A fat man who was reborn from the dead? He transforms into a perfect male god in a week.

The conference center is located on the third floor, in a large auditorium that can accommodate 1,000 people.

Several hundred people were sitting there, a dense crowd.

The moment Jiang Chen pushed the door open and went in...

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

Then, whispers spread like wildfire.

"Holy crap, who is this? Does he look like that?"

"Is this a contestant? Are you sure it's not a top celebrity who wandered onto the wrong set?"

"My god, his looks... even I, a guy, think he's handsome..."

"Wait, this person looks familiar..."

"Is it that guy on the front page of last issue of 'Sprout' magazine? Jiang something?"

"Jiang Chen! Yes, Jiang Chen! The one who came in first place in the preliminary round!"

"Holy crap, is that him? He's even more handsome in person than in the photos!"

"My god, how can someone who looks like that write so well? Doesn't that leave any room for other people to compete?"

Standing behind Jiang Chen, Pan Zhenhua straightened his back unconsciously as he listened to the gasps of surprise.

Although he wasn't the one being discussed.

But rounding it up, he is also one of the parties involved.

Do you even know what it means to feel honored?

Jiang Chen remained expressionless and found a seat on the side.

But it didn't work.

Those gazes were like they had navigation systems installed, all fixed on him.

In the front row of the judging panel, several editors also stopped what they were doing and looked over.

One of the elderly professors, with gray hair and reading glasses, turned around and looked Jiang Chen up and down.

His gaze was as if he were looking at a rare treasure.

"Old Mu, that's Jiang Chen," the editor-in-chief whispered beside him.

The old professor nodded without saying anything, but a slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

interesting.

This young man's aura alone was far more imposing than those of the "geniuses" around him.

……

However, not everyone was won over by Jiang Chen.

The fourth row from the left at the back of the auditorium.

Two figures sat side by side, their postures out of place with their surroundings.

The boy had a buzz cut, high brow bones, and slightly sunken eyes. He habitually raised his chin when looking at people, as if he were looking down at them.

The girl had a neat ponytail, fair skin, and delicate features, but the downward curve of her lips etched the words "keep away" onto her face.

Tang Hu.

Tao Qianqian.

First prize winner of last year's New Concept Writing Competition.

Both of them participated for the second time this year, but their goal was no longer the first prize, but the top prize for first place in the semi-finals.

Tang Hu's gaze swept over the layers of heads and landed on the back of the head of the person in number ten in the third row.

"Is it him?"

Tao Qianqian didn't look, looking down at her phone: "Who else could it be?"

"I thought the first place winner in the preliminary round would have three heads and six arms," ​​Tang Hu scoffed, "but this is all?"

Tao Qianqian did not respond.

Tang Hu tilted his head to look at her: "Are you scared?"

"What am I afraid of?"

"I'm afraid he'll steal your grand prize."

Tao Qianqian finally raised her head and glanced at him, her eyes looking at someone telling a lame joke.

How many times did you read his essay from the preliminary round?

Tang Hu was taken aback: "Once...twice? What's wrong?"

"I read it ten times."

Tao Qianqian turned off her phone screen.

"From a literary perspective, the density of allusions, rhetorical techniques, and structural design in that article are definitely not something a high school student could complete independently."

Tang Hu raised an eyebrow: "So?"

"So either he has someone backing him... a teacher, a parent, or a paid ghostwriter." Tao Qianqian paused, "or... he's a monster."

Which one do you think it is?

"unimportant."

Tao Qianqian finally looked in the direction of number 10 in the third row, her gaze as calm as if she were looking at a dead object.

"The semi-finals will be a live competition with a set topic and a three-hour time limit."

"If the gunmen can't get in, the monsters will have to reveal their true forms."

"By then, it will be clear whether they are human or ghost."

Tang Hu smiled.

"Then I'll have to see how this first-place winner in the preliminary round writes this essay for the semi-finals."

He didn't lower his voice, and several people around him heard it and turned to look.

Jiang Chen didn't turn around.

It didn't even move.

It was as if they hadn't heard.

……

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

The opening ceremony of the semi-finals of the New Concept Writing Competition has officially begun.

The editor-in-chief of Mengya delivered a speech, reviewing the 18-year history of the competition, and the list of past winners of the special prize scrolled on the big screen.

Yu Hua, Su Tong, Ge Fei, Wang Anyi... a series of resounding names.

The students in the audience watched with envy.

This is the new concept.

This is the place they're desperate to get into.

Then, the main event begins.

The host raised his voice: "Next, please welcome the chairman of this competition's judging panel, the renowned literary critic and professor of Chinese Literature at Fudan University... Mr. Mu Yunshan!"

There was thunderous applause.

An elderly man with completely white hair and a vigorous spirit walked onto the stage. His steps were slow, but each step felt like it was stepping on everyone's hearts.

Muyun Mountain.

A leading figure in literary criticism at Southeast University, a judge for the Mao Dun Literature Prize, and the person who has helped launch the careers of at least five contemporary writers.

His comments can determine the fate of a work.

"Students," Mu Yunshan began, his voice deep and resonant, "this year marks the 18th New Concept Writing Competition."

The entire audience held their breath.

"I've been reviewing manuscripts for eighteen years, and this year's preliminary manuscripts are of the highest quality ever."

Some people in the audience straightened their backs.

"Especially that first-place entry in the preliminary round..."

Mu Yunshan paused, his gaze sweeping across the audience before landing precisely on Jiang Chen in the corner.

"Deconstructing Three-Dimensional Love in a Two-Dimensional World: On Emotional Collapse and Quantum Entanglement in the Cartesian Coordinate System"

All eyes immediately turned to Jiang Chen.

"This work," Mu Yunshan said slowly, "is the most unique preliminary essay I have seen in the past eighteen years."

He didn't say it was the best, he said it was the most unique.

But this evaluation is already ridiculously high.

The audience erupted in cheers.

Tang Hu's face darkened, and his fingers unconsciously tightened around the armrest.

Tao Qianqian remained expressionless, but the speed at which the water-based pen spun between her fingers noticeably increased.

Jiang Chen leaned back in his chair, his expression unchanged.

It's like Mu Yunshan was just praising Old Wang next door.

……

Five o'clock in the afternoon.

The opening ceremony ended, and everyone dispersed.

The crowd surged toward the door, and Jiang Chen stood up, unhurriedly.

As soon as I stepped into the aisle, a hand reached out to me.

Tang Hu.

He was half a head shorter than Jiang Chen, but by tilting his chin up, he managed to make looking up seem like looking down.

"Jiang Chen, right?" The tone was very stiff.

Jiang Chen looked down at him: "Is something the matter?"

Tang Hu smirked: "First place in the preliminary round, pretty impressive! Professor Mu praised you so much just now, how does it feel?"

Jiang Chen: "It's alright."

"Not bad?" Tang Hu laughed. "You have a good attitude. If it were me, getting first place in the preliminary round and being praised in public by a master, I would definitely be thrilled."

Jiang Chen: "Yeah, so you're not me."

Tang Hu's smile froze for a moment.

Tao Qianqian walked over from the side, her tone indifferent: "Jiang Chen, we meant no harm, it's just..."

She paused, a half-smile playing on her lips, and said, "As someone who's been through this, I want to give you a heads-up."

Jiang Chen looked at her without saying anything.

"The New Concept Writing Competition semi-finals are on-site writing sessions!"

Tao Qianqian spoke slowly, "There was no ghostwriting, no retouching, and no off-stage assistance."

"Three hours, a pen, a blank sheet of paper; if it works, it works; if it doesn't, it doesn't."

She looked up and stared directly into Jiang Chen's eyes.

"Many contestants who ranked highly in the preliminary rounds in previous years couldn't even get a second prize in the semi-finals. Can you guess why?"

Tang Hu immediately replied, "Because they all hired ghostwriters, hired ghostwriters, and even asked university professors to help with the editing, instead of completing it independently."

"As a result, although they were very successful in the preliminary round and were able to enter the semi-finals with high rankings, they did not have the corresponding strength in the writing competition in the semi-finals, so they were exposed as true to themselves in an instant."

At this point, Tang Hu gave a cold smile.

"However, in the past, these contestants would hire ghostwriters because they were worried that the difference between the original and the final results would be too great, and they would try to keep their preliminary rankings low so that they would not be able to reach the top three and become the target of everyone's criticism."

"But I don't know what you were thinking, hiring a ghostwriter and then having to produce this amazing essay."

"Now look what's happened! The whole world knows you came in first in the preliminary round. If you mess up in the semi-finals and don't even get a second prize, where will you put your face then?"

Jiang Chen listened and remained silent for two seconds.

Then he laughed.

It wasn't a sneer or a mocking laugh; it was a genuine, heartfelt laugh that came from finding the laughter funny.

"Are you finished talking?"

Tang Hu and Tao Qianqian were both taken aback.

Jiang Chen's smile faded, his tone as calm as if he were stating a weather forecast:

"First of all, I didn't have someone else write it for me; I wrote the essay myself."

"Secondly, even if someone else writes it for me..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the two faces:

"They can't write at my level either."

Tang Hu's expression changed drastically.

Tao Qianqian's eyes turned cold.

That's incredibly arrogant.

So arrogant that there was no room for maneuver.

"you……"

Tang Hu was about to speak, but Jiang Chen interrupted him.

"Third," Jiang Chen's tone softened, but carried a hint of genuine confusion:

"Actually, I really don't understand why some people think that a high school student couldn't write that kind of essay?"

He pointed to his head: "If I had even a modicum of intelligence, I could write several articles in a matter of minutes, right?"

After saying that, he turned and left.

Tang Hu: "..."

Tao Qianqian: "..."

The former's face changed from white to red, and then from red to green.

The latter's knuckles, which were gripping the water-based pen, had turned white.

The fact that they both won first prize in the New Concept Writing Competition last year speaks volumes about their writing ability; they are undoubtedly at the pinnacle of high school writing, with few able to surpass them.

Even so, no matter how hard they racked their brains, they could never write a masterpiece like "Deconstructing Three-Dimensional Love in a Two-Dimensional World" because the knowledge gap was too large.

But Jiang Chen said...

If you have a sharp mind, you can write several articles in no time.

What does this mean?

Is it wrong to insult their brains, or say they have low IQs?

Pan Zhenhua witnessed the whole thing from the side, but he didn't dare to breathe loudly.

After Jiang Chen had walked quite a distance, he jogged to catch up, lowering his voice:

"Jiang Chen, what you just said... wasn't it a bit too arrogant? We should be more humble! Otherwise, it's just too rude..."

"Is he crazy?"

Jiang Chen replied without turning his head, "I'm just stating the facts! After all, that essay in the preliminary round was something I wrote casually, without using a single brain cell!"

"As for whether it will choke someone to death, what does that have to do with me?"

Pan Zhenhua: "..."

……

That evening, a budget hotel near the Harbourfront Centre.

Pan Zhenhua tossed and turned in bed, glancing at the time on his phone every now and then.

In the next bed, Jiang Chen sat cross-legged, with the stationery he would need for tomorrow's exam spread out in front of him.

One ballpoint pen, two spare refills.

An eraser.

Admission ticket.

ID card.

Gone.

Pan Zhenhua couldn't help but say, "Jiang Chen, why don't you review a bit? Like looking at some essay materials? Memorize some famous quotes or sayings? Get yourself into your best condition?"

Jiang Chen put the stationery into his pencil case: "No need."

"What if tomorrow's questions are very obscure?"

Even if it's in a remote area, it's still easy to grab!

"you……"

Pan Zhenhua wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Forget it.

Which competition does this kid participate in? Isn't it all a piece of cake?

He easily achieved a perfect score and ranked first in four subject competitions.

In the English speech, she delivered a perfect score, ranking first.

I finished both monthly exams in less than half an hour and got a perfect score of 750 points.

Even in sports, they managed to break ten world records at the school sports meet...

There were also basketball games...

compare to.

Although the New Concept Chinese Composition Competition is a national competition and extremely difficult for others, it seems to be nothing special for Jiang Chen.

Review? Is it really necessary?

No, he doesn't need it...

……