Chapter 158: Well-Deserved [Fourth Outburst of the Day]

On Friday night, most students chose to properly relax, but Zhang Chu had to place cans of Red Bull on his computer desk and resume his work on the manuscript.

The hole you dig yourself, you have to finish filling it even if you have to cry!

[Richard Parker still stays with me. I have never forgotten him, I still see him in my dreams, mostly nightmares, but nightmares that carry the scent of love. That is the strange thing about human nature. It leaves me unable to understand how he could so casually abandon me, without saying goodbye in any way, not even looking back once. That pain was like a sharp axe hacking at my heart.]

Pi was named after a swimming pool, and Mamaji, his uncle, had taught him how to swim, which was also what allowed him to narrowly survive the storm.

This felt like Pi's memoir, recalling his life in India and his family's huge zoo, filled with all kinds of trees and animals.

Animal after animal was born from Zhang Chu's pen: the morning calls of cockatoos and howling monkeys serving as an alarm clock, bright-eyed otters seeing Pi off to school, tall and sturdy American bison, an orangutan stretching and yawning.

Life in the zoo seemed somewhat cluttered, yet full of fun and vibrant with life.

The happier the description of life, the more desolate the tragedy when it struck later. Zhang Chu was well-versed in this contrasting writing technique and skillfully applied it throughout.

People felt that animals could only be truly free when roaming wildly across the wilderness, but not all animals in the zoo necessarily yearned for that level of freedom.

With food, drink, and a veterinarian provided, they would show themselves to tourists when happy, or hide away when not. The treatment in a zoo was far better than that in a circus, as at least there was no beating.

Yet Richard Parker was not that kind of animal; it could bite a sheep to death right through an iron fence!

An untamed Bengal tiger and a frail teenager drifting together across the vast ocean—hunger could drive it to do anything.

...

Time quietly slipped away amidst the clatter of the keyboard. When Zhang Chu paused to rest, he saw that the chubby friend in his group chat had forwarded a Weibo post to him.

Curious, he opened it and found that the content was indeed related to him. The blue-v verified "China Good Literature" account had posted: "Tick-tock! There are only two days left before the submission deadline for the China Good Literature major essay competition. Friends who have not yet submitted their entries, please hurry up! This competition is hosted by the Chinese Writers Association, and the famous young writer @Zhang Chu, along with numerous talented scholars from Yenching University, is participating, striving to become the biggest winner!"

"What is wrong with this account?"

Zhang Chu was deeply annoyed. How he had ended up entering this contest—wasn't it completely obvious to them!

Having finally managed to dispatch the instigator Tang Wanli, the editor here was now jumping into the fray to stir up trouble.

Now they were brazenly leaking this news online. What would happen if his *Life of Pi* wasn't finished in time? Furthermore, what was this nonsense about entering with numerous talented scholars? Did the participation of the others have anything to do with him?

He simply used his computer to open Weibo, found the post published by the official account, and clicked on the comments below, only to discover a hint of gunpowder in the air.

Instead of highlighting the other participants, the official account chose to emphasize Zhang Chu and those from Yenching University. It was purely an attempt to provoke a fight; this type of editor was everywhere on the internet.

They chased only clicks and exposure, completely ignoring the consequences.

Zhang Chu refused to believe that there were no participants from other schools or institutions.

In the comments below, quite a few people had indeed taken the bait. People actually fell for such an obvious provocation post, and Zhang Chu could only say those people were too young, too simple.

"What competition is this? I was wondering why Big Zhang Chu's recent update frequency has dropped noticeably."

"Yenching University entering as a group? Are they trying to win with sheer numbers?"

"I represent Renmin University and I refuse to accept this! Why wasn't it announced earlier that there's this essay contest? How is anyone supposed to write something in two days?"

"Zhang Chu and the others are too despicable, trying to monopolize the rankings using this trick. Why didn't they just organize a Yanyuan essay contest themselves!"

"Heh, those Yenching people are such scheming bitches, submitting their entries as a group right before the deadline for fear of being discovered earlier. Are they really that lacking in confidence?"

"Yenching University isn't all that great after all. Good thing I didn't go."

"I really couldn't tell, Zhang Chu turned out to be such a person..."

"What kind of ghost essay contest is this? I've never heard of it before!"

Looking at the comments below, Zhang Chu didn't even know what to say. At the very least, Tang Wanli had kept his registration a secret from him several days prior.

He refused to believe that the staff in charge of the contest only found out about these people's identities just now. It was clearly a hype stunt orchestrated right before the deadline to boost exposure!

Zhang Chu shook his head. Such tactics were utterly tacky and full of petty parochialism. Couldn't the Writers Association find a few big names to hype up instead of pushing him and Yenching University to the forefront?

Ordinary netizens didn't feel much, but students from other schools felt rather indignant. It was supposed to be "China Good Literature"—how did it end up looking like "Yenching University Good Literature"?

Tsinghua University, which had never been on good terms with Yenching University, especially hoisted the banner of mockery. Although the two top universities were right next to each other and their students frequently visited one another, there was a long-standing feud between them.

"Even if you calculate down to your last breath, it will all end up like fetching water in a bamboo basket—completely in vain."

"There are still two days left. Let's show them how much can be accomplished in just two days!"

"Does anyone want to enter? Let's piss those people off."

"Yes, yes, yes. I happened to have written an essay earlier, I can just send it right over now."

"I'll go ask the clubs at school. They should have a lot of stockpiled work from before; maybe we can snatch the award away from Zhang Chu."

"I'll go check the scope of the contest. What if something I wrote previously wins an award!"

...

The editor in charge of operating the China Good Literature Weibo account was overjoyed at this moment. Previously, every one of those Weibo posts had only received a dozen or so replies, with slightly more popular ones reaching around a hundred.

Now, after processing the news just a little bit—how could there be any heat without a quarrel?

"It looks like we'll be receiving a lot of submissions in the next two days. At least this task is finally completed."

Originally, this "China Good Literature" essay competition was only aimed at nationwide literature enthusiasts and writers, and many netizens had no idea it even existed.

It couldn't compare to eye-catching shows like Super Girl or Super Boy. Literature was declining more and more in modern times, and people weren't enthusiastic about this field. Very few could calm down to read properly, let alone write well.

Now, after this whole commotion, quite a few people curiously searched for the essay contest. The search index and Weibo follower count made that clear.

China Good Literature finally felt like it was truly facing the whole country and all sectors of society!

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