"Arrogant!"
"Shameless boasting!"
"A young man is still a young man. He doesn't know who he is after obtaining a little achievement.”
"Kid, don't be arrogant. Do you think we're nothing?”
The moment Ye Feng said this, these traditional writers could not tolerate it anymore.
Who were they? They were all top literary masters in the country.
This young man actually did not put them in his eyes at all. He clearly looked down on them.
It was the same even if Ian had won the first place in the preliminary round.
If he could get first place in the preliminaries, could he still get it in the semi-finals? As for the finals?
"Whether he is arrogant or not will be known soon.”
Ye Feng said calmly. He didn't want to explain. He would know the result after the competition.
Some people were unwilling to accept this and wanted to retort. At this moment, the question for the Literature Cup semi-finals was announced.
A staff member posted the proposition of the semi-finals on the blackboard on the wall.
There were a hundred authors in the semi-finals, so the Literature Cup organizers only posted the title. When everyone went back, they would just send the novels over.
The semi-finals were different from the preliminaries. In the preliminaries, you could write whatever you wanted and only the best works would be selected.
However, the semi-finals were different. The content written was all set.
The content did not match the proposition given, so it was useless no matter how well it was written.
This time, the title given by the organizers of the Literature Cup was fate.
"Hiss, fate? This subject isn't easy to write!"
"That's right. If you want to write a good work, it seems that you have to think carefully.”
"Only ten people can enter the finals.”
"It's not easy to write.”
After reading the title of the semi-finals, the group of traditional writers either twirled their beards, scratched their heads, or had bitter expressions on their faces.
Fate was illusory, and the meaning of the word was very mysterious. It was a little difficult to write a work based on this topic.
Even Yang Fan, who was the best in traditional Chinese literature, had a dark expression on his face as if he was thinking carefully.
Compared to their heavy hearts, Ye Feng was different. His expression did not change at all. He was extremely relaxed.
Isn't it just about fate? Was it very difficult? That's right, it might be very difficult for them.
However, for Ye Feng who had the memories of his previous life, he expressed that it was not difficult at all.
Anyway, he didn't need to think about it. What was the biggest advantage of being a transmigrator? It was the memories of his previous life.
Do you know what's in his head? Civilization, and it was the civilization of a world that had existed for thousands of years.
Even without a shadow, Ye Feng could still slowly make a name for himself. Damn it, he could use civilization to smash these people to death.
After reading the questions, Ye Feng didn't stay any longer. He walked briskly and hummed a tune from his hometown as he leisurely returned to the hotel room he had booked in advance.
A group of traditional writers heard the commotion and looked at Ye Feng's back with ugly expressions.
If looks could kill, Ye Feng would have been cut into pieces by now.
After returning to his room, Ye Feng didn't idle around. He immediately turned on his computer and typed out the works for the Literature Cup semi-finals.
With his quick-witted and quick-witted mind, did he need to think about how to write? It didn't exist.
The sound of typing rang out, and lines of words quickly appeared on the computer.
After he finished writing, Ye Feng didn't hesitate and immediately sent it to the email of the Literature Cup staff.
In the afternoon, he walked around the room in an old-fashioned and solemn manner. He was old and could not stay idle, especially at this time.
Every time he thought about the possibility of a good article being written, he would feel excited and want to read it as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, the questions had only been revealed in the morning. It had only been a few hours. Even if the participants were all top literary masters in the country, it shouldn't be so fast.
Yan Zheng's two disciples looked at their teacher sighing in the room and instantly understood his thoughts.
Hence, she sneaked out and went to Director Wu to ask for the manuscript.
In the office, Director Wu had nothing to do. He crossed his legs and was drinking tea leisurely.
The semi-finals would last for two days, but the questions had just been revealed today. There were no works submitted, so he was happy and relaxed.
As soon as he picked up the teacup, Yan Zheng's two disciples came in.
"Director Wu, it's us. We're here to get the manuscript again.”
Snowy knocked on the door and smiled.
"It's Master Yan's two outstanding disciples. This, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't have a script yet.”
Wu Xin didn't dare to be negligent and said with a smile.
However, he couldn't help but complain in his heart,'How long has it been since the question was written?
"This... Director Wu, please take a look at it. You know my temper. I can't sit still until I see a good piece of work.”
Snowy continued to explain.
"Alright, I'll get the staff to look through the manuscripts.”Wu Xin did not decline and immediately called a staff member to look for the manuscript.
Regardless of whether they sent the manuscript directly or sent it to the mailbox, the Literature Cup staff would make a copy and print it out to store it in the manuscript area.
Soon, the staff returned with a draft.
"Look, there's only one copy left. Why don't I send it to Elder Yan personally when there are more works?”
Wu Xin said. To be honest, he was surprised that there was a manuscript in the manuscript storage.
At this time, all the writers should be buried in their thoughts. How could someone write so quickly and send a work to the game?
"No need, it's better to have a little than nothing to pass the time.”Snowy laughed dryly.
It had been a few hours since the topic was announced, but only one manuscript had been sent over. Therefore, she was still doubtful about the quality of this work.
Otherwise, there would definitely be more than one.
However, when he thought of his teacher's impatient personality, he didn't dwell on this matter anymore. It was better than nothing.
When she reached out to take the manuscript, she glanced at it and saw the title of the work,
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