Cheng Xueming, you really are twisted. (Asking for monthly votes)

Lunch at Yanda was spent with Feng Jiayou, Huang Beijia, and Cha Jianying sitting together.

“Hey, Jiayou, how come your husband didn’t come for lunch today?” Huang Beijia asked casually as they finished their meal in the cafeteria. She found it strange not to see Jiayou’s husband—normally, the two always ate together.

“He… took the day off today, had something else to do,” Feng Jiayou replied. All morning, she had been anxiously waiting for news, hoping her husband would return from meeting with the top leader and share what had transpired.

After dinner last night, she’d overheard her parents mention the likely topic: the manuscript. After all, it involved the reforms. Meetings at the top were still ongoing, and though there were daily news bulletins, Jiayou herself felt there was no rush, but her father thought otherwise. The tension made Jiayou’s otherwise joyful heart remain taut all day.

“Took a day off? That’s rare! Even the sturdy men from northern Shaanxi fall ill sometimes? He looked full of spirit when I saw him yesterday,” Huang Beijia said, misunderstanding as most leaves at that time were for illness.

“He’s not sick, just has other matters to attend to!” Jiayou nearly blurted out that her Xue Min wasn’t sick at all—he’d been invited to Zhonghai by the top leader!

Zhonghai! Beijia, Jianying, do you even realize what that means?

“Oh! As long as he’s not sick,” Beijia quickly responded, while Cha Jianying nodded without commenting further.

“Beijia, Jianying, how about we go see a movie together this Saturday night? I heard the auditorium will be showing an internal reference film, that Japanese one, ‘Manhunt’. Let’s go together?” Feng Jiayou said, temporarily putting thoughts of her husband aside as she teased her friends, remembering the stack of movie tickets she had.

These two had secretly written love letters to her husband, even buying movie tickets themselves and slipping them into envelopes. Just how sneaky could they be? And they didn’t even invite her to join them! If only she’d known they were so daring, she should have joined in, too—used a pen name to write a letter even bolder and more racy than theirs, just to see how her husband would react!

“A movie? This Saturday… I might not have time,” Huang Beijia’s cheeks instantly flushed as she tried hard to refuse. “I’m free on Sunday, though. Maybe we could go then?”

She was hardly going to admit that Saturday was the day she’d arranged to see “Manhunt” with Wrangler Lao Xu. Jiayou coming along would just ruin everything. Better to decline and suggest postponing, in case Jiayou decided to go by herself and exposed her secret at the auditorium.

So, Jiayou, Jianying, don’t go on Saturday. Let’s go Sunday instead—I’ll watch it with you all again, no problem.

“I’m busy Saturday too, how about Sunday?” Cha Jianying echoed, stealing a furtive glance at Jiayou, worried that her secret had been found out and this was a deliberate test.

Like Beijia, she’d also arranged to see “Manhunt” with Wrangler Lao Xu on Saturday. No way did she want Jiayou and Beijia to play the third wheel. If the two of them found out, she’d die of embarrassment.

Beijia’s suggestion was perfect—Sunday it would be!

Both turned to Jiayou, waiting for her decision. If she insisted on going Saturday, they’d have to invent some excuse to keep her away. Neither wanted her there on Saturday night.

“Oh? If neither of you are free, then Sunday it is,” Jiayou agreed, though she inwardly sneered at their obvious excuses. She keenly anticipated Saturday night’s arrival.

Moreover, Feng Jiayou, Huang Beijia, and Cha Jianying were hardly the only ones at Yanda looking forward to Saturday night. There were over thirty others—Jiayou herself had more than thirty tickets. Who knew how many were secretly arranging dates like Beijia and Jianying? Would the whole auditorium greet each other with, “Oh, you’re meeting Wrangler Lao Xu too? Why is everyone meeting Wrangler Lao Xu?”

“Alright, Sunday it is. And Jiayou, bring your husband too!” Beijia said, deeply relieved. Cha Jianying nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll ask him,” Jiayou replied. Sunday was fine, but if her husband still went on Saturday, she couldn’t be blamed for not being a good friend! Besides, if he didn’t show on Saturday, Beijia and Jianying would be stood up by Wrangler Lao Xu.

“I wonder when Yanjing Literature is arranging that symposium for Wrangler Lao Xu?” Cha Jianying brought up another topic.

“Not so soon, I think. Didn’t Dening say yesterday they needed Wrangler Lao Xu’s input first, and would be inviting other industry experts? That’ll take at least until next week,” Beijia guessed. She’d scheduled her movie with Wrangler Lao Xu for this Saturday, and it was only Tuesday—four or five days away. If she could meet him sooner at the symposium, all the better! If the symposium did happen this week, she’d pester the editor Bai Ling until she got to attend.

But the timeline seemed unlikely—the movie was sure to come before the symposium.

“True enough,” Cha Jianying nodded; she wanted to meet Wrangler Lao Xu just as eagerly.

The three walked off, talking and laughing, their voices fading into the distance.

Meanwhile, after parting from his mother-in-law and Liu Xinwu, Cheng Xue Min rode his bicycle for over an hour, arriving at Yanda a little after 3 p.m. Feng Jiayou had no classes that afternoon, so Xue Min decided to pick her up directly rather than go to the affiliated high school.

Passing the university’s mailroom, he glanced over—no mail under Feng Jiayou’s name, so he kept riding. But then, suddenly, he braked and turned back.

“Is that a reply from Shanghai Literature?” he wondered, spotting “Kuang Yalan” on the blackboard. That was the name of the female protagonist from the manuscript he’d sent to Shanghai Literature! He hadn’t realized right away as he’d ridden past.

“You’re Kuang Yalan, young man?” The mailroom attendant eyed him suspiciously as Xue Min asked for Kuang Yalan’s mail. Clearly, the name was a woman’s—was this young man trying to claim someone else’s letter?

“Sir, it should be from ‘Shanghai Literature.’ Could you check for me?” Xue Min explained, smiling.

“Wait a moment, let me have a look!” The attendant nodded and began searching for the letter, muttering, “You look familiar. Weren’t you the one who came by before, asking about Wrangler Lao Xu from Yanda?”

“Yes! Your memory’s impressive! I came by last week with a classmate—my Chinese major friends said Wrangler Lao Xu’s manuscripts were sent from here!”

“This place is truly a lucky spot for getting published!” He silently hoped the old man’s memory wasn’t too good, or everyone would soon know that he was Wrangler Lao Xu. Last time, the acceptance letter from Yanjing Literature had also been sent here, and he and Jiayou had picked it up together. Back then, the recipient’s name was Wrangler Lao Xu.

So the old man remembered, but not too much. The legend of Wrangler Lao Xu among Yanda’s students had started at this very mailroom.

“That’s right! I’ve seen Wrangler Lao Xu here two or three times,” the old man said, in high spirits. When he found the letter, his expression changed to surprise: “Well, would you look at that—this is indeed a letter from Shanghai Literature!”

“What, you write articles too? Why not submit to Yanjing Literature like Wrangler Lao Xu, instead of sending it so far to Shanghai? And the recipient’s name is a woman’s—surely not yours?”

He was genuinely surprised to see the letter from Shanghai Literature—was this young man also submitting work, just like Wrangler Lao Xu?

Ever since Wrangler Lao Xu had emerged from this mailroom, Yanda students had become quite enthusiastic. Many asked about the author’s looks, department, class, relationship status, and some started sending their own manuscripts from here, hoping to catch some of that literary luck.

The mailroom had become a lively place.

But this recipient was a woman, and the claimant was a young man.

“Are you collecting this on someone’s behalf? Let me see your student ID,” the old man demanded.

Xue Min was put on the spot—he wasn’t even a Yanda student, so he certainly didn’t have an ID.

“No, no, I’m not collecting for someone else! I am Kuang Yalan!” Xue Min hurried to explain. “The heroine of my story is named Kuang Yalan!”

The old man looked skeptical, so Xue Min quickly added, “That’s right, my protagonist is Kuang Yalan.”

“Ah, that makes sense!” With a knowing look, the old man handed over the letter. “These days, you students all use flashy pen names like Wrangler Lao Xu—some use their male protagonists, others their female. But at least male students use male names, and female students use female names. But you, a male student, using a female protagonist’s name—now that’s unconventional!”

“Uh…” Xue Min was speechless—he’d just been called a pervert by an old man. In his submission to Shanghai Literature, all the characters were women. He would have used a male protagonist’s name if he’d had one!

“Young man, there are no shortcuts in writing. Trying to draw attention won’t work—you mustn’t indulge in such antics. I’d wager this is a rejection letter, given how thick it is.”

“Right, right, you’re absolutely right. I’ll change my ways!” Xue Min said earnestly as he took the letter and opened it on the spot.

To his delight, it was an acceptance letter, complete with payment and a sample issue of the magazine. The speed of Shanghai Literature was truly impressive.

“…Young man, you’re incredible,” the attendant muttered, his face twitching as he stared at the payment slip. He’d just been lecturing this young man about shortcuts, sure it was a rejection, and here was a payment slip right before his eyes!

For a moment, the old man was left utterly speechless.