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

When Carter returned to the West Coast region, Ninth Coast City was still shrouded in the early morning sea fog.

The hovercar passed through the cross-sea elevated road. In the distance, tidal energy towers stood on the dark sea, with dark blue beams of light slowly rising from the bottom of the towers, making the surging waves look like some kind of dark metallic scales.

The assistant from the West Coast branch of Weiguang Literature was already waiting downstairs. Upon seeing him get out of the car, he immediately came forward to report:

"Mr. Carter, the operations and copyright departments are already in the conference room. They want to confirm the promotion schedule with you first regarding the online release process of the English version of 'To Live'."

Carter didn't stop; he simply raised his hand to unbutton his coat and replied calmly, "The meeting is postponed."

The assistant paused for a moment, then quickly followed up, "So, what do you need me to arrange now?"

"I don't need anything." Carter stepped into the elevator, watching the metal doors slowly close. "I need to translate first."

In this day and age, this statement sounds quite strange.

The West Coast branch of Weiguang Literature has a complete cross-language content processing system. If Carter is willing, the platform's main brain can translate "To Live" into English in ten seconds. Not only is the grammar correct, but it can also automatically adapt the culture according to the acceptance habits of West Coast readers, replacing those unfamiliar Eastern rural names, land relations and old-fashioned customs with expressions that are easier for readers to understand.

But Carter knew very well that what he made might be smoother, safer, and easier to pass market evaluation, but it would never be the book "To Live" that Yu Wen had given him.

Back in his office, he didn't turn on the meeting system or connect to the AI ​​translation module; he simply split his computer into two windows, left and right.

On the left is the original Chinese manuscript of "To Live", and on the right is a blank English document.

He originally thought the real difficulties would be in the main text.

For example, those earthy Eastern terms of address, the non-standard yet vibrant tone of Fugui's speech, the weight in Jiazhen's silence, and the desolate yet peaceful feeling when Lao Niu appears.

But when he actually started, Carter found himself struggling to even get to the first line.

Because the first thing he had to deal with was the book title.

Alive.

Only two words.

However, there is no exact equivalent word for these two words in English.

Carter stared at the screen for a long time before typing "be alive" into the document.

This is the most direct expression, and the meaning is very clear: he is still alive and has not yet died.

It is clean, accurate, and avoids misunderstanding, but precisely because it is so accurate, it appears rather thin.

It's like a lifeline still beating on a hospital monitor, only proving that someone isn't dead yet, but unable to capture the state of Fugui, who, after being repeatedly crushed by fate, still sits on the edge of the field and slowly speaks.

He deleted the phrase and typed "survive".

This word seems closer.

Fugui was indeed surviving. He survived the squandering of his family fortune, the conscription, the famine, and the loss of one loved one after another.

Carter quickly shook his head again.

"Survive" carries an inherent sense of statistics after a disaster, like a cold line in an accident report: survivor.

It emphasizes surviving danger, but what truly makes people silent in "To Live" is not that Fugui "wins" from suffering, but that he doesn't even have a victory to speak of, yet he still continues to live.

"Exist" was also briefly considered by him.

To exist, to eke out a living, merely to maintain life.

This word has a negative philosophical feel, as if people are merely passively existing in the world, without quality of life or spiritual meaning.

Carter thought about it and ultimately deleted it.

Fu Gui certainly suffered; one could even say that his life was almost hollowed out by fate. But this old man was not a lifeless shell.

He could reminisce, he could talk, he could chat with the old ox, and he could recount those things that hurt the most, in a calm yet almost cruel tone.

Finally, Carter focused his attention on "live".

This word is the simplest and closest to "living" itself.

It can be either survival or life;

It can mean that life continues, or it can mean that a person has truly experienced their own life.

However, if only the solitary "Live" is used as the title, it seems like a command or some kind of inspirational slogan, which loses the sense of destiny that the original text conveys, of being pushed forward by fate.

Carter leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.

"Damn it, I underestimated this..."

(Damn it, I oversimplified things...)

For the first time, he realized that he might have underestimated the weight of those two Chinese characters.

Translation is not simply replacing one word with another.

Especially for a book like "To Live," the title is not a label, but rather the climax of the entire book.

If you make a mistake in the first step, no matter how beautifully you turn the page afterward, it will just be another exquisitely written foreign novel.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned on the communicator.

The message was written in English, and after being automatically translated by the communication system, it would be displayed in Chinese on Yu Wen's terminal.

Carter thought for a moment and instead of asking "Which word do you think is better?", he wrote down his confusion as completely as possible.

[Mr. Yu, I apologize for bothering you. I have begun translating "To Live," but I need your opinion on the title first.]

There are many words in English that can express "being alive".

"Be alive" is the most direct, emphasizing that one is not yet dead, but it sounds too much like a state of being.

The word "survive" implies surviving hardship, similar to Fugui's life experience, but it emphasizes the outcome after a disaster.

The word "exist" leans towards existence or mere survival, carrying a negative connotation, which I personally believe is unsuitable for Fugui.

【"Live" is the most basic word and has literary potential, but when used alone as a book title, it easily becomes a commanding "live on."】

I'd like to hear your thoughts; after all, this book is primarily yours.

Carter did not receive a reply immediately after sending the message.

There is a time difference between the West Coast and the Eastern District. Based on the time, it should not be morning yet in Yuwen's area.

Carter put the communicator aside and looked back at the Chinese title on the screen.

He wasn't actually sure if Yu Wen was familiar with English.

This uncertainty is not a sign of disregard, but rather an instinctive judgment stemming from professional habits.

Many excellent authors do not need to know foreign languages, and that does not prevent them from writing great works.

But this time, Carter still felt that Yu Wen should be involved in deciding the book title.

Because only the person who wrote this book knows whether "living" leans towards survival, existence, or something more difficult to translate.

A few minutes later, the communicator vibrated slightly.

Yu Wen replied to the message.

There are only two English words.

【To Live】

Carter paused for a moment.

He stared at those two words for a long time.

To Live.

"To Live!"

This infinitive structure is light, yet it perfectly preserves the directional sense of the verb.

It is not a static state of life, and it does not mean that Fugui is not dead yet;

It's not a statistical result after the disaster, nor is it about his survival from suffering.

It's more like a continuous action.

Fate kept pressing down on him; he didn't win, but he also didn't leave this world.

He just kept walking forward.

Carter's eyes slowly brightened.

"To Live" sounds more like a verb than "Life," cleaner than "Living," and less like a disaster report than "Survive."

It's like an unfinished sentence, and it fits the description perfectly:

Humans live for the sake of living itself, not for anything beyond living.

The slight irritation that had been weighing on Carter's brow finally began to dissipate.

He suddenly realized that Yu Wen hadn't explained anything to him.

The young man simply presented him with the most accurate answer.

What truly stirred Carter's heart was this accuracy.

A young author who came from the lower district of the Eastern region, despite the barriers of language, region, and culture, is able to directly capture the essence of the Chinese and English book titles.

For the first time, Carter realized with such clarity that true talent can transcend culture.

The rest is for him, the translator, to understand.

Carter didn't reply with many pleasantries, only saying:

I understand, thank you.

He then switched back to the document and typed the book title at the top of the blank page.

To Live

Two English words hung silently in the center of the screen.

Outside the window, the sea fog was slowly receding from between the high-rise buildings of Ninth Coast City, the light of the tidal energy tower in the distance was gradually dimming, and the first rays of dawn fell on the gray-blue sea.

Carter looked at the book title and finally began translating the first sentence of the text.