Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

3:21 a.m.

Editors Group.

Finally, someone couldn't hold back any longer.

【@zhouming】

[You spend twenty minutes checking someone's age?]

Zhou Ming glanced at it.

I thought about it.

reply.

【eighteen.】

The group chat was quiet.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

What do you mean by eighteen?

[When registering a "Zhu Xian" account.]

There was silence for a few more seconds.

Then the message instantly flooded the screen.

【? ? ? ? ? ? 】

Holy crap?!

Are you sure?

[That old bastard was eighteen last year? ???]

【Wait, wait, wait, wait!】

So, he's nineteen now?

Lin Yuan is nineteen.

Don't scare me.

[Same year and same month. 】

【Grass.】

【No way, is it really that much of a coincidence?】

[Zhou Ming, don't joke around. This joke isn't funny at all.]

Zhou Ming did not reply.

Because the editor-in-chief, Jiang Cheng, sent me a private message.

Only one sentence.

I have requested permission to verify my real-name information.

Zhou Ming stared at the line of text.

My heart started racing for no reason.

One minute.

Two minutes.

three minutes.

Jiang Cheng did not send any further messages.

Zhou Ming couldn't help but ask:

Editor-in-Chief?

No reply.

Another half minute passed.

The phone rang.

Jiang Cheng.

Zhou Ming answered the call.

"Feed?"

There was no immediate response on the other end of the phone.

Zhou Ming waited.

About five seconds.

Jiang Cheng finally spoke.

The voice was very calm.

It was unusually calm.

"Zhou Ming."

"Um."

"What you picked up back then wasn't a dark horse."

Zhou Ming's heart sank.

Jiang Cheng paused for a moment.

Real-name authentication.

"Lin Yuan".

The room quieted down.

Zhou Ming remained silent.

But for some reason, that afternoon resurfaced in my mind.

Newcomer submission.

Chapter Seven.

20,000 words.

"Zhu Xian"

he asks:

Have you had any writing experience before?

The person replied:

[This is my first time submitting a submission, and I've never written one before.]

First time submission.

Eighteen years old.

"Zhu Xian"

Zhou Ming slowly raised his hand.

Cover your face.

A long time passed.

Squeezing out a sentence through his fingers:

"Holy crap..."

……

Nine o'clock the next morning.

Jinghua Film Academy.

The campus was still somewhat deserted after the Spring Festival holiday ended.

Lin Yuan, wearing a mask, came out of the cafeteria.

Soy milk in the left hand.

Two steamed buns in the right hand.

My phone hasn't stopped ringing since just now.

Fei Zhao made three phone calls.

Sun Heming, two.

Gu Zhiwan sent a question mark.

Chen Mo sent me a screenshot of a trending topic.

Zhou Zixuan is the simplest.

[You old fool, have you seen the trending topics?]

Lin Yuan glanced at it.

No reply.

The dorm staff already laid it all out last night.

I'm too lazy to do it again today.

They had just reached the vicinity of the teaching building when...

A sudden commotion arose ahead.

"Lin Yuan!"

He stopped in his tracks.

A dozen meters away.

Reporters, who had somehow gotten wind of the situation, had already gathered around.

camera.

microphone.

Mobile phone.

They all aimed at him.

"Director Lin, has the overseas distribution plan for 'Initial D' been finalized?"

Do you have any plans for your next film?

Are you personally satisfied with the box office of 4.2 billion?

"I heard that a Hollywood company has already extended an invitation to you, is that true?"

One problem after another.

Lin Yuan took a bite of the steamed bun.

He said vaguely:

"One at a time."

The reporters quieted down a bit.

A few common questions.

box office.

the film.

music.

Next steps.

Lin Yuan's answers were all very simple.

Until they reached the back of the crowd.

A young reporter suddenly raised his microphone.

"Lin Yuan!"

The sound was very loud.

The surrounding problems were suppressed.

Lin Yuan looked up.

The reporter stared at him.

"There are rumors circulating online that you and that old scoundrel from Mount Akina are the same person."

The surroundings fell silent instantly.

The reporter who was just asking about the movie has fallen silent.

The photographer instinctively zoomed in with the lens.

Dozens of eyes fell on Lin Yuan.

Some people even held their breath.

The young reporter continued to ask:

Is this true?

Lin Yuan was still holding half a steamed bun in his hand.

He thought for a moment.

Zhou Zixuan asked this question last night as well.

I've answered this once already.

It doesn't seem to make much difference.

So he nodded.

"Um."

The reporter was stunned.

Lin Yuan added a sentence.

"it's me."

The wind blew past the teaching building.

No one spoke.

two seconds.

three seconds.

next moment.

The entire group of reporters—

Blasted.

"Is it really you?!"

"You wrote 'Zhu Xian'?!"

"Dragon Raja too?!"

"What about 'The Rural Teacher'?!"

"You also wrote 'Murder on the Orient Express'?!"

More than a dozen questions came at once.

Lin Yuan took half a step back.

I glanced down at the soy milk in my hand.

I kind of regret it.

I should have finished breakfast first.

……

9:07.

The first live video has been uploaded.

9:09.

#Lin Yuan Admits to Being the Old Scoundrel of Mount Akina#

It trended on social media.

9:12.

Literary forum.

Below the timeline post from last night.

The comments section, which had been debating whether it was "pure coincidence," suddenly stopped arguing.

Someone sent me the interview video.

It only lasted a dozen seconds.

reporter:

"There are rumors circulating online that you and that old scoundrel from Mount Akina are the same person. Is that true?"

In the lens.

The 19-year-old director, who had just won 4.2 billion yuan at the box office, was holding half a steamed bun in his hand.

nod.

"Um."

"it's me."

The comment section was silent for a full minute.

Then.

Last night, the book reviewer updated their status.

No analysis was performed.

There is no long post.

There is only one period.

【. 】

The first comment below:

Teacher, please say something.

Article :

[Teacher, there are 24 hours in a day.]

Article :

[Teacher, what about the Basic Law?]

Five minutes later.

The book reviewer replied:

Don't ask anymore.

I want to know now too.

But what truly silenced the literary world was another issue.

Someone suddenly asked in the comments section of the trending topic:

【etc.】

Is Lin Yuan nineteen years old this year?

Someone replied very quickly.

【Yes. 】

The man then asked:

When was the game "Zhu Xian" launched?

Last summer.

The comment section suddenly fell silent.

A few seconds later.

A highly-rated reply slowly climbed up the list.

【so……】

[Was he writing "Zhu Xian" when he was eighteen?]

No one answered.

Because everyone is calculating.

Eighteen years old.

Others have just finished the college entrance examination.

Some people are traveling.

Someone is playing video games.

Some people are researching whether university dormitories have air conditioning.

Lin Yuan registered an account.

pen name--

Old scoundrel of Mount Akina.

Then I typed the first sentence.

Heaven and earth are not benevolent, and all things are dogs.

Ten minutes later.

#Lin Yuan wrote Zhu Xian at the age of eighteen#

It topped the trending searches.

And this time...

No one laughed anymore.