I asked you to write a light novel, but you wrote about living?

Yu Wen raised his eyes, a sharp glint in them for the first time:

"So you're saying he's resigned to his fate? Quite the opposite. A person who has thought through life and death and is still willing to live each day to the fullest is more clear-headed and courageous than many people in this world who live in a daze and muddle through their days."

Lu Zhao, who loves to joke around the most in the study room, couldn't come up with a single witty remark at this moment.

He remained silent for a long while before whispering, "He didn't resign himself to fate. He saw through it all, but still chose to live well."

Jiang Ci didn't speak, but just looked at the face on the screen and let out a soft sigh of relief.

She recalled the day she first saw the book. There were 14,000 people in the Spark Cup, and they were about to be eliminated by the system. In the entire live broadcast room, including the four of them, there were only four people.

Who could have imagined that the young man who quietly typed in the deserted live stream room would one day stand in front of two million people and say such a thing?

"You said that I wrote 'To Live' to coax these people who are trampled underfoot into accepting their fate with tears in their eyes."

Yu Wen shook his head:

"But when I wrote about Fugui, I never intended to tell them that their suffering was deserved and that they should just accept it."

"I want those who, like Fugui, have been trampled underfoot by fate to see that what you have endured is not numbness or resignation."

"That was a person who, even in the most inhuman days, still wanted to live like a human being."

He paused, looked at the camera, and lowered his voice.

"You think they live a life where they can see the end from the beginning, a life without hope..."

But the sun, it is both sunset and sunrise at every moment.

As it extinguishes its glow and descends the mountain, gathering the desolate remnants of the setting sun, it is simultaneously burning brightly on the other side, climbing to the summit and spreading its blazing morning light.

"On the side you cannot see, it is dawning."

Those audience members from the lower district who had just been doubting their own tears were stunned.

Those influential figures who had previously taken turns "consulting" were now stunned.

We looked at each other, and neither of us said a word.

They came with the intention of causing him trouble.

But now, that thought, along with that air of superiority and composure, has vanished.

During the live stream, Yu Wen hadn't finished speaking yet.

He looked at the line of words that came from the "cloud," paused for a moment, and then solemnly said:

I've always thought that ugly women create beautiful women.

I often thought that fools had brought up wise men.

I often thought that it was the cowards who highlighted the heroes.

I have always believed that it was sentient beings who enlightened the Buddha.

"I often thought that it was us, the people in the lower city, whom you treated like ants, who provided you with energy, grew food, and tightened screws for you in the radioactive dust, that upheld the clean and respectable image of your upper city."

At this moment, all the holographic bullet comments around Yu Wen stopped scrolling.

"It is the ants that hold up the clouds..."

Pei Zhixing murmured this sentence, and put the cup of coffee he was holding back on the table.

The question posed by that "scholar from the upper district" was meant to reduce Yu Wen, along with the entire lower district, to the category of "resigned ants."

But Yu Wen turned the tables and flipped those four words over completely, saying, "You're saying we're ants who can't even take care of our own lives?"

Well, it is these ants who have supported your pristine cloud.

Pei Zhixing leaned back in his chair, his voice no longer carrying the certainty it had before:

"He's not trying to prove his own innocence; he's trying to exonerate the entire downtown area."

Zhao Hongbo squinted, his breathing becoming somewhat erratic.

"You think you're standing on a cloud, looking down on us in this quagmire? You're wrong..."

"Without these hands tightening screws in the radioactive dust, where would your spotless and respectable Upper City come from?"

"It is precisely because of people like Fugui, and people like us who struggle, endure, and support this world at the lowest level, that your lofty 'cleanliness' has a place to rest."

Lu Chenyuan slowly stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside the window was the downtown area, which he had looked at for over twenty years but had never really paid attention to, with lights flickering in the dust and haze.

From as far back as he can remember, he believed that he was standing on a cloud, which was only natural.

It is people like him who uphold order in this world.

But that young man is now telling him that he was wrong...

He is not a condescending observer.

He was the one who was lifted up.

Lu Chenyuan reached out and placed his fingertips on the cold glass, remaining silent for a long time.

During the live stream, Yu Wen looked at the camera and at the two million pairs of eyes that had lit up again.

At that moment, all the nonchalance on his face vanished, replaced by a heavy seriousness:

"I wrote 'To Live' not to coax you into accepting your fate, but to make you see clearly that you have never been some kind of resigned ants."

Throughout history, we have had those who bury themselves in hard work, those who fight desperately, those who plead for the people, and those who sacrifice themselves for the sake of justice. Even the so-called "official histories," which are essentially genealogies for emperors and generals, often cannot obscure their brilliance.

"These people are the backbone of this world."

He looked into those two million eyes, and his voice unconsciously rose.

"And you, you who tighten screws in radioactive dust, sort waste in the black market, and grit your teeth to get by even at the lowest point, you are the backbone of this city."

"It is you who hold up this world."

……

As a teacher who has taught in the Xiacheng District for many years, Chen Jianjia understands the weight of these words better than many people in front of the screen.

The children she taught grew up hearing the same phrase: "You're from the downtown area, accept your fate."

Many of them gradually came to believe it, bowing their heads and bending over, the light in their eyes slowly fading away.

She tried to stop them, but she was too weak on her own.

But at this moment, this young man on the screen, in front of two million people, overturned the "acceptance of fate" that weighed on the backs of countless children.

He told them, "You are not ants, you are the backbone."

Chen Jianjia's eyes slowly warmed up.

She recalled the day of the home visit, and the man sitting in his rusty wheelchair with his back ramrod straight.

His straight spine supported more than just himself.

During the live stream, when Yu Wen said, "It is you who have supported this whole world," the surrounding chat fell silent for a second or two.

Then, like a dam bursting, it surged up.

……

……

P.S.: The author of "Me and the Temple of Earth" is Mr. Shi Tiesheng; the author of "Have the Chinese Lost Their Self-Confidence?" is Mr. Lu Xun.

P.S.: I've read "Me and the Temple of Heaven" many times, and this is my favorite part.