Volume 1 Chapter 1 Talent is a Wall

  Tang Guan, a writer of street-stall novels who doesn't even qualify to write for a street stall. Just an ordinary and mediocre member among the countless online writers nowadays.

  He also had a great literary dream, fantasizing about being able to ascend to the throne and command the winds and rains. For this reason, he rented a toilet near the headquarters of a literature website. No mistake, it was indeed a toilet, a renovated toilet that barely allowed for human habitation.

  He could bear it because he had been disappointed enough by opening the author's mailbox full of expectations every day, only to close the website in disappointment.

  The fan on the head keeps spinning, and Tang Guan's heart is also up and down with anxiety. Looking at the editor-in-chief flipping through the manuscript printed with his last living expenses, he was full of expectation.

  This was how many times he personally delivered his own painstakingly written words.

  "Mr. Tang, as a newcomer, you've done a great job with your writing being smooth and leaving suspense at the end, it's already very good."

  "That...that means I can sign now?!"

  "But..."

  "But what?"

  "Uh...ah, this opening also has an outline, uh..."

  "Is there anything else that needs improvement?"

  "Uh...ah"

  "Sorry, Mr. Tang, I advise you to look for another job."

  "Crack!" The editor's thunderous voice startled Tang Guanqi.

  "What! Editor, take a closer look."

  "Mr. Tang, calm down." The editor-in-chief looked at the excited Tang Guan with some surprise.

  "You see the protagonist at the beginning of the story, crossing over without parents, and starting anew with no moral pressure or sense of discord! By the second chapter, does he have a golden finger? And by the third chapter, he's already been tortured to death!"

  "Editor-in-chief! I'm incredibly talented! When I was a few years old, I could recite 300 Tang poems fluently. Don't believe me? Let me recite them to you!"

  "Geese, geese, geese, singing towards the sky with their necks bent."

  "Mr. Tang, don't be like this!"

  "White hair floating on green water, red palm stirring clear waves."

  "Security!"

  "Ah ya!" Tang Guan, almost out of control, was thrown out of the door together with his manuscript by the security guard.

  Tang Guan didn't get up, his eyes gradually losing their luster. This society is like this, talent may indeed be a wall, some people can break through with determination, while others don't even have the determination.

  Shaking, he gathered up the scattered papers on the ground. He was penniless and didn't even have enough money to take a bus. A specialist graduate with no prospects, but still clinging to his pride.

  Rent, utilities, and even the simplest meals have become a problem. This society won't starve you to death, only those who are lazy will die of starvation. Tang Guan is not lazy, but he has high aspirations and a fragile life. The young man's heart is set on being a leader, never thinking of becoming a laborer who suffers from discrimination.

  Disheartened and dejected, Tang Guan walked on the street, gazing at the passing couples laughing together. A hint of envy flashed across his face. He too had once experienced a failed romance, or perhaps it wasn't even worthy of being called love. After witnessing his girlfriend's betrayal with his own eyes, Tang Guan still didn't give up on his childhood dreams, including this nth time being rejected.

  City streets, neon lights at night, luxury cars shuttling back and forth, pedestrians dressed to the nines, none of it belongs to Tang Guan, he's just like a vagrant wandering aimlessly on the streets.

  He walked and stopped, fortunately his place wasn't far from here, and soon he was standing in front of the door to an old apartment unit.

  Bang bang bang! Tang Guang knocked on the rusty anti-theft door.

  He didn't have the key to this door, only the roommate of the master bedroom and the secondary bedroom had custody.

  The "clang" door was opened, a young man with a bright back looked at the disheartened Tang Guan and smiled.

  "Ah, the toilet is back again, failed once more?"

  Tang Guan didn't pay attention to his roommate's teasing and walked slowly into the house.

  The nickname "Toilet Boy" was given to him by his two roommates, although the law has prohibited partitioning and communal living, these young people from all over the world who have dreams also have to accept reality.

  Get out of the city that can provide a glimmer of opportunity, or go to a muddled future, there will always be people who take risks, and this is not even illegal, it's just that his place of residence is a bit weird.

  "Landlord's coming to collect rent again, you've owed it for over a month."

  "Got it." Tang Guan squeezed the manuscript in his hand and walked towards his "toilet".

  The only advantage of living with a toilet is that when he's in there, roommates have to knock on the door.

  Pushing open the toilet door, under Tang Guan's daily meticulous cleaning, there was no imagined foul smell. In the narrow space, there was a bed, a toilet, and a washbasin, that was all he had.

  Tang Guan carefully placed the draft into a paper box on his bedside table, and then lay down on the bed as if paralyzed.

  He turned his head and took out a yellowed book of 300 Tang poems from under the pillow, which had been opened countless times.

  "Grandfather, being a scholar is really that difficult?"

  Tang Guan murmured to himself, his parents were divorced when he was young and had a bad relationship. He grew up relying on his grandfather, only seeing his parents a few times in hazy memories besides receiving the necessary living expenses.

  But Grandfather was an old intellectual, a literati of the last century, with a strong sense of justice. From young to old, Tang Guan learned to read and write, studied books, and learned about moral principles under his grandfather's guidance.

  His grandfather's words, however, have left him so disheartened now. As he gazes at this childhood edition of 300 Tang poems that his grandfather had personally bound for him, tears blur his vision.

  "Not for five bushels of grain will I bow down. In this era, who can still not bow down?" Tang Guan rarely shed tears, but only softly choked back a sob.

  Tang Guan, who didn't study math or science and only loved ancient literary books, had also fantasized about one day being able to cross over into the past like the protagonists in his favorite novels. Maybe he would be a top scholar, maybe he would be a literary genius.

  But this is a digital age, and economic science has become the only standard by which society is measured. Tang's literary dreams of many years finally began to waver, and he started questioning his grandfather's literati values.

  Tang Guan started school late, and at that time his grandfather who had passed away relied on a small subsidy to raise him, which was already very difficult. Tang Guan, who was extremely poor in all subjects except for one, finally managed to get accepted into a specialized college through his excellent essay writing skills.

  The crying stopped abruptly. No one would sympathize with him. It was his own fault, or perhaps as the editor said, talent is a wall, and he really didn't have any talent.

  Tang Guan slowly got up, holding "300 Tang Poems" in his hand, and pushed open the toilet door.

  "Where are you going, little toilet?"

  The roommate who was watching TV saw Tang Guan going out so late and was also a bit surprised.

  "I'm going out for a walk, don't wait up for me"

  Tang Guan's eyes were dull and his response was sluggish, after finishing speaking he walked out of the door.

  Looking at the stairs leading to the rooftop, Tang Guan slowly climbed up.

  All around was quiet, except for the noisy car sounds downstairs, Tang Guan finally burst out.

  "Damn it! Why are you so unfair to me?!"

  "Why am I so useless!"

  "Why don't I have talent?!"

  "Why?! Why?!"

  Questioning, angry shouting echoes. Some people say that those who take their own lives are weak and afraid to face reality, but no one has ever thought about how many blows a person who takes their own life must have endured before thinking of taking their own life.

  But at this time, Tang Guan had become weak and feeble, the meaningless repetition made him unbearable, his footsteps heavy as he walked to the edge.

  The building isn't very high, only seven or eight floors, but it's enough to kill someone if they fall.

  One foot has stepped out, one hand tightly grasps the Three Hundred Tang Poems in hand.

  "Hey kid, what are you doing here?"

  Suddenly an old man's voice pulled Tang Guan back from the brink of death. Tang Guan turned his head to look, and found that there was another person on the rooftop without knowing when.

  An old man with white hair and dim eyes looked at Tang Guan with a smile.

  "Old man, I came up here to get some fresh air, this place is dangerous, you should go home quickly."

  "I just seemed to hear you shouting and scolding Heaven, young man, are you not going to take your own life?"

  Tang Guan quickly withdrew the foot he had already stepped out with, knowing that the old man had seen something and wanted to save him. However, his mind was made up, and he only wanted to get rid of the old man as soon as possible.

  "It's just a casual shout, sir, you also live in this unit, how come I've never seen you before?"

  "Hehe, I've been here all along, I've been here all along"

  "Sir, it's so late, I'll send you home."

  Seeing the old man unmoved, Tang Guan thought of sending him away and then coming back up to end his life.

  "Hey kid, what's troubling you? Just speak up and someone will help you."

  Tang Guan was taken aback by these words, which were often spoken by his grandfather, and he couldn't help but feel stunned.

  "Hey kid, you're complaining that heaven is unfair and didn't give you any talent. If you really had talent, are you sure you could live a better life than now?"

  Tang Guan heard this and immediately nodded heavily.

  "You're really so confident?"

  Although he thought the old man's words were strange, Tang Guan had already steeled himself for death and ignored it, pausing for a moment before nodding again.

  "Hehe, sleep tight, when you wake up, you'll have a gift, the best gift."

  "Sleep, little boy."

  "You..." Tang Guan stared at the old man, suddenly a dizziness, his body fell down, still holding "300 Tang Poems" in his hand, and he fell straight down the stairs.