Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

Yu Hua came later.

He walked in through the door with Wang Anyi, Acheng, and a few others.

Wang Anyi walked ahead wearing a dark blue coat, while Acheng followed beside her, wearing a light-colored thin cotton-padded jacket and black-rimmed glasses. His hair was a little gray, but he looked very energetic.

Yu Hua took the initiative to walk towards Fang Yuan.

"Fang Yuan? I've heard about you before."

He extended his hand, his palm rough and warm. "I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally meet you."

Fang Yuan shook hands with him, "Hello, Teacher Yu."

Yu Hua pulled up a chair and sat down.

He didn't smoke like Wang Shuo; he just slowly sipped his tea.

"You're more impressive than any of us!" Yu Hua said. "Most people in the industry are still unsuccessful at your age. You're different; you've achieved fame early."

Fang Yuan felt a little awkward and didn't know what to say.

Yu Hua noticed his unease.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, really, a lot of people are talking about what the purpose of writing is."

I don't know about others, but I was just doing it to make money.

"Making money is nothing to be ashamed of. You don't have such grand ideals and goals. You've done a great job in this regard."

Especially your novels, almost all of which have been adapted very successfully. That's quite remarkable.

Okay, now Teacher Yu is starting to have a "Deng flavor" from later generations.

How could it not succeed? Fang Yuan almost always rewrote his novels based on finished film and television works.

"I've noticed that your novel has some unique features."

Everyone speaks differently, and many characters' dialogues are very suitable for adaptation.

Fang Yuan said, "When I'm writing, I first write a short biography for each character, clearly stating where they come from, what they've done, what they're afraid of, and what they want. Once I've thought these things through, the things they say won't go astray."

Yu Hua nodded. "It's hard work, but it's also a skill that requires dedication and perseverance."

"Your books in North America are also quite good. It's not easy to get them published there. Our works have to be translated and published, which is a lot of work. But you, on the other hand, just publish the English version directly."

"Earn dollars, just like you said, it's not shameful."

"Haha, well said. It sounds like you're showing off."

Ah Cheng also came over later.

He didn't discuss Fang Yuan's work like Wang Shuo and Yu Hua did; he just listened quietly for a while, and only spoke when Yu Hua went to get something to eat.

"Actually, we're all interested in your monetization potential," A-Cheng said softly.

"Your novels are all bestsellers, and the movies and TV series adapted from them have achieved great box office success and critical acclaim. This success rate is truly impressive. Most importantly, you also publish books very frequently."

Fang Yuan felt a cold sweat breaking out on his back.

"How should I put it? My studies at the Central Academy of Drama were indeed a great help to me."

Acheng nodded, said nothing more, and walked away with his teacup.

Fang Yuan later chatted with Wang Anyi for a few minutes.

Wang Anyi's voice wasn't loud, but her tone was steady as she asked him what courses he had taken at the Central Academy of Drama and whether he had read any good scripts.

Fang Yuan mentioned that he was watching Chekhov's plays, and Wang Anyi said, "In Chekhov's plays, the characters often say things that are not what they really want to say. It would be very interesting if you used this in a film script."

Fang Yuan found this perspective refreshing and kept it in mind.

The welcome banquet lasted for nearly three hours.

As the event ended, Wang Shuo patted Fang Yuan on the shoulder and asked, "Where will you be sitting at the awards ceremony tomorrow?"

"I'll follow your instructions."

"Then we're not far apart," Wang Shuo said before leaving.

The awards ceremony on the second day was scheduled for 7 p.m. at the Shanghai Centre Theater.

Fang Yuan arrived half an hour early, and a large crowd had already gathered at the entrance, including reporters, authors, media staff, and many ordinary readers.

After he gave his name, the staff led him to a seat in the front row of the audience, near the center.

He sat down and looked around. Several seats next to him were empty, but nameplates were already displayed—Wang Anyi, Wang Shuo, Yu Hua, A Cheng, Chen Cun. Sure enough, it was the front row.

The awards ceremony was very formal.

The opening act featured a scene from a play adapted from an online work, which elicited laughter from the audience.

The host announced the list of winners—Shang Ailan's "The Little Restaurant in the Sexy Era" won the first prize in the novel category, and Mosquito's "Mosquito's Last Will and Testament" won the first prize in the essay category.

The applause was always enthusiastic during the awards ceremony.

Fang Yuan sat in the audience watching the award-winning authors go on stage to receive their awards, give speeches, and bow.

Most of them were just ordinary people who wrote online before, without any membership in the Writers' Association, without any published works, and many were even unwilling to reveal their real names.

But at this moment, they stood on the stage of the Shanghai Centre Theater, with more than a thousand people sitting in the audience, and Wang Anyi, Wang Shuo, and Yu Hua sitting next to them.

This contrast made Fang Yuan feel that what Zhu William was doing was indeed meaningful.

After the ceremony, the organizers arranged a symposium for the following day.

The location was a conference room at the Shanghai Library.

When Fang Yuan arrived at the symposium at 9:30 a.m., there were already quite a few people sitting on the stage.

Wang Anyi sat in the middle-right position, holding a thermos cup in her hand.

Wang Shuo sat next to her, his hands crossed on the table, his expression relaxed.

Acheng sat on one side, while Yu Hua and Chen Cun sat side by side on the other.

Several representatives of online authors—Li Xunhuan, Ning Caishen, and Annie Baby—were also seated on the stage.

Fang Yuan was assigned to a place next to Chen Village.

The host was an editor from Rongshuxia. After a brief introduction, he handed the microphone to Chencun.

Chen Cun took the microphone, looked at the audience, then at the judges and online writers beside him, and said something that was later reported by many media outlets:

"The greatest significance of the awards ceremony under the banyan tree is not in which works ultimately win awards, but in that it symbolizes the first time Chinese literature has taken the stage online."

Such a runway show is lively, serious, equal, and open, which is what people expect.

Although the internet is young, its current state is built upon the foundation laid by the selfless labor of many websites and countless netizens, and driven by the efforts of many people who, though not online, are interested in original online literature.

The first part of the symposium was the judges' speeches.

Wang Anyi took the microphone first; her voice wasn't loud, but it was very clear.

"Online literature has shown me some things that are disappearing in traditional literature—that unpolished, raw quality of language. Sometimes this is more valuable than technique."

Wang Shuo was the second to speak.

He held the microphone casually and spoke in a nonchalant tone, but the content of his words was serious.

"Many people say that online literature is not literature, but I think that the so-called mainstream literature is becoming less and less like literature."

What is literature? Literature is alive; it breathes.

Many works on the internet, though rough, have vitality.

Some people might see it as "improper," but if the audience enjoys it, then it's good.