Chapter 350: Summit Confrontation
Chapter 350: Summit Confrontation
April twentieth was the day An Yueqin showed up at his door. Feng Bu Jue still had twenty-five full days until his next manuscript deadline - plenty of time, objectively speaking.
But Feng Bu Jue had a chronic procrastination habit when it came to writing. Except during rare bursts of inspiration, he treated deadlines like elementary students handle summer homework: in July he'd think, "The vacation just started, I'll do it in August." By August he'd decide, "There's still a month left, I'll start in mid-August." Then mid-August would become, "I'll leave it until the end of the month." And finally, at month's end, he'd mentally count down: "Five days left, no rush. Three days left, still time..." until inevitably, on the very last night before school resumed, he'd enter full-blown panic mode and crank out the entire assignment overnight.
Of course, Feng Bu Jue rarely faced this scenario during his own elementary school days. By third grade, he realized winter and summer break homework was just pointless drudgery wasting youth.
Teachers enthusiastically assigned the work but rarely checked it themselves, either ignoring it completely or delegating verification to student assistants. After all, with dozens of students per class and massive physical workbooks to grade, even if they tried marking everything thoroughly, they'd still be grading through Teacher's Day.
So it became an established twice-yearly routine - one side wasting youth, the other side half-heartedly going through motions.
In essence, holiday homework was just a meaningless bubble rising from the stinking swamp of exam-oriented education, still stubbornly floating to prove its existence. The real tragedy? Some self-important teachers would even add extra assignments beyond school requirements. Such behavior only communicated two things: first, their personal lives were deeply unsatisfying; second, they lacked healthy emotional outlets.
After seeing through these absurdities, Feng Bu Jue began treating homework with equal disdain. Every year he'd stubbornly insert the same message into his winter/summer workbooks: "Clearly, you won't actually grade anyone's homework this year either. You're just forcing us to waste precious time and ballpoint pen ink.
These printed materials, as worthless as toilet paper the moment they're bound, make me feel nothing but disgust and sorrow.
Based on my investigations, you'll either ignore them completely or just skim to see if we filled all pages. Since that's the case, I'll just scribble whatever. For math problems I'll write '250', for English questions I'll put 'you are fool', for Chinese compositions I'll improvise doggerel poetry and scatter this very paragraph into short sentences across blanks.
If one day you discover this pattern, it'll prove you actually cared to check. Then I promise to complete the assignments properly. But realistically, that day will never come. So allow me to declare: may every moment of our class' youth wasted on holiday homework accumulate into your eternal torment in hell. May your soul find redemption through such suffering."
That was nine-year-old Feng Bu Jue's manifesto. Five years later, when his peers hit middle school rebellious phases, he'd always lecture condescendingly: "Back when I was rebelling, I had actual aggressive edge. Makes your pathetic antics look like kindergarten stuff."
But perhaps Feng Bu Jue digressed too much. Childhood anecdotes can wait for another day. Let's refocus.
Objectively speaking, his former editor Lao Chen was a genuinely good man. Whenever Feng Bu Jue delayed manuscripts, Lao Chen always shielded him. Though he'd occasionally threaten and shout at Feng Bu Jue, he never once complained to editorial office superiors about taking all the blame himself. Precisely because of this, Feng Bu Jue couldn't understand why Lao Chen had "burnout."
But now with a new editor, Feng Bu Jue couldn't afford his old habits. He well understood An Yueqin was a newly promoted officer determined to make immediate impact. If he first month made things difficult for her, he'd ignite a firestorm with catastrophic consequences given her influential status...
Therefore, this first manuscript must be submitted strictly on schedule, with uncompromising quality and sufficient quantity. Any oversight could become the spark that ignites disaster.
On that afternoon of the twentieth, Feng Bu Jue sat motionless at his computer long after seeing An Yueqin out, staring blankly at the screen.
He could technically write without inspiration - after all, professional writers had that basic skill. But the process remained agonizing.
Perhaps "agonizing" wasn't the perfect adjective, but that's essentially how it felt.
The more responsible an author felt toward their work, the more painful forced creation became.
If Feng Bu Jue ghostwrote for others, he could carelessly churn out nonsense - he could produce ten thousand words between bathroom breaks. But this was his own creation. Before hitting keyboard, he first needed to satisfy himself as reader.
"Ahhh..." Feng Bu Jue stared at May's manuscript draft for half an hour without typing June's first word. First he sighed, then escalated to shouting: "Ahhhh!!!"
Sighing deeply, he muttered, "No plot ideas at all. Hmm... Maybe play some games for inspiration?" He quickly shook his head. "No no, can't do that. Enter the Gaming Pod and time disappears completely." Thinking further, he decided: "Since Si Yu probably won't log in these days anyway, I'll wait until her cold clears up. This period will be devoted entirely to writing."
"Hmm..." Feng Bu Jue rubbed his chin, pondering. "Maybe check the game forum? A brief distraction might help." With that, he moved his mouse, minimized the document, opened the browser, and clicked his bookmarked Url.
The forum page loaded with red bold text screaming: [Summit Confrontation - War About to Ignite! Are You Ready?]
Beneath in normal font: Terrifying Paradise Summit Confrontation (Spring 2055) - Details available upon clicking.
"What the... The game's only been running fifteen days! Why this 'climactic battle' atmosphere?" Feng Bu Jue recalled those two days of closed beta testing.
He clicked the link immediately. The screen displayed competition details.
After reading briefly, Feng Bu Jue understood. Dream Corporation's plan involved holding major competitions every May (spring) and November (autumn), calling them "Summit Confrontation."
"Since current open beta phase, this competition only offers 1v1 events. All players level 30+ qualify to register. Deadline: 23:59 April 30th, 2055. Registration via login interface." Feng Bu Jue read aloud. "May 1st 00:00: preliminary queue system opens. Contestants participate through queuing system."
Pondering, he added: "Posting this early serves two purposes - giving players ample registration window, and pressuring level-20s to rush leveling up desperately." He sneered. "These next ten days, double experience card sales will likely skyrocket multiple times."
Scrolling further, the rules weren't immediately below. First displayed were the prizes:
[Players ranked 100-51st receive: 10x Double Experience Cards (game time 24 hours), 200,000 game currency, and limited edition t-shirt.]
[Players ranked 50-31st receive: 2x random Fine-grade equipment corresponding to player level, 2,000 skill points.]
[Players ranked 30-11th receive: 1x random Flawless-grade equipment (type selectable) corresponding to player level, 3,000 skill points.]
Feng Bu Jue remained calm until reading these. But the next section - prizes for 10th to 4th place - nearly popped his eyeballs...
(End of Chapter)
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