In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

"No, I've been watching it all day."

"There was a poet I just met who was alright, but not enough to fill a whole page. I'll take another look."

"Ugh."

Lin Xuechang sighed.

"The circulation dropped again last month. The editor-in-chief said that if we can't find a manuscript for the main edition, we'll run out of travel expenses for the second half of the year."

As he spoke, his gaze fell upon the wastepaper basket at his feet.

The stack of manuscript paper on top was crumpled, with a crease at one corner.

The penmanship was firm, each stroke filling the entire grid, quite different from the hastily written manuscripts next to it.

Lin Xuechang bent down and picked up the stack of papers.

"The Ingenuity of Great Craftsmen..."

Lin Xuechang read the first line.

"A-Yong's college entrance exam results were not ideal..."

Lin Xuechang paused for a moment, then continued reading.

Liu Jianguo glanced at it and laughed: "Editor-in-Chief Lin, I've read that article. The writing is too rough."

Lin Xuechang nodded and hummed in agreement.

Lin Xuechang's hands were busy; he turned to the second page, then the third.

I quickly reached page five.

He sat up straight and became serious.

Page 8.

Liu Jianguo looked up and saw Lin Xuechang staring intently at the manuscript.

"Editor-in-Chief Lin? What's wrong?"

Lin Xuechang hummed in agreement and continued reading.

Turn to page fifteen. Then page twenty. Soon after, page thirty.

The office was very quiet, with only the sound of turning pages.

Liu Jianguo stared for a while, then stood up and leaned closer.

"Isn't that just a story about a laid-off worker repairing cars...?"

"Um...shut up! I'm reading! Get out of my way!"

Lin Xuechang waved his hand without even raising his head.

Liu Jianguo was a little stunned. He had worked with Lin Xuechang for three years, and the old man rarely spoke in this tone.

Lin Xuechang turned to the last page, read the ending, and let out a sigh of relief.

Then there was a half-minute silence.

"Little Liu."

"Ah! Yes."

"Did you throw this manuscript away?"

Liu Jianguo quickly said, "Yes... I think the writing style is too straightforward and doesn't fit—"

"Bang!"

Lin Xuechang slammed his hand on the table, startling Liu Jianguo so much that he took a half step back.

"You! You! You love working! You don't love working! Go home and farm!"

As Lin Xuechang spoke, he turned to the title page of the manuscript, where a name and an address were written.

Zhang Yong.

Unit 4, Building 1, Jinsong Community, Chaoyang District, Beijing.

"Now! Go find the envelope! Write down the return address!"

This article isn't about laid-off workers finding new employment!

"This outlines the industrial future of a major power over the next thirty years!"

......

Inside the editorial office meeting room, more than a dozen editors sat neatly around a long table.

"Old Lin, do we really need to hold a meeting to discuss this? Isn't this going a bit too far?"

Liu Jianguo rubbed his hands, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Just one novel, and you're saying it predicts the next thirty years? That's impossible."

"We're a literary magazine, not the Commission of Science, Technology and Industry for National Defense—"

"Stop joking! Look here."

Lin Xuechang turned to the third chapter and poked his finger at a passage.

Liu Jianguo leaned over and glanced at it briefly.

The above describes the vacuum degassing casting process.

Liu Jianguo really couldn't understand it.

"How did he know about this process?" Lin Xuechang's voice turned serious.

"We've seen quite a few submissions, some in the soft science fiction genre, some in the Great Leap Forward style. Have you ever received any manuscripts with this kind of lyrics?"

"this......"

Liu Jianguo's mouth was half-open and he couldn't close it.

Another senior editor also came over and nodded repeatedly.

"This fuel injection technology is still using carburetors in China, yet it mentions electronic direct injection."

"When I went to FAW for research last month, the engineer there said, 'It's just that we have this direction.'"

"He wrote it," Lin Xuechang said, pointing to the manuscript. "And it's clearly not made up; he genuinely knows his stuff!"

The editing room was silent for a few seconds.

Liu Jianguo finally panicked.

"Stop staring at me! He must have had someone else write it! There's someone powerful behind him!"

"They might be from some research institute, using the name of young people to test the waters of literature!"

"Old Liu, we're on the same page." Lin Xuechang nodded.

Upon hearing this, Liu Jianguo breathed a sigh of relief.

But he hadn't quite gotten over it yet.

Editor-in-Chief Zhou Deqing has arrived. Zhou Deqing had just come down from the editor-in-chief's office on the third floor, his leather shoes covered in dust.

"Everyone, I've read this draft."

After Zhou Deqing spoke, the editorial office fell silent.

"Whether it was ghostwritten or genuine talent, guessing is pointless."

Zhou Deqing put his reading glasses on his nose and looked around at everyone present. "Old Lin, you need to personally go and invite them to the commune tomorrow."

"Should we ask questions on the spot?" Lin Xuechang asked.

"Yes. Give him a topic, two hours, and he has to write it in front of us."

"Let's see what it's really like."

"We will not wrong any comrade, nor will we encourage any speculative or profiteering behavior!"

After Zhou Deqing finished speaking, he turned and walked out, but stopped at the door and turned back to point at Liu Jianguo.

"Liu Jianguo! You son of a bitch! Next time, before you throw away a manuscript, at least finish reading the first chapter!"

"Once this is over, you fucking write me a self-criticism!"

The door closed.

Liu Jianguo's face turned red.

……

The next afternoon.

Zhang Yonggang had just finished practicing driving with Chen Yongjian and was heading home. With five days left until his special driving test, he had spent an extra half hour practicing S-curves today.

As soon as he turned into the alley, Zhang Yong saw the car.

A black Shanghai-brand sedan, its paint gleaming, was parked downstairs in front of the apartment building.

The most valuable mode of transportation in this alley was Uncle Wang's old bicycle next door. Suddenly, a small car appeared, making it quite conspicuous.

Seven or eight neighbors had already gathered downstairs. Aunt Zhang craned her neck to peer through the car window, muttering, "Whose family has such important guests?"

The car door opened, and Lin Xuechang got out of the back seat.

Lin Xuechang was wearing a gray short-sleeved shirt, with a pen clipped to his chest and a brown paper briefcase in his hand. He was in his forties and his hair was somewhat gray.

Lin Xuechang looked up at the building number.

Building 1, Unit 4.

Lin Xuechang then looked at Zhang Yong in front of him.

He was wearing a tank top, shorts, and Warrior sneakers.

Zhang Yong has broad shoulders, and his arms are covered with black and gray marks from the steering wheel.

Is this the person who wrote "The Ingenuity of a Great Nation"?

Lin Xuechang stood there stunned for three seconds.

Lin Xuechang had considered many possibilities before he came.

Perhaps it's a retired engineer, or a university professor.

I never imagined it would be such a young man in front of me.

"Are you Zhang Yong?"

"Yes, that's me." Zhang Yong pulled the key out of his collar to open the door, and wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

Who are you?

Lin Xuechang introduced himself.

"Hello, I am the deputy editor-in-chief of the October magazine. My name is Lin Xuechang."

"Excuse me, did you write 'The Ingenuity of Craftsmen'?"

When Zhang Yong heard his own manuscript, he straightened his back.

The deputy editor-in-chief personally visited.

This is quite a large-scale operation.

"I wrote it."

How old are you this year?

"eighteen."

Lin Xuechang frowned even more deeply.

"Comrade Zhang Yong, our editor-in-chief would like to invite you to visit the office."