Some people could only sigh in disbelief.
"Sure enough, Shuying's money was taken by him."
"The person using the pen name was the one who awakened Shuying's talent. The writing is so delicate and elegant; it must have been Liu Shi. Everything fits together."
"Even after she divorced and remarried overseas, she still worried about Shuying. She secretly returned through her letters, nurturing her daughter's literary talent without asking for anything in return."
Hong let out a quiet sigh. "The love parents have for their children truly knows no bounds. She must have inherited the literary traditions of the Liu family. Living overseas, publishing books and journals, broadening her horizons, embracing new ideas... only someone with that background could write such pure, dustless literature."
"Yet after writing those masterpieces, she quietly mailed them to Shuying without revealing her identity. She never sought fame for herself. If she had submitted those works under her own name, they would have shaken the entire literary world back then. But for the sake of her daughter... She gave it all up."
"So... this is the Liu family." Hong's voice was filled with admiration, and her words caused the other contestants to fall silent as well.
A mother with such profound knowledge and remarkable vision... She truly was extraordinary. It was because of her that Shuying's literary gift had blossomed.
In the back row...
Near the very end of the audience, the young man wearing glasses frowned in confusion. The elderly man beside him had been muttering to himself the entire time. "God is dead..."
His expression was vacant, almost as though he had fallen into a nightmare from which he could not awaken. "God is dead... What does that even mean?"
The young man instinctively leaned farther away, secretly assuming the old man suffered from some kind of mental illness.
When Shuying was six months into her poetic journey, she began studying modern poetry in earnest. The poetry competition was approaching, and she had to survive the preliminary selection. One crumpled envelope after another piled up in the trash as she exhausted herself searching for inspiration, racking her brain for a single breakthrough.
Then... Someone knocked on her bedroom door once again.
"Do you still want your letter? I accidentally dropped it on the way here. It landed in a pile of mud."
The bedroom door swung open, and Shuying hurriedly snatched the envelope back, glaring at Ye. "Do you even know what kind of letter this is?! This was sent to me by the greatest poetry writer alive today!"
Ye merely shrugged lazily. "Tch. If writing poetry isn't even a real job, what's so valuable about it?"
Shuying slammed the door shut without answering him. Then, she carefully opened the envelope. At that moment, she encountered the most beautiful words she had ever read in her entire life.
The envelope was stained with mud. Feeling heartbroken, she gently wiped every inch of it clean before unfolding the paper. The very first sentence appeared before her eyes. Its handwriting was graceful, and its tone was unbelievably gentle.
"You haven't yet learned how to weave the universe into your poetry. You should write it like this."
Then came the second passage.
"Every atom within your body was born from exploding stars."
"The atoms in your left hand and those in your right may have come from entirely different stars."
A warm smile slowly blossomed across Shuying's face. "So this... is what it means to wrap gentleness around the entire universe..."
Her voice unconsciously softened. Never before had she spoken so gently while reading another person's words.
Then came the third passage.
"This is the most poetic truth in physics that I know."
"Everything about you is made of stardust."
At that instant, not only was Little Shuying left speechless, even the guests watching the replay were completely stunned. This... This was the very first time they had ever heard these lines. These words had never been published. They had remained hidden for more than a decade.
"My God... Who wrote this? It stayed buried by time for so many years?" Hong stood up in shock. "The first few lines alone are breathtaking..."
"Quiet." Xuejian frowned gently. "Don't interrupt it. It's too beautiful."
The entire venue instantly fell silent, and every eye remained fixed upon the screen. Then, the final lines appeared.
"So... God is dead."
"Therefore, forget God. The stars have vanished."
"Only then can you stand where you are today."
At that instant, countless scholars felt as though their souls had been embraced by an invisible hand. A breathtaking wave of cosmic romance swept through the entire audience.
Shuying herself froze completely as she stared blankly at the letter. So... Poetry could actually be interpreted this way.
Her gaze slowly fell upon the signature. Shadow.
"Who... are you?" From that very moment onward, Shuying's understanding of cosmic romanticism was completely transformed. She finally understood how to write because someone had personally shown her what true cosmic romance looked like.
"So it was at this moment that Little Shuying truly stepped onto her own poetic path and became a representative of cosmic romantic literature. This was where everything began." Hong sighed deeply. At last, she understood. This was how a true genius was nurtured.
Yet one question continued lingering in her heart. Who... Who had written such breathtaking cosmic romantic poetry thirteen years ago... Only to leave it unpublished... To reject fame... To quietly send it to Shuying... Simply to become the guiding light that illuminated another person's future.
What incredible generosity.
What astonishing selflessness.
Now, under the countless eyes inside the stadium, Shuying stared blankly toward the west. Her vision blurred. That distant silhouette...
"Was it... you?" She whispered softly.
Everyone knew exactly whom she meant. Liu Shi, the woman who had left long ago and was now living a wealthy life overseas.
"It could only have been her. Back then, only she could have understood poetic concepts to such a degree." Cheng forced out a bitter smile.
"Yes... Only she would willingly sacrifice her own chance at fame just to help her daughter." Guochang let out a long sigh. At last, he finally understood where Shuying's elegance, confidence, and noble temperament had originated. Everything suddenly made sense.
And now, the replay continued, but the perspective quietly shifted.
Inside the tiny bedroom, Ye gently closed the door.
When this scene appeared, almost nobody paid any attention. Because the headlines flooding the internet all declared the same thing.
"Ye is so pitiful. Ever since the Liu family appeared, every one of his proud accomplishments has been overshadowed."
"That woman is incredible. No one imagined she could become so accomplished overseas."
"Little Shuying always dreamed of surpassing her father, only to discover her mother was the truly extraordinary one."
But the very next second, everyone, every single person watching the replay, the Commentator, the contestants, every one of them widened their eyes in utter disbelief. Because the screen now showed...
On the small desk inside Ye's bedroom lay a pristine envelope. Its signature read, Shadow. And Ye... Slowly... Carefully... Word by word... Penned every sentence with astonishing tenderness reflected in his eyes.
"You haven't yet learned how to weave the universe into your poetry. You should write it like this."
"Every atom within your body was born from exploding stars."
"The atoms in your left hand and those in your right may have come from entirely different stars."
"This is the most poetic truth in physics that I know."
"Everything about you is made of stardust."
So... God is dead."
"Therefore, forget God. The stars have vanished."
"Only then can you stand where you are today."
After finishing, he carefully folded the letter. Then deliberately rubbed a little dirt onto the envelope. Only then did he walk over and knock on Shuying's bedroom door.
The next scene was exactly the one everyone had witnessed before.
"Do you still want your letter? I accidentally dropped it on the way here. It landed in some mud." The bedroom door opened, and Shuying angrily snatched the envelope.
"Do you even know what kind of letter this is?! This was sent to me by the greatest poetry writer alive today!"
Ye clicked his tongue dismissively. "Tch. If writing poetry isn't even a proper job, what's the point?"
Shuying slammed the door shut without another word.
Outside the door, Ye smiled softly. Even separated by a wooden door, that quiet warmth seemed capable of reaching the other side. Then, humming to himself, he happily headed toward the vegetable market to buy groceries.
But inside the arena, no one had recovered from the shock. Then. many people suddenly remembered something Shuying had once said.
"That man has no delicate thoughts. His words are rough. He invents random idioms. He speaks with the same vulgarity as ordinary laborers struggling to survive..."
At that moment, an identical question surfaced in countless minds. You say... He doesn't understand tenderness? You say... He doesn't know how to write beauty? Then who... Who was the one who wrote the words that changed Shuying's entire life?