Who Is the True Literary Girl's Object of Fantasy

On summer nights in the mountain village, aside from the chirping of cicadas and crickets, no other clamorous sounds could be heard.

Lin Yu once again affirmed that, in Fang Xinran’s heart, her hometown was a truly beautiful place.

There’s a saying that goes…

What people pursue is something they were born with.

It’s just a shame that Fang Xinran, who had only left home a few years ago, hadn’t yet realized this.

"Lin, what are you thinking about?"

Fang Xinran suddenly spoke up, asking Lin Yu.

Lin Yu looked up at the bright moon and said with deep emotion:

"Thinking about home."

The moon of his childhood was just this bright.

Bright enough that streetlights weren’t needed to see the surroundings.

Bright enough that decades later, when you describe it to younger generations, they simply wouldn’t believe a moon could shine so vividly.

Sometimes, even Lin Yu himself wondered—had his memories embellished its radiance in hindsight?

But upon reflection…

Perhaps it didn’t matter.

The moon, or home—

Both were things he longed to see but could never truly see again.

Those things remained sealed in his memories, glowing brilliantly.

Hearing this, Fang Xinran recalled Lin Yu’s background.

Unsure how to comfort him, she could only steer the conversation elsewhere:

"Sooner or later, we all have to leave home."

"When I was little, I thought these mountains were what blocked me from the outside world."

"But when I finally got out, I realized… the things holding me back weren’t them at all."

Lin Yu couldn’t help but glance at Fang Xinran.

Her delicate profile was bathed in a shimmering glow under the moonlight.

Before this, Lin Yu had always thought Tang Yimian was the quintessential literary girl—

The type who’d murmur, "The wind is rather boisterous today," by the lakeside.

Now, he realized…

The real literary girl might be the one right beside him.

"A girl from the mountains, yearning for the world beyond."

"But once she’s out there, she’s struck by a new confusion."

"How strange… It’s like…"

"This isn’t the life I dreamed of?"

"Then… what is it that I truly want?"

"Senior Fang, that’s how you feel, isn’t it?"

Lin Yu articulated it all smoothly.

These were likely the thoughts trapping Fang Xinran.

If someone asked Lin Yu now what to do or how to live—

Despite having lived a second life, he’d only made it to his thirties at most.

He hadn’t even figured out his own life yet—who was he to tell others how to live?

But analyzing things from the sidelines? That he could do!

Thud!

The moment he finished speaking—

A sudden impact slammed into Lin Yu’s chest.

If not for his sturdy physique, Fang Xinran’s force would’ve sent him tumbling.

She thrust a beer bottle right in front of him, exclaiming excitedly:

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Lin, you’re the first person who’s ever completely understood me!"

"I just knew… I always had this feeling…"

"If I shared my troubles with you, you’d be the one most likely to help!"

"I’m so glad I ran into you tonight. Alone in the dark, I never know where to place my heart."

Lin Yu: "…"

After the hug, where should I put my hands?

You could’ve just said it.

Or even sung it.

But no—you had to shove a beer bottle at me?

This strong?!

Her jumpy demeanor tonight was certainly… fitting.

He couldn’t predict which words might suddenly strike a chord with Fang Xinran—

Triggering another flare-up of her "mad dog" tendencies.

Rubbing his chest, Lin Yu reached out and grabbed at the air.

An identical beer instantly materialized in his hand:

"I brought drinks. Tonight, let’s drown your worries—or just talk about your past. I love hearing stories. We can—"

Clink!

Before he could finish—

Fang Xinran’s bottle collided violently with his.

Thankfully, this was a dream.

In reality, they’d both be holding shattered glass by now.

Fang Xinran beamed: "Lin, our personalities are so alike!"

Lin Yu raised a brow: "Oh? You like stories too?"

Fang Xinran shook her head: "No, I love telling them!"

Lin Yu: "Oh. Heh. Heh heh…"

At this moment, Lin Yu began to grasp the severity of the situation…

For what felt like an eternity—

Dream prison, round two.

Fang Xinran seemed determined to recount her entire life, jumping from memory to memory.

A few times,

Lin Yu tried to interject, steering things back to just drinking.

But while the beers kept coming—

Fang Xinran’s words never stopped. She was utterly engrossed.

No wonder…

No wonder she and Tang Yimian got along so well!

Their storytelling styles—starting from the dawn of creation—were eerily similar.

At one point, Lin Yu even considered—

Maybe I should just unleash cosmic laws, trigger an earthquake, and end this torment.

From now on, he’d think twice before stepping into a literary girl’s dreams.

Too refined.

Way too refined for a crude guy like him.

But just as Lin Yu resigned himself to the ordeal—

The conversation took an unexpected turn when Fang Xinran mentioned college…

"So, Lin, I also started writing in college to capture my feelings at the time."

"Though I never showed anyone, let alone thought about publishing like you."

"Even back then, I thought Yimian’s novels were great. But with your guidance, they’ve gained so much more depth."

"Lin, can I ask something bold…?"

"Is your own writing… similar to Bin’s style?"

Lin Yu: "???"

That’s not bold—that’s outright reckless!

A moment ago,

Lin Yu had been stewing in his dream prison, contemplating "self-destructing" for escape.

Now, the topic had pivoted sharply—

To Bin’s high school grades?!

This left Lin Yu…

Oddly delighted!

Playing along, he feigned hesitation:

"Not entirely. At least the main plot isn’t. Maybe I’m just good at writing romantic tension."

"And it’s not based on personal experience. Senior Fang, you know me—I’m what you’d call—"

Clink!

Their bottles met again.

Fang Xinran shot him a knowing look—

Before dropping an even more explosive question:

"When I write, I always imagine things vividly."

"If I describe a mountain, I picture the mountain. If it’s wind, I feel the wind."

"Everyone has their own mental projections, right?"

"Lin, when you write… who do you picture?"

"Is it someone you know in real life?"

Lin Yu: "!!!"

…

(First update today! Extra chapters coming later—your support fuels this little author. Thanks a million!)