Another week slipped by. After typing day and night without rest, Luo Xiaolu had reached "Writer Skill Card (Beginner) 8888/10000"—leveling up was just around the corner.
Her Artistic Index had also broken the one-thousand mark.
Only three days remained until the writing contest judging date.
*Your Lie in July* had reached its penultimate volume. Here, Luo Xiaolu wielded her literary style with growing mastery, pushing every sentence to poetic perfection.
Nearly every chapter dropped a quote worthy of a model essay—each one sparking ripples online, becoming viral memes quoted by teens across forums.
—Mozart once said: "Boldly step onto the journey. I don’t know what lies ahead, but we’ve taken the step. We are still on the road."
—Months of anguish, hysteria, pain, and struggle… all will be rewarded in one fleeting future moment. Perhaps we’re just hopeless creatures, captivated by that very instant.
—Stars twinkle above your head. Words exchanged with you drift down gently, one by one, like dancing stardust.
Buried in writing these days, Luo Xiaolu only went online today—and discovered her book had gone viral!
Quotes had burst beyond niche circles. Even literary-minded teens who’d never read the novel used them as QQ Zone signatures. In this era, such lines were *super* trendy.
Her unique style had birthed a distinct school: the "Zhou Shuren style." New memes sprouted everywhere—"Zhou Shuren-style romance," "Zhou Shuren-style tram ride," "Life Mentor Zhou Shuren."
Penguin Chinese Network soon flooded with imitators.
Normally, when a genre blows up, authors rush to copy it—that’s standard.
But mass imitation of *writing style*? First time ever.
No one accused them of plagiarism; they openly declared themselves loyal fans of Master Zhou Shuren. They were just teased for imitations that "lacked that authentic flavor."
After all, Zhou Shuren’s style wasn’t easy to replicate—and *Your Lie in July*’s story stood powerfully on its own.
Approaching the final volume: Lavender fell ill and was hospitalized; Gong Sheng threw himself into preparing for the piano finals. The story had clearly hit its climax. Comments section grew wilder daily.
"Please, Author Zhou Shuren—don’t hurt Lavender!!"
"Waaah! This book tricked my heart! I thought it was a sweet romance… you poisoned it!"
"Holy crap, I cry every time Lavender appears now. Author Zhou Shuren, have mercy!"
Some even threatened: if Lavender died, they’d "make her see blood."
Reading these, Luo Xiaolu felt a faint flush of embarrassment.
She’d felt exactly the same back when she first read it.
Yet some works earn "masterpiece" status precisely because a "death" carries meaning.
*The July Lie* tells a redemption tale: at life’s darkest hour, a girl saves a boy—but she carries an even heavier darkness. She brings him light, yet finds her own salvation.
Even if her death isn’t strictly necessary, it elevates the story’s soul into true masterpiece territory.
As judging neared, Luo Xiaolu reviewed other contest entries.
Two titles dominated the leaderboard.
Xia Mo’s *Becoming a God Starts with Campus Romance*: a system grants superpowers through dating different girls. A veteran author, Xia Mo painted each heroine with vivid charm—slightly stereotyped, yet undeniably appealing. Highest popularity. Top contender.
Wu Shu’s *The Defective Product from the Future*: a humanoid robot from the future "accidentally" crashes into the mayor’s daughter’s luxury car, becomes her male maid, and rocks the school with ultra-tech smarts. An overpowered plot twisted into pure romance—clearly tailored for the contest theme. Wu Shu, a seasoned name, was Xia Mo’s only real rival.
Barring surprises, the crown would go to one of them.
Yet quietly ranking third: Luo Xiaolu’s *Your Lie in July*.
As a total newcomer with zero fanbase? Remarkable.
Luo Xiaolu was already satisfied.
Literary style was a double-edged sword. While she’d gathered devoted fans, many straight-male-leaning readers scoffed, calling it "unreadable." Breaking that barrier remained tough.
Now—only wait for the results.
…
August 8th. Inside Penguin Group’s Light Novel Editing Department—
Sunlight filtered through curtains. Lights gleamed. Floors shone mirror-bright.
Top editors stood at posts, silent, faces solemn. All eyes locked on the door. Something monumental was coming.
Yes—today was Judgment Day.
A sharp *creak* of the door swinging open. Hearts clenched.
A slightly plump figure strode in.
"Editor-in-Chief!"
All voices rose as one. A synchronized bow.
Editor-in-Chief Cucumber waved dismissively, stepped to the platform, and scanned the room.
Determination. Tension. Fear. Every face etched with fierce focus.
Then—
It began.
"Final review commences now!" Cucumber declared, voice ringing. "Select the finest campus romance work!"
