Literary Master: Starting with Refusing to Be a Child Star

Chapter 141 An Unexpected Showdown

The news came suddenly.

Jia Bei's tone on the phone was a little more tense than usual: "Do you know Stanley Robinson?" Luo Jinnian certainly did. The author of the Mars Trilogy, one of the most respected names in hard science fiction, his works are known for their rigorous scientific detail and grand colonial concepts, and he has a huge readership worldwide. Jia Bei continued, "He's releasing a new book next month. It's also about survival on Mars. I heard from people at the publishing house that he spent almost four years writing this book, and it's considered an important work in his return to hard science fiction."

Luo Jinnian remained silent after listening. At that time, he was going through the final revision of "The Martian" chapter by chapter, and was also dealing with Mars-related themes. Two hard science fiction works, both set on Mars, entered the market within the same time window. One was by an established master, and the other was by a newly emerging domestic creator. This overlap was not a coincidence, but a preordained intersection of time that was bound to happen sooner or later.

The news spread faster than he had anticipated. Within a week, several articles previewing Kim Stanley Robinson's new work were published, occasionally employing a subtle sense of contrast—statements like "the return of hard science fiction" were followed by a casual remark from some media outlets: "Meanwhile, domestic authors are also attempting similar themes." These accompanying sentences were short, but enough to draw readers' attention to the fact that "someone is starting on the same track." Discussions began on forums, with topics like "Is Early Spring Tea going head-to-head with Robinson?", "Mars-themed collision," and "the orthodox debate in hard science fiction" gradually appearing on the discussion lists. Luo Jinnian didn't reply to those posts. Instead, he wrote a line in his notebook: "The value of a work isn't determined by its contemporaries, but by how many times it can be revisited."

The real turning point came on the day Robinson's new book was released. Surviving on Mars (the title is fictional, but it is a real work in this world) received excellent reviews after its release, with media praise focusing on its solid scientific details and the completeness of its world-building.

Luo Jinnian read several book reviews, which used descriptions such as "rigorous," "profound," and "masterful."

He acknowledged that the reviews were based on evidence. But he also noticed a recurring phrase in those reviews: "A typical Kim Stanley Robinson work, continuing his consistent narrative style." He read that line twice in the same review, then closed the page without reading any further comments.

In an interview, Robinson was asked about his views on other contemporary works on the Mars theme. His answer was tactful, roughly stating, "I'm glad to see more creators paying attention to the Mars theme; this in itself is a boost to the science fiction field." That answer was quoted and reprinted many times, but in the process, some parts were given different titles, some were used in isolation (excerpts), and some were placed in contrast to other comments. The flow of public opinion gradually shifted through those subtle editing maneuvers, becoming a more tortuous and lengthy path than he had anticipated, traversing different time zones and contexts, all moving in one direction.

The next day, Jiabei sent a message: "Robinson's new book's first-week sales and reviews are both above expectations. Will this affect the promotion schedule of 'The Martian'?" Luo Jinnian thought for a moment and replied: "No. Proceed according to the original timeline."

The release date for "The Martian" is set for the sixth week after Robinson's new book goes on sale, allowing ample time for comparisons between the two works to become unavoidable.

Kim Stanley Robinson's name is an indisputable landmark in the science fiction world. When Luo Jinnian was typing the first draft of "The Martian," he didn't consciously think about this person, but Robinson's shadow always stood quietly on that red wasteland. When he wrote the "Mars Trilogy," Luo Jinnian hadn't yet learned to read in this world.

This series of books has been translated into thousands of languages ​​and holds an unshakeable place in the hearts of hard science fiction readers worldwide. He has spent thirty years in that field, like someone who no longer needs to prove anything.

Robinson's new book is scheduled for publication in the spring, about six months after the planned release of *The Martian*. From a timeline perspective, there's no direct competition between the two works. However, market judgments often don't rely on the timeline discrepancy, but rather on the weight given to "genre" and "topic" in the reader's mind—when two works with similar themes appear around the same time, their names are automatically placed side-by-side, regardless of whether this juxtaposition is fair.

Some articles within the industry used cautious language to discuss this coincidence. Someone placed a review of Robinson's new book and another short article mentioning *The Martian* on the same page, creating a visual symmetry between the "orthodox" and the "new generation" on the same page. That layout reminded Luo Jinnian of a book he had read before, about how to create a "sense of confrontation" in the publishing industry—not through direct opposition, but through a misalignment of timelines and an overlap of narrative order, connecting two originally independent events into a single line in the reader's mind.

Robinson was asked about the topic again in a subsequent interview. His answer remained appropriate, but he mentioned something that others might consider just polite, but which Luo Jinnian felt carried more weight: "Every generation of creators is reimagining Mars in their own way. I look forward to seeing the same land from different perspectives." He said that in a very calm tone.

When Luo Jinnian read that interview, he was revising the second half of "The Martian." He paused, took a sip of water, and went over the passage in his mind twice. The phrase "the same land from different perspectives" was both true and a dividing line.

It marks the dividing line between two different paths in a gentle way.

The soil of one road has been turned over many times, and every ridge has been marked on the old map. Even the stones by the roadside are numbered. The first footprints have just been made on the other road. The fallen leaves covering it have not yet been completely compacted, and even where it ultimately leads is not yet fully determined.

He continued revising. During that time, he noticed a detail—the cover designers of Robinson's new book and *The Martian* formed a certain stylistic contrast. One used cool colors, a grand, wide-angle perspective to look down on the entire planet from orbit; the other used warm colors, a macro, ground-level perspective to look at the horizon from a person's shoulder height. When they were displayed side by side on the browsers of the same group of readers, they created an unspoken distance: one was about how the world was built, the other was about how a person survives in a world that has already been built.

When Luo Jinnian saw the two covers, he recalled a quote he had copied before: "True masters never belittle their opponents; they simply make their own path clearer as they walk it." He had confirmed in his mind that the *Mars Trilogy* was a well-established city, old and beautiful. *The Martian*, on the other hand, was a tent pitched in the wilderness, next to a freshly turned potato field, with wet food made from water and hydrazine roasting over a fire.

They didn't need to compete for first or second place.

But the outside world sees it differently. The city and the tent will be placed on the same map, examined by the same group of travelers. Some of those examining the map will head towards the city, some towards the tent, and some will stand between the two, comparing their building materials, design language, and lifespan, before making their own choice. And the results of those choices will exert an invisible force on the unnamed dividing line between the city and the tent.

Moreover, the media is also fueling the flames.

The twilight of Langya City was settling on the branches and leaves of that tree, dyeing the entire canopy a heavy, slightly reddish brown. In the distance, a few birds returning to their nests skimmed over the treetops, their wings gleaming in the slanting sunlight, like seams being slowly welded onto a bridge.

After finishing revising the last few pages of "The Martian," Luo Jinnian closed his laptop, stood up, and walked to the window.