Tianjiao · Spark Cup Creative Writing Competition.
Song Chan had seen it a couple of days ago.
She’d considered entering, but her father was nervous, coming up with all sorts of excuses to stop her, saying she shouldn’t be distracted with her upcoming trip abroad. When he couldn’t dissuade her, he finally told the truth: Wen Ying was one of the judges.
Wen Ying, a younger schoolmate, was a fellow winner of the previous New Concept Essay Competition. Now, she’d leapt from peer to judge. Could Song Chan handle such a psychological gap?
Even if Song Chan could, Song Foxiang didn’t want his daughter to feel “wronged.”
Song Chan felt a bit uneasy, but not exactly wronged. With her departure abroad looming, and her father constantly nagging, she decided to skip the competition to ease the old literary romantic’s heartache.
Song Chan had it all planned out.
But she didn’t know the prize money was so high!
Seeing the promotional video, Song Chan stood up abruptly.
Relatives struggled to pry Song Foxiang off Song Shao. Once freed, Song Shao noticed his cousin’s reaction.
“You want to sign up?”
Wen Ying was featured in the promotional video, clearly valued by the publisher.
Song Shao thought he’d send a congratulatory message to his old classmate tomorrow.
The writing competition’s appeal to literature lovers was like a call to martial artists in a wuxia novel hearing about a heroes’ gathering—whether hero or villain, everyone would show up to take a look.
Song Shao assumed his cousin shared this mindset.
He never expected Song Chan to break from her usual pattern. She nodded firmly, her eyes practically sparkling, “Yes, I want to try. Xiao Shao, did you see? The first prize for the short story category is 200,000 yuan!”
Song Chan even grumbled that her father hadn’t been clear earlier.
What if Wen Ying was a judge?
This was a competition with a 200,000-yuan prize!
The Song family wasn’t wealthy; 200,000 yuan would be a huge help for her studies abroad.
If she’d known the prize was so substantial, Song Chan would’ve eagerly signed up.
If she could win that 200,000 yuan… her father wouldn’t have had to ghostwrite for Zhao Dong, which brought no benefits and harmed his career.
Yes, Song Chan’s goal was clear. She wasn’t chasing vague film adaptation opportunities; she wanted to go for the 200,000-yuan prize!
Song Shao understood his cousin’s resolve. Even knowing Wen Ying was a judge, he saw no issue, “Then join. You can write your entry abroad and email it to me. I’ll send it for you.”
A faint blush spread across Song Chan’s fair cheeks, a mix of excitement and nerves, or perhaps both. She lowered her voice, “We’ll have to keep it from my dad for now.”
Song Shao thought it over and nodded.
He assumed his cousin wanted to avoid any appearance of bias, since Uncle Song Foxiang worked at *Spark* magazine, one of the competition’s organisers.
As for whether staff relatives’ participation affected fairness, Song Shao thought it was fine.
Song Foxiang was just a minor editor at *Spark*, with no sway over the competition’s outcome. Making it to the finals relied almost entirely on reader votes, and a small-time editor couldn’t influence that!
The cousins reached an agreement while Song Foxiang, still drunk, went from clinging to Song Shao to hugging a pillar in the house. The Song family descended into chaos, easing the sorrow of Song Chan’s imminent departure.
…
“The promotional video’s effect is fantastic.”
The next day was the weekend, and everyone gathered at Xie Qian’s house, even Xiao Ni was there.
Zou Weijun represented Rongcheng Literature Publishing House, Xiao Ni represented *Spark* magazine.
Wen Ying, as the competition’s initiator and a judge, naturally had a seat. Wang Shuang was dragged aside by Xie Qian to study.
Yuan Fenghui was absent; *Star River and You* had started filming, and Li Mengjiao was shooting over the weekend, so Yuan Fenghui was at the set overseeing things.
Thus, Mrs. Wang became Tianjiao’s representative.
In front of Zou Weijun, Mrs. Wang worked hard to play the role of Tianjiao’s PR manager. Thrust into the spotlight, she desperately wanted to go next door and scold her kid…
Forcing a cheerful expression, Mrs. Wang shared Tianjiao’s feedback, “Media friends are very interested in the competition. They want more details, but to keep the buzz high, we can’t reveal too much now.”
If everything was said, how could they promote *Spark*?
Holding back some information kept people curious, and those wanting to enter would have to buy the magazine.
It wasn’t about milking money from the competition—a magazine cost just a few yuan, barely covering printing costs.
If someone couldn’t or wouldn’t spare a few yuan for the entry fee yet dreamed of competing… well, chasing dreams requires a full stomach. It’s 2005; if a few yuan is a hurdle, it’s better to let go of literary dreams and face reality!
With media attention, criticism was inevitable.
Even talent shows faced backlash for encouraging young people to chase stardom instead of practical pursuits. A writing competition run like a talent show, once reported by the media, would see online criticism spill into reality.
Yuan Fenghui wasn’t afraid of criticism—a few harsh words wouldn’t hurt.
But some stubborn old-timers with influence could cause trouble if they stirred things up.
Especially Wen Ying, the star of the promotional video and a young judge. When the wave of criticism hit, she’d be the prime target!
Mrs. Wang thought, she couldn’t protect her own son by pushing someone else’s daughter into the firing line. They needed to prepare.
“For the judges, Sister Zou, have you decided? Besides Wen Ying and Screenwriter Zhang, we need a heavyweight veteran to anchor things.”
Mrs. Wang’s mouth was dry from talking. She grabbed a cup from the table and gulped water.
Doing so much as a PR manager, Yuan Fenghui was really pushing her too far. Mrs. Wang felt more exhausted than a workhorse!
Thankfully, Zou Weijun didn’t let her down. The third heavyweight judge was confirmed, “We hadn’t got a definite reply from Elder Fu before, so I didn’t want to promise anything. But this morning, Elder Fu confirmed he’s willing to be a judge!”
Zou Weijun wasn’t bragging. The name she mentioned was unfamiliar to non-literature enthusiasts like Mrs. Wang, but Xiao Ni was thrilled.
This was a titan of the field!
“Sister Zou, you actually got Elder Fu? That’s incredible!”
Xiao Ni beat Mrs. Wang to it, looking at Zou Weijun with admiration.
Mrs. Wang felt glum, cursed by her lack of literary knowledge. She wanted to flatter but feared getting it wrong.
With Elder Fu as a judge, the competition’s commercial vibe was significantly toned down.
Only Wen Ying felt the pressure, “Auntie Zou, the Elder Fu you mentioned, is it just someone with the same name, or really the one I’m thinking of?”
Zou Weijun smiled, “What do you think?”
—What do I think? Am I even qualified to think?!
