Chapter 241: Writing the Story You Like
Chapter 241: Writing the Story You Like
"Is this kind of answer really okay?" Judge Bao asked.
"Of course it's fine", Feng Bu Jue replied. "My editor won't mind. As for the TV station side... these days TV shows are pretty open. They let people say just about anything. My answer will probably be seen as a joke anyway." He paused. "But if you leave some editing space after this footage, you'll see that Oscar temporarily ran out of words."
"I'm curious", Xiao Tan asked, "how will other writers view you after this episode finishes recording?" By now, Assass had climbed onto Xiao Tan's knees, extending its fluffy little paw to snatch food from Xiao Tan's plate, while Xiao Tan showed no intention of stopping it.
"Actually, we talked both before and after the competition", Feng Bu Jue said. "Although my net worth, popularity, and influence pale in comparison to those six, we all got along harmoniously. Not the superficially polite kind of harmony, but genuinely enjoyable conversations."
"Isn't it usually the case that colleagues are rivals in the same field?" Judge Bao followed up.
"It depends... Old Bao, you're in the government with wide connections—you should understand. In any industry, there are always some despicable people. These individuals lack both talent and diligence, lingering around the lower-middle tiers. They spend all day using unfair competition tactics, being two-faced, and like to act as seniors in front of newbies, flaunting their superiority.
"For those peers who succeed more than them, they're always filled with envy, jealousy, and hatred—a severely imbalanced mindset. They don't try to catch up through effort but instead resort to underhanded methods or blame fate. These people are like stubborn grime in the corners of water pipes. They lack the ability to completely block the water flow but spare no effort polluting the source. It's hard to remove them entirely, yet leaving them unchecked is irritating. Because of these despicable people, many industries develop corrupted atmospheres. Under their influence, even originally principled practitioners collude. Some violations gradually become unspoken rules, forcing those who refuse to follow them to suffer silently."
"Men tend to become verbose when discussing careers, and Feng Bu Jue was no exception. 'So... in many fiercely competitive or direct industries, peers become rivals.' He shifted gears. 'However, the six people on-site are all top-tier professionals. At their level, such conflicts no longer exist. Since they've reached the pinnacle, each must possess exceptional qualities. Yet these despicable people often only see the flaws of successful individuals, ignoring their strengths and efforts.'"
"Since they've reached the pinnacle, each must possess exceptional qualities. Yet these despicable people often only see the flaws of successful individuals, ignoring their strengths and efforts.
"Among these six, three have net worths exceeding tens of millions. Besides, they're all cultured individuals. Even if direct conflicts of interest arise under specific circumstances, they'll resolve them through writerly means. Mutual attacks or public cursing would seem unrefined."
"Hehe... but when their fanbases watch this show, there'll definitely be endless verbal abuse, right?" Judge Bao added.
"This is called 'eunuchs panicking when the emperor doesn't care,'" Feng Bu Jue said. "These big names themselves might have just participated for fun, but their fanbases take it seriously. This show is inherently entertainment—after all, there's no objective hierarchy in literature. How can we determine superiority?
"In my opinion, whoever wins the final round won't be well-received. They'll definitely face backlash from other contestants' fanbases." He spread his hands helplessly. "That's why I don't want to get involved in any resurrection rounds. What if I somehow ranked seventh in online voting? The fanbase of the eighth-place guy would hate me to death!"
"You, who recklessly displays various industry toxic traits on the show, are afraid of backlash?" Xiao Tan lifted Assass, using the cat's face to hide his own as if Assass had spoken those words.
"Put down my cat", Feng Bu Jue said. "Cute acts are shameful."
As the three chatted, the recorded program entered its final segment.
Oscar approached the camera, and the scene transformed into a horror-movie-like darkness. A spotlight shone from directly above, illuminating Oscar standing solemnly in a single beam of light. "The moment everyone anticipated has finally arrived. The third and final round—the ultimate showdown—is about to begin." He extended one arm, pointing at the lens. "Welcome to the final confrontation—The Final Touch."
At this point, the TV screen displayed the third round's rules.
"This round is lengthy and complex", Oscar explained. "In this segment, each contestant will randomly draw an unfinished novel." He paused. "What we commonly call abandoned novels."
Facing the camera, Oscar continued, "These novels' authors, for various reasons, failed to complete their stories, halting abruptly midway through the plot. Our seven writers' task is to add flawless conclusions to these unfinished tales."
The camera switched angles. Oscar skillfully turned toward another camera. "The novels for this round were selected by our production team's three chief editors and numerous staff members. They read countless unfinished works, undergoing phased screening and discussions before selecting these seven novels. The workload was enormous—let's give these behind-the-scenes heroes some applause."
The on-site director cued the audience, who erupted into enthusiastic applause.
"Now, these seven novels have been printed and distributed", Oscar continued. As he spoke, several staff members approached the contestant area, handing each participant an envelope marked with a number.
"Each of our seven writers will receive one envelope. Inside each envelope lies a stack of bound A4 paper containing approximately 100,000 characters of an unfinished novel." Oscar explained. "Of course, we wouldn't require contestants to read the entire novel within the time limit. Therefore, each envelope also contains a special summary outline prepared by the editorial team of I'm a Writer. This outline includes existing character relationships and a general plot recap, around three thousand words in length."
Oscar gestured toward the giant screen. "This round's time limit is ninety minutes!" He snapped his fingers, and the countdown displayed as 90:00 on the screen. "When I say 'start,' each writer may open their envelope. Within ninety minutes, you must write a final chapter for the novel you've drawn. This concluding chapter will directly follow the last existing chapter of the book."
The camera swept across each contestant's face before returning to a close-up of Oscar. "During this round, the on-site audience friends can also view each book's outline to judge whether the writers' content aligns with the existing plot. However... the audience's scoring criteria for this round will focus solely on the final chapter itself. In other words, audience members simply need to horizontally compare the seven final chapters and choose the best one to cast their vote."
Oscar continued, "As I mentioned earlier, this final round accounts for 40% of the overall index. However, the on-site audience's vote only constitutes two-thirds of this 40%. The remaining one-third comes from our expert jury." He pointed toward the front row of the spectator stands. "Comprising our production team's three chief editors, fourteen editors, and three teachers invited from the writers' association, this twenty-member expert jury's votes will be converted into one-third of the index for the final round."
Oscar's tone deliberately created an increasingly tense atmosphere. "Our twenty expert teachers have already thoroughly read all seven novels in this third round. Most of them even participated in compiling the summary outlines. However, no one knew beforehand which contestant would draw which book. The teachers' scoring criteria will be stricter. They'll comprehensively evaluate the coherence level between the final chapter and the existing text, writing style consistency, plot logic, and numerous other factors regarding the writers' endings."
“Alright, I’m sure everyone’s been waiting eagerly. So now… the third round, The Final Touch… officially begins!” At Oscar’s command, the countdown on the massive screen flipped to 89:59 and began ticking down, each second accompanied by the irritating tick of a stopwatch through the television speakers.
“You don’t expect viewers at home to wait ninety minutes, do you?” Xiao Tan quipped.
“Of course not,” Feng Bu Jue replied. “This segment will be condensed to about ten minutes. They’ll fill the rest with post-production interviews and snippets of audience reactions. They’ll also insert the lottery segment and, naturally, advertisements.” He paused thoughtfully. “Oh, right—the ticking sound isn’t real. They added it in post-production. There were no background sound effects during the live recording.”
“Hiss… Wait, this round’s ninety minutes won’t be enough, right? Even skimming the beginning and end of a 100,000-character novel while skipping the middle and relying on a summary outline to fill in the blanks would take half an hour just to organize your thoughts before writing,” Judge Bao interjected.
“That’s a given,” Feng Bu Jue agreed. “Using the on-site input methods for impromptu writing, producing over 2,000 high-quality characters in an hour is already Class level. And I think endings are especially hard. Plus, these abandoned novels have so many unresolved plot holes. The live audience might not notice, but the expert judges score based on how well those holes are patched. You also need to mimic the original author’s style to avoid breaking immersion.”
“This already sounds super difficult…” Xiao Tan muttered.
Feng Bu Jue stretched lazily. “Not really. During this segment, most of the audience and staff were resting. Only four fixed cameras and two mobile ones on stage kept rolling. I even snuck off to chat with Oscar while she was reapplying makeup and took a bathroom break.”
“Wait—you left your seat? But you said time was tight!” Judge Bao exclaimed.
“You’ll see when you watch the results,” Feng Bu Jue said with a smirk.
Since this was the initial edit version, even the ten-minute segment was skipped quickly, jumping straight to the results announcement.
As Oscar counted down, a rapid loop of writers’ close-up shots flashed onscreen, the music intensifying until Oscar’s hoarse shout echoed: “Time’s up!”
He wiped sweat from his brow, exhaling sharply. “Finally, the moment of truth. Let me ask—” He turned to the contestants. “Did you all have enough time?”
“Nooooo~” the writers chorused in unison.
The scene mirrored an elementary classroom from decades past, a teacher asking, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” while students dragged out in unison: “Sciiiiientist~”
Feng Bu Jue stayed silent, prompting Oscar to approach him. “Contestant Bu Jue didn’t answer. Does that mean you had plenty of time?”
“Exactly,” Feng Bu Jue replied. “I finished the whole book.”
“In ninety minutes?!” Oscar’s eyes widened.
“Yes.”
“Did you use legendary speed-reading?” Oscar joked. “So, what did you think of the book?”
“It was well-written,” Feng Bu Jue deadpanned.
Oscar pulled a face at the camera. “Didn’t five minutes sound enough to give that review?”
The audience chuckled on cue.
“Alright, let’s start with Contestant #1’s work as usual.” Oscar steered the show back on track, approaching Xuantian Zong’s station. “Xuantian, drawing the #1 slot—does it feel extra stressful?”
“Not really,” Xuantian Zong shrugged. “It’s like getting a shot at the hospital—better to get it over with. I’d take #1 any day.” He grinned. “Whoever draws #1 next time can trade with me.”
By now, the contestants had relaxed, cracking jokes. With the writing phase over, the voting and interviews ahead felt leisurely.
“Let’s see Xuantian Zong’s ending,” Oscar announced.
The chapter appeared on the screen—around 1,700 characters. A quick reader could finish it in four or five minutes. Oscar’s job wasn’t easy—he had to read along with the audience and expert jury, then deliver instant critiques. But he wasn’t unprepared. An hour earlier, summaries of all seven novels had been displayed on a side screen, and Oscar had interviewed live viewers and experts, giving him a solid grasp of the plots.
The earlier interviews had revealed a split between general audiences and experts. Viewers thought Mo Buxiang’s online game novel was easiest to conclude, while Shucai Guaguo’s martial arts tale was hardest. Experts disagreed—Shucai Guaguo’s ending was actually the simplest, while Wo Yao Shangchang’s urban supernatural novel posed the greatest challenge.
“Xuantian Zong’s finale is before us,” Oscar said after a few minutes. “I’m sure we’re all stunned by this sub-2,000-character masterpiece.” He turned to Feng Bu Jue. “Bu Jue, what’s your take?”
“Why ask me?” Feng Bu Jue blinked innocently.
“Just share your thoughts,” Qishui chimed in, nearest to him. The other writers leaned in, curious.
“It’s like watching the first episode of a new anime,” Feng Bu Jue said. “By the end, you wonder, Did I miss an entire season? This feels like the finale!”
“Can you give an example?” Oscar pressed.
“Like The Strange Classmate Sitting Next to Me,” Feng Bu Jue replied.
“…Okay,” Oscar muttered. “I think I get it.”
Next, Bashan Ping, Shucai Guaguo, and Mo Buxiang revealed their endings one by one. Each writer’s work was stellar—faithfully emulating the original authors’ styles while crafting a powerful sense of closure. Even without the summaries, the chapters felt like satisfying conclusions.
As expected, the hardest book—Wo Yao Shangchang’s urban supernatural novel—fell short. Many viewers found the ending baffling, though the experts noted, “Reaching this level was already impressive.”
By the time the first six contestants finished, Shucai Guaguo’s ending won the audience’s favor, while Qishui’s earned expert acclaim.
“Finally, the last one,” Oscar said, visibly drained from the mental and physical toll of hosting. He approached Feng Bu Jue’s station. “I have no doubt Contestant Bu Jue will surprise us again.”
Feng Bu Jue chuckled dryly. “In a way… yes.”
Oscar gestured grandly. “Let’s see… Contestant Bu Jue’s finale!”
Seconds passed. The screen remained blank.
“Uh…” Oscar whispered into his earpiece. “Director, is this an equipment malfunction?”
“No malfunction. I just didn’t write anything,” Feng Bu Jue answered for the director.
“Bu Jue, you said you had plenty of time!” Oscar gaped.
“I did. I finished the whole book. Objectively speaking, the author’s work was excellent,” Feng Bu Jue said, resting his chin on one hand. “But personally, I dislike this novel—deeply. No reason. As the saying goes, When paths diverge, we cannot walk together. I refuse to continue this story, not even a single character.”
(End of Chapter)
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