I am a writer in Tokyo

Xiaoyuan Yishu’s new book is finally coming out.

This news flew out of Ito Tavern like it had wings. Perhaps everyone's expectations for it were a bit too heavy, so it couldn't fly very far, so it fell heavily in the crowd, and then stirred up layers of waves.

However, this news does not seem so true to readers who are eager to know the details. They only vaguely know that the book is going to be released, but have no idea when it will be released or in which bookstores it can be bought.

Matsuo, who knew the inside story, suddenly had an idea. He thought of what Oshima Kazuya had told him at that time. Since the book was about to be prepared, did it mean that the competition had a result?

He asked Oshima Kazuya what kind of competition it was, but Oshima Kazuya couldn't give a clear answer. He said he didn't know the name of the competition very clearly, so he basically used the four words "competition" to refer to it.

However, Oshima Kazuya told Mr. Matsuo very seriously that this competition was very important and directly related to the subsequent planning. Then Matsuo asked what the planning was, and Oshima Kazuya smiled mysteriously and said that in the words of editor-in-chief Kashiwagi, it was to create a god, to create a god that belonged to the Japanese people.

Instead of waiting for Xinchao's announcement about the book called The Passion which had been promoted for a long time, people waited for a result, an award-winning result.

From the announcement, we saw that Xiaoyuan Yishu's book won the first prize, but many people had never seen the name of this competition.

"So, this book has been waiting for the results of this competition?" Someone pointed at the words on the notice. He had never seen this award before, but the person next to him thought: "It seems that only literature professors can write letters of recommendation to participate in this award."

"Wouldn't that be very unfair?" He couldn't understand why a competition involving only a few books had to be so serious and solemn.

But the people next to him had a solemn look on their faces: "This competition is not a competition for newcomers to debut. It has another name in the Japanese industry, called the Little Nobel Prize."

"Little No Prize?"

"Yes, this award is prepared for authors who are capable of challenging for the Nobel Prize, so ordinary people cannot participate. Although it cannot be said that entering this award will win the Nobel Prize, what can be guaranteed is that as long as this award is won, then this author will obtain a permanent and exclusive place in the bookstore."

The location of the tree that belongs exclusively to the courtyard does not sound strange to people, and they even feel that it should be so.

The name Xinchao is very interesting. Perhaps when it was named, the author wanted to use a brand new wave as its connotation, especially in the literary world.

In fact, their readers did form a wave, which began to appear from every corner of the city, then gathered on the streets and finally rushed into the bookstores.

"What? The books haven't been fully put on the shelves yet? But didn't they say they would be placed in the area dedicated to Yishu in the courtyard?"

The readers were very angry. They pointed at a spot at the door and loudly questioned the clerk. Not only one reader, but all the readers who came to the bookstore to buy books seemed very excited.

The clerk became nervous when he saw this situation and kept bowing and apologizing to everyone.

He also followed the store manager's arrangement. What these readers, who seemed hungry for food, said was right. In the past, Xiaoyuan Yishu's books were indeed placed at the entrance of the bookstore for sale.

"But." The clerk's voice was loud, but it still seemed so small in the noisy crowd. He tried to suppress the noisy crowd, but it was impossible to do it with his own strength.

The bookstore, which was supposed to be quiet, was now as noisy as a vegetable market. Everyone blushed, remained humble and polite, and secretly tried their best to squeeze into the crowd so as not to fall behind.

"but what?"

The clerk found a loudspeaker from somewhere and shouted. Everyone looked at him and asked in unison.

"It's true that it was placed in the most conspicuous place in the store before, but now according to relevant regulations, Teacher Xiaoyuan's books must be placed in his exclusive area." Everyone turned their heads to look at the place where the clerk was pointing, which was an area surrounded by a fence.

“But there’s nothing there.”

"Yes, this place was just cleared out upon notification." The clerk found that the loudspeaker was surprisingly useful, but it still required him to use a lot of strength to shout: "When we open for business tomorrow, everyone will be able to see Mr. Xiaoyuan's books here."

"So, any new books?"

He was talking about the Passion, and everyone is very clear about this.

The clerk gave a very affirmative answer.

The crowd looked as if it had been pacified.

The clerk pointed to another place and said, "You can take a look at the books of other writers. Their other works are also good."

However, his words did not receive a response this time. The crowd flowed out of the area very quickly like a receding tide. Then in a moment, the building was empty, as if it had never been there.

This situation is like a small courtyard, a tree and a person supporting the entire bookstore, which makes other writers feel extremely desperate.

So, the correct time to put it on the shelves is tomorrow.

The news spread like wildfire and began to circulate in the streets of Tokyo.

Everyone has a question in their mind.

That’s what this book is really about.

This is a question that not only readers want to know, but also the people at Bungeishunju and other publishing houses want to know.

However, we have to say that Xinchao's operation is simply like that of a god, pulling these people around like puppets, and they have no ability to fight back at all.

As the sun slowly set and the dusk turned black with twilight, newspaper cars began to appear from corners of the city.

Perhaps it is because the atmosphere of autumn tends to be serious, which makes this event solemn and ceremonial.

They went into each bookstore and then returned to where they started.

Editor-in-Chief Kashiwagi stood in front of the French window and did not say anything. Instead, Oshima Kazuya looked at the cars coming and going downstairs with a sense of lofty ambition.

"If this is a battle, then we have undoubtedly won, right?" (End of this chapter)