Chapter 30

After the young man died, the eleventh person, standing diagonally opposite to the right of Buxiao, stood up trembling with fear.

This was a man who looked to be around thirty, with a thin mustache neatly trimmed, indicating he was someone who cared about his appearance. With a fresh corpse nearby, anyone would be nervous, and this man was no exception. He had gradually calmed down from the stories of those before him, but now, as soon as he stood up, he started to shiver.

Due to the red light's warning to be fully engaged when others were speaking, Buxiao had no choice but to focus his attention on the man. Looking at the man's short, neat hair and tidy mustache, Buxiao couldn't help but feel a bit puzzled. In his experience, few creative people cared about their appearance. This man, and the previous Lü Nan, were clearly exceptions.

At this moment, the man with the mustache finally spoke, his voice trembling: "I... I am Song Sicheng... I am a... a..."

Clearly, this man was so nervous that he started introducing himself. Those before him had mostly cut to the chase, but in a situation where they only had five minutes to impress, stammering through an introduction was a sure way to fail!

However, Song Sicheng's next words immediately captured everyone's attention, even those who had been on the verge of panic forgot their fear.

"I am a writer, and five years ago, I was fortunate enough to join the Writers' Association. I have published..."

Song Sicheng continued listing the titles of his books, but no one was paying attention anymore. Almost everyone was thinking, "This is actually a colleague," or, like Buxiao, "Indeed, a colleague."

None of the people present were fools. Song Sicheng was the first to reveal his profession, and with that one word "writer," everyone's minds raced. Combining this with their experiences since arriving, they roughly deduced their identities.

A person with a complete, unique world in their mind—this almost defined the profession!

Writer, novelist!

At this moment, Buxiao's mind also lit up. He realized that Song Sicheng was not a reclusive writer like himself but a popular, best-selling author who frequently visited publishers and appeared in public.

Buxiao suddenly found everything more interesting. Looking at Song Sicheng, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly, a mix of interest and competitiveness, but mostly...

Contempt!

Although he had been in the industry for six years without publishing a single physical book, he didn't seem to have the right to look down on anyone who had published. However, the emotion most evident in his narrowed eyes was indeed contempt.

As for the reason...

Buxiao suddenly knew what he should say next.

Song Sicheng continued speaking, and after about two minutes, his emotions gradually stabilized. At this point, he didn't realize that he had made a significant contribution to everyone in the stone room.

What he described was not new; at least half of the people present had experienced it firsthand. It was the cycle of submitting manuscripts, being rejected, submitting again, and being rejected again, until one day, receiving a call from an editor.

Clearly, due to their shared profession, everyone quickly immersed themselves in Song Sicheng's narrative, feeling a strong sense of empathy.

Although Buxiao was not a physical book author, he had had similar experiences on online platforms. He started by reading novels, then writing for fun, and eventually, as he invested more time, he aimed to become a full-time writer. While still in college, after more than a year of effort, he finally received a contract offer from the author platform. His girlfriend was there, and they both cheered in front of the computer.

Buxiao's feelings at that moment were undoubtedly the same as Song Sicheng's.

Finally, Song Sicheng finished his story, and the scene of receiving the editor's call quickly faded from the listeners' minds.

After sitting down, Song Sicheng wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and silently evaluated his performance, feeling it was just barely passing.

However, barely passing might not be enough to save his life!

There were fifty people in total, and only the top twenty could survive!

Thus, after sitting down, he became even more nervous. He no longer sweated, but his legs trembled uncontrollably under the table, and his heart pounded wildly.

The unique and intense examination continued after Song Sicheng, becoming smoother and smoother without any further issues.

After another person finished speaking, the red light, seemingly satisfied with the situation, interjected for the first time: "Very good, it seems you have understood the rules here. Keep it up, next person."

By this point, the circle had turned halfway, and the next person to stand up was the second person to Buxiao's right. This was a young man in his early twenties who had already prepared his speech but was thrown off by the red light's interruption. Fortunately, he quickly regained his composure, showing that he was a very confident person.

Buxiao was already fully engaged in listening, but he noticed that the woman in the blue floral dress to his right was somewhat nervous.

At this moment, the woman appeared to be listening attentively, but her breathing was clearly irregular, sometimes light, sometimes heavy.

Buxiao was not surprised by the woman's reaction. The stone room had more men than women, and the previous women had performed poorly. It seemed that in such a situation, women's mental fortitude was more easily tested.

As time passed, Buxiao was prepared for a poor performance from the woman. He and she barely knew each other, so he didn't have strong feelings either way.

However, something unexpected happened.

Just as the young man to the right was about to finish, Buxiao saw, not directly but with his peripheral vision, the woman let out a sigh of relief and smiled.

People generally look better when they smile, and this woman's smile was particularly stunning.

However, the meaning behind her smile was not quite right. Buxiao clearly felt that her smile was not one of joy but of coldness, of mockery.

This was definitely a woman with a story!

When the young man sat down, even before his bottom touched the chair, the woman stood up, smiling broadly at everyone, a standardized public smile. Clearly, she had no intention of hiding this.

At this moment, Buxiao slightly turned to his right and could see the woman leaning forward, her hands on the stone table, her profile delicate.

After the standardized smile, the woman continued, pursing her lips and pausing for about two seconds before speaking, her first words shocking.

"At first, I didn't like Liu Yan, but after hearing her say something, I became a fan. She said, 'Life is so long, who wouldn't encounter a few scumbags? Without experiencing scumbags, how could one become a mother?'"

Clearly, not everyone had heard Liu Yan's words, but about half had. When the woman finished speaking, everyone was stunned, and then, in the tense atmosphere, the listeners, especially the women, smiled in understanding for the first time. Of course, a smile of understanding didn't necessarily mean it was due to something good; it could also be due to unpleasant memories. The few women who smiled clearly belonged to the latter category.

This indicated that even if Liu Yan's words were said to gain attention, they were still genuine and highly summarizing.

Thus, after the initial smile of understanding, no one smiled anymore.

Buxiao instinctively looked in Lü Nan's direction. He didn't think Lü Nan had any connection to the woman, but he had a hunch that Lü Nan, if not always, had once been the kind of scumbag Liu Yan described.

Sure enough, Lü Nan's face turned awkward, not just because Buxiao was looking at him, but because several others were also looking.

Fortunately, the woman did not stop there but continued, speaking concisely and to the point.

"I won't talk about those bad things; I wouldn't even bother thinking about them if not for today. In short, after that, I opened up and realized that even living alone can be good." The woman spoke with great confidence. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, young and convincing.

"Am I, Nie Ning, unable to live without a man? I often think that in the process of growing up and working, we lose so much, chasing after material things and pleasure while neglecting our souls and spirits."

At this point, she became less aggressive and revealed a more pure quality.

"In this era, how many people take the time to reflect on their gains and losses, to purify their souls? Our bodies enjoy, but our spirits are always on the go, never getting a chance to rest."

"In the past two years, I've visited many places I've never been to before, from famous scenic spots to desolate mountains. One day, I sat on the top of a nameless small mountain, looking at the green land stretching to the horizon, and suddenly burst into tears."

"I cried, saying, 'When I was a child, I thought I would never grow up, but before I knew it, I was eighteen... When I was eighteen, I thought I still had a long way to go until twenty... But in the blink of an eye, I'm already twenty-six... Is thirty far away? I will grow old day by day, year by year...'"

"I cried harder and harder, thinking, 'Why is this happening? Why must it be this way? Wouldn't it be better if nothing ever changed?' That was the first time I felt so strongly that humans are inherently tragic beings, with so many desires that can never be fulfilled."

"Not only do I not want to grow up, get old, or die, I also want to fly, not in an airplane, but to fly on my own... I also want... well, time is running out, I'll tell you my other wishes later."

"Finally, I want to tell you about something I've been doing recently, something quite childish. In malls and supermarkets, there are escalators. Whenever I stand on one, I immediately close my eyes, let go of the handrails, and imagine that I am flying in the sky. Is it childish? But I tell you, if you close your eyes and relax, it really feels like you are flying..."