Chapter 53

**Morning.**

The weather wasn't too good, with a misty fog.

Zhang Ye hadn't even entered his workplace when his phone rang; it was his mother calling.

"Son."

"Hi, Mom."

"Are you coming home for the Mid-Autumn Festival?"

"I can't, I have to work overtime today."

"Working overtime during the festival? At least you should have some free time in the evening, right?"

"I should be free in the evening, I'll come home after work."

"You don't need to go to Cai Shi Kou, go straight to Grandma's house. All the relatives are coming today. They heard you've become famous, and your sisters are all clamoring to see you."

"Alright, I'll try to get there early."

"Don't forget, I'm waiting for you to make me proud tonight!"

"What do you mean 'make you proud'? They're all family, don't go bragging about me again."

"Anyway, try to sell more things, don't be so stingy. Buy something nice, you're a public figure now, don't embarrass your mother. Alright, I'll hang up."

Beep, beep, beep, the call ended.

Zhang Ye smiled wryly. His mother had no other faults, but she had one major trait—she loved to save face and brag. Yes, Zhang Ye admitted that he had definitely inherited this trait from his mother, but he never thought bragging was a flaw! Many things in his world could prove this point.

Is bragging a mistake? No!

Do you know how Bill Gates became the world's richest man?

Do you know how Li Na won the world tennis championship?

Do you know how Liu Xiang broke the world record in the 110-meter hurdles?

Not many people know, right? Why? Ha, the reason is that they...

2000

2026 Okay, these things actually have nothing to do with each other, let's change the topic!

Not many people had arrived at the office yet.

Zhang Ye walked in without looking, and suddenly a voice came from behind him.

It was Aunt Zhou, who said with a smile, "Whether you greet me or not, I'm still here, neither sad nor happy."

Zhang Ye quickly turned around with a smile, "Good morning, Aunt Zhou. Sorry, the flower pot on your desk blocked my view, I didn't notice you were here."

Aunt Zhou boasted, "How about it, Xiao Zhang? Did my use of your poem work well?"

Zhang Ye said sheepishly, "Did you see my Weibo post yesterday?"

"Of course I did. I followed your Weibo yesterday, and I didn't expect to see such a lively scene right after following. I didn't go to bed until after midnight yesterday. You didn't follow me, did you? I even forwarded your new poem." Then, Aunt Zhou spoke up for him, "Ignore those people from the Writers' Association. If you don't understand art and can't write poetry, then no one in the world can write poetry. I support you, don't take it to heart."

Zhang Ye smiled, "Thank you, Aunt Zhou."

Outside, everyone was coming in to work overtime.

"Hey, Teacher Xiao Zhang is here? Why did you argue with someone again yesterday?"

"Vice Chairman Meng is a leader in the Beijing Writers' Association, how did you offend him?"

"Yes, I saw it yesterday too. Teacher Xiao Zhang, in my opinion, you shouldn't have posted that last poem. They are all leaders and seniors in the Writers' Association. If you offend them too much, how will you join the Writers' Association in the future? It's better to leave some room. But those people are also at fault, why did they curse you for no reason? Your poetry may not be as good as theirs, but you're still young. It's not right to say your poetry has no literary value at all. I think your poetry is still good, not as bad as they say."

"Sister Liu, what are you talking about? Teacher Xiao Zhang's poetry is only good? I think you've been influenced by those people from the Writers' Association. Teacher Xiao Zhang has such great talent!"

The aunts and sisters started to disagree with each other.

Even after the 9:00 AM work start, everyone was still talking about it, the topic continuing.

Tian Bin, who had also followed the Weibo battle last night, couldn't help but interject, "Sister Zhou, who is Vice Chairman Meng? He's an old scholar with many years of experience. Da Lei and the other poets and writers are all experts in the industry. If they said it, there must be a reason based on their literary judgment. We might not understand, but that's all. I'm not criticizing Teacher Zhang Ye, but his poems do have many problems, and I felt uncomfortable reading them."

Aunt Zhou looked at Tian Bin, "Then why don't you write a poem for me to listen to?"

Tian Bin said, "I don't have that ability, but I do have basic judgment." He then looked at Jia Yan, "Teacher Jia, what do you think?"

Jia Yan thought for a moment and said, "Teacher Zhang's poems can't compare to those of the seniors. As for whether they have literary value, I can't really evaluate that."

Zhang Ye heard a few of their comments.

After using two poems to save a life during the live broadcast with Wang Xiaomei, everyone in the office and even the entire Beijing Radio Station had unanimously praised his talent and poetry, all cheering for him, with no one saying anything bad. But now, with the public questioning and denial from the Writers' Association led by Meng Dongguo, the opinions of his colleagues were no longer unified. Some praised him, some criticized him, and more were uncertain and doubtful. Sometimes, the opinions of experts or authorities can be very harmful and influential.

How to turn the situation around?

How to dispel everyone's doubts?

There was no way. As long as Zhang Ye was less experienced than Meng Dongguo and the others, he couldn't turn the tide and would be suppressed by their words. Unless... unless Zhang Ye could use his absolute literary talent and strength to crush Meng Dongguo and his group in a specific time and place, the doubts would never stop. What was the point of responding yesterday? What was the point of writing a good poem yesterday? The people from the Writers' Association would still say he was no good, that he didn't understand art, that he didn't understand literature. They could say whatever they wanted, and he could only stare helplessly.

The deception of power and authority, many ordinary people don't understand these things, they just believe what the experts say!

The listening rate wasn't announced today because the station had a lot of things to do.

Zhang Ye didn't care what people said and got up to go to the recording studio, "Xiao Fang, help me book a recording room, quickly, or it will be too late."

"Okay." Assistant Xiao Fang responded and immediately went to arrange it. But a few minutes later, she came back, "Teacher Zhang, the station has notified us that all of our cultural frequency programs from 12:00 PM to 2:00 PM today are canceled, no need to record. They said we will be live broadcasting the Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival with the news and music frequencies!"

"Ah?"

"Canceled?"

"Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival? Is that what the leaders have been busy with these days?"

A moment later, Zhao Guozhou came in, "Everyone, please be quiet. There's a temporary change in today's broadcast schedule. Starting at 12:00 PM, the seventh Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival, organized by the Beijing Writers' Association and our radio station, will begin. Our cultural frequency will also join the live broadcast. This year's festival is different from the previous one held by the Tianjin Radio Station. It will have a creation segment and a voting segment. We have invited leaders from the Education Bureau, several vice chairmen of the Beijing Writers' Association, and over a dozen members of the Writers' Association to the scene. The specific list hasn't been finalized, but there will be many people. The teachers from the Writers' Association will create poems, songs, and verses related to the Mid-Autumn Festival. Listeners can also create and submit their works on our website for evaluation. The top three will be selected by the listeners' votes, adding a competitive element to make the program more engaging."

Create poems, songs, and verses?

Meng Dongguo and the Writers' Association people will also come?

Zhang Ye chuckled. It really was a case of enemies meeting. They had just cursed him online yesterday, and now they were going to meet in person today?

Will Da Lei come?

Will Xiao Hong Mushroom come?

Zhang Ye was actually looking forward to seeing them at the station!

Zhao Guozhou instructed, "So, everyone, put aside any tasks you can for today, and focus on the Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival. Help out wherever you can. The live broadcast venue is the grand hall. This is the first time we're using such a large venue, and the equipment hasn't been fully set up yet. I'll call out names, and those I call will follow me to help. Because we can't invite too many audience members, everyone should eat lunch early. The cafeteria will open for lunch at 10:30 AM. At 12:00 PM, everyone should be seated in the grand hall."

He called out a few young guys and went to the grand hall to prepare.

Aunt Zhou suddenly said, "Teacher Xiao Zhang, aren't you going to participate in the Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival? Writing poetry is your strong point. They said you don't understand literature, show them!"

Another aunt said, "Forget it, Xiao Zhang didn't prepare in advance. He just found out. Those teachers were probably notified long ago and are well-prepared. How can Xiao Zhang compete with them? It's better not to embarrass himself."

An aunt responsible for the script said, "Aunt Zhou, don't give bad advice. Xiao Zhang's poetry is good, but it's only good to us. Those people from the Writers' Association are professionals, even poets and famous writers. How can he compare with them?" To outsiders, the works themselves are not as important as the fame and reputation of the creators. Zhang Ye was just a newcomer, not even a member of the Writers' Association, so everyone subconsciously assumed his works couldn't match theirs.

Opinions varied.

Later, when the time was right, everyone went to the cafeteria for an early lunch.

Zhang Ye was actually hesitating. The Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival, where Meng Dongguo and Da Lei might also participate, could be a perfect opportunity for him to turn the tide and prove himself. But how could he participate? The rules of the poetry contest were clear. Although listeners could also participate and submit their works, they would only be in text form, while the Writers' Association members would recite their works live. This meant that the top three would definitely be chosen from the Writers' Association members, giving them a significant advantage!

Should he go and cause trouble?

Should he barge in?

So even if Zhang Ye wanted to participate, he didn't know if the station's leaders and the Beijing Writers' Association would allow it.

Forget it, we'll see what happens. Mid-Autumn poetry and verses? Zhang Ye hadn't decided yet. It's not that he didn't have any works in his mind, but... there were just too many!

Not prepared?

He didn't need to prepare at all!

Mid-Autumn poetry and verses? Without bragging, Zhang Ye could talk about them for a whole day and night and still not finish!

The Mid-Autumn Festival isn't a modern holiday; it has a long history in ancient times, and there are countless poems about it. In this world, history hasn't changed much. The dynasties and emperors are the same as in Zhang Ye's memory, because the impact of history is too significant. The game ring couldn't have changed this historical background, or the current social structure would be different, as everything is interconnected.

But many cultural works and historical figures are missing!

Li Bai?

Du Fu?

Wang Wei?

None of them are here!

They have been replaced by others!

The ancient poets and sages in this world are names Zhang Ye has never heard of, like Hao Ran, Chen Yigan, and Meng Fan. The poems, songs, and verses in this world are also unknown to Zhang Ye, and they, of course, have never heard of Zhang Ye's classic poems!