voice of Xiaolu's head teacher came out.

"Matsueda-kun! I just found out today that you are also a graduate of our school..."

"Uh, what then?"

"Please be the ambassador of this school festival. You don't have to do anything. Just walk around the school and show your beauty to the visitors. Oh, I'm so excited. I'll go prepare clothes for you right away... Toot toot..."

The call was abruptly terminated.

Kiyoaki Matsueda stood blankly in the autumn sun, holding his cell phone: "Alas, how come there are so many people in this world who covet my beauty..."

"And me~" said Midori Kobayashi.

Matsueda Kiyoaki looked at her, and saw that she was smiling innocently, lively and cute: "I have made up my mind to be the first to touch Matsueda-kun's body~"

Oh, so scary.

Boys must protect themselves when they go out...

■

Tokyo, Minato.

In a Western-style mansion, Seiji Ishihara walked into the backyard with a heavy heart.

There was a lounge chair on the corridor in the yard where the sun could reach. An old man was lying on it leisurely, flipping through the book in his hand, while the teapot on the tea table beside him was emitting a faint aroma of tea.

At first glance, he looks like an ordinary old man.

But in fact, he is Shintaro Ishihara, the current governor of Tokyo.

As the top official of the Tokyo metropolitan area and a leading right-wing politician, he is certainly one of the most powerful politicians in the country.

He was also the leader of the Ishihara zaibatsu and a famous right-wing writer who won the Akutagawa Prize.

The book he was reading at that time was "The Tide".

"Grandpa." Seiji Ishihara walked forward.

Ishihara Shintaro glanced at his grandson, then returned his gaze to the book and asked casually, "What's wrong?"

"How about this book?" asked Seiji Ishihara.

"It's amazing. He has brought the classical romantic writing style to its extreme. There is no one else in the current literary world who can match his level." Shintaro Ishihara commented with great admiration.

As a great writer, his level of literary appreciation is naturally online.

"If I compare "The Sun and the Tower" with his, who has a greater chance of winning the Akutagawa Prize?" Seiji Ishihara asked carefully.

"Huh? Isn't your book not finished yet?" Ishihara Shintaro looked at his grandson in confusion. "Besides, didn't you say that you would wait until I stepped down as a permanent judge for the Akutagawa Prize before participating in the selection?"

His term as a judge for the Akutagawa Prize will expire next year.

According to the original plan, Sun Zi was going to use these two years to polish "The Sun and the Tower" and win the 2012 Akutagawa Prize in one go.

Ishihara Seiji gritted his teeth and said, "I want to get it this year. Otherwise, I'm afraid it will cause me mental problems in the future..."

"Is that so? Then run for election."

In the warm autumn sunshine, the old man's eyes were gentle, his tone was calm, and he had an irresistible aura: "I will resign as a judge in advance and help you finish the unfinished part. If you want to submit your manuscript, please submit it to Bungeishunju. I will take care of all the procedures and let them give you the green light. There is no reason why the Ishihara family cannot get what they want..."

(End of this chapter)