“Please look… at the big screen.” Oscar continued from his previous sentence, turning around as he spoke.

In the same second, the big screen next to the stage, as well as the small screens in front of each writer, displayed the following: [Zhang San, Li Si, Dusk, Prairie, Victory]

“As you can see, the rules for today have changed. In the past, the requirement for this round was… to design an outline based on a narrative passage and make it a relatively complete story through oral narration,” Oscar explained. “But today, what we’re giving you is… characters, time, place, and event.”

As he said this, the cameraman scanned the expressions of each contestant one by one. Except for Brother Jue… everyone's expression changed slightly.

“However, the other rules for this round are still the same as usual…” Oscar added immediately. “At this moment, the consoles in front of our seven writers have already been switched to free input mode. Whether it’s text, sketches, tables, doodles… you can plan as you wish.” He paused. “And the time for this round is still ten minutes.”

After saying that, he looked at the contestant seats and said quickly, “So now… round two, begin!”

Tick-tock…

Before Oscar's voice faded, the sound of a clock rang out in the venue. This was also the director’s arrangement… to create a sense of tension. Many similar techniques had been used in this revival match to create atmosphere.

“Divine Inspiration, as the most popular segment of this program, is deeply loved by our audience friends.” Since the commercial break hadn’t arrived yet, Oscar had to keep talking. “The performance in this round is crucial… many contestants have been eliminated because of their poor performance in this round…” He moved slowly on the stage and made some eye contact with the audience, which made his speech look more natural. “And today… on this stage of the Revival Night, only one contestant can advance to the finals. That is to say… we will be eliminating not one person, but six.” He stated this well-known nonsense again in an extremely serious tone, but without any sense of incongruity. “But if… you can take the lead in this round, then it goes without saying… it’s equivalent to having one foot already inside the door of the finals.”

While he was speaking, the timer on the big screen had been running for nearly two minutes. Among the seven writers present, six had already picked up their electronic pens and were busy working on their consoles. Only Feng Bujue… was supporting his chin with his hands, looking up at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle, and it was unknown whether he was spacing out or trying to look cute.

“What’s this kid… up to again…” Oscar glanced at this scene from the corner of his eye and instantly had a bad feeling. “Speaking of which… has he given up on himself…” he thought to himself. “Or… is he just trying to be sensational?”

“No… he’s not that kind of person.” Oscar thought for a few seconds and quickly rejected these two guesses. “Hmm… according to his personality, the truth is probably… he thinks the finals are too troublesome, so he’s deliberately trying to get himself eliminated.”

Having figured this out, Oscar’s slight surprise and doubt vanished completely. At this moment, he couldn’t help but smile, because he suddenly realized… the things that were happening before his eyes were very ironic… things that some people would go to any lengths to obtain were burdens that others couldn’t get rid of even if they wanted to.

…………

Ten minutes passed quickly. During this time, Oscar went offstage for a few minutes to rest, drink some water, and touch up his makeup.

The three minutes he spent babbling on stage just now had filled the gaps outside of the commercial breaks, and the rest would be recorded later.

In addition, the live director (unlike when Brother Jue participated last time, Fei Ran was personally in charge of the live command for this event) had also had a brief exchange with the audience, explaining which issues to pay attention to in the upcoming recording.

It wasn’t until there were thirty seconds left on the countdown timer on the big screen that Oscar walked onto the stage again.

“All units, attention, get ready,” Fei Ran greeted in his headset.

“Welcome back to… I Am Writer—Revival Night! I’m Oscar.” After a few minutes of rest, Oscar regained his energetic state. “Thank you for your patience during the commercial break… let’s take a look at how much time is left in this round…”

The main camera cut over at this time, giving a close-up of the big screen.

“…Twenty-one seconds,” Oscar continued. “Are you all as nervous as I am?” As he spoke, he moved closer to the contestant seats. “But the most nervous… are undoubtedly our seven writers. I wonder how their creative progress is going…”

What followed was a rather abrupt silence.

These ten-odd seconds would be handed over to the post-production staff to handle. When the clip was made, this segment of the screen would be divided into several pieces, showing the countdown while constantly switching between close-ups of the contestants, accompanied by an intense Bgm… creating the feeling that “the TV screen will explode when time is up.”

For some reason, techniques like this… never failed to work in various variety shows and have endured for a long time.

“Time’s up!” Oscar said after the countdown ended, then spoke directly to the big screen, “Without further ado… please look… random numbers.”

Seven Arabic numerals flashed rapidly on the screen. After a few seconds, they suddenly stopped at the number “6.”

“Heh… this is also manipulated in secret, isn’t it…” Feng Bujue thought to himself. “In this round, it’s obviously more advantageous for the person who announces their outline later, as they have more time to think… while the first person to appear is the most unlucky. By the time the scores are given, the subsequent narratives will have diluted the audience’s impression of the first story.” His eyes looked intentionally or unintentionally at Fei Ran. “As expected of Director Fei… very skillfully done. Presumably, the last person to announce will be… Night’s Fire. Hmm… if it were me, I’d also separate Qishui’s narration order from Night’s Fire by at least two people. If Qishui were to appear second to last, creating a contrast with Night’s Fire, then the latter would be in trouble…”

Brother Jue’s mind flashed, all these thoughts passing through his mind in just three seconds.

And Oscar, at this time, happened to walk in front of him: “Bujue, remember the last time you came to our show, you won second place in this round. Although you were unfortunately eliminated in the end, your extremely spoof-filled story left a deep impression on everyone.” At the prompt of the staff (through his headset), he briefly reviewed Brother Jue’s past performance. “I wonder what kind of surprise you’ll bring us today.”

“Surprise is guaranteed…” Feng Bujue replied expressionlessly. “As for joy… hehe…”

“Then, please be… gin…” When Oscar said these words, there was a noticeable and unexpected pause between “be” and “gin,” because in that split second, he saw Brother Jue’s console… the screen was blank, untouched.

“Once upon a time, there were two people,” Feng Bujue intertwined his fingers, resting his hands under his nose, adopting Commander Ikari’s signature pose, and said coldly, “One was called Zhang San, and the other was called Li Si.”

The venue suddenly became very quiet…

Everyone who came to the venue today, including the fans of the other writers, was very much looking forward to Feng Bujue’s performance in Divine Inspiration, because no one knew what this guy would come up with…

Feng Bujue’s narration gradually unfolded, “One dusk, Zhang San asked Li Si out to compete in a race…”

“Huh?” Oscar was stunned, thinking, “A race?”

“The location of the competition was on a prairie…” Feng Bujue continued. “Li Si was a cripple, nicknamed Iron Crutch Li. He usually needed crutches to help him walk. And Zhang San was an athlete, two meters and sixteen centimeters tall, with long legs, nicknamed Zhang Chamberlain.”

“Is that really just a nickname…” Oscar really wanted to add that, but he could only force himself to endure it.

“The two stood side by side, and the arrogant Zhang San asked Li Si to call out the starting signal,” Feng Bujue said. “So, Li Si said, ‘On your marks… go!’”

“‘Go’ is what the heck!” Oscar exclaimed in his heart.

“Before Li Si finished speaking, he rushed out,” Feng Bujue said. “Zhang San didn’t care about this despicable act of cheating. He smiled calmly and followed.”

“The guy who’s racing against a cripple isn’t exactly a gentleman either!”

“In a matter of ten seconds, Zhang San surpassed Li Si and pulled away by a hundred meters. He ran headlong at this speed for a while… When he looked back, Li Si, limping, had become a tiny black dot on the prairie,” Brother Jue said. “Zhang San thought to himself, ‘The finish line is only five meters away, I’m sure to win, might as well lie down and take a nap.’”

“He’s a psycho! Just run the last five meters!”

“Zhang San lay on the prairie, enjoying the gentle evening breeze, and before long… he really closed his eyes and fell asleep,” Feng Bujue continued. “And Li Si chased and chased, limped and limped… By the time he reached Zhang San, he was exhausted.”

“Heh… If it were me… when I saw Zhang San get up, I’d beat him into a cripple with my crutch…” Oscar’s internal monologue was uninterrupted.

“And Zhang San was still sleeping… Although Li Si also wanted to rest for a while, he knew that Zhang San ran faster than him, and only by persevering could he win,” Brother Jue said with a solemn expression. “After a fierce ideological struggle, Li Si gritted his teeth and persevered.”

“It’s only five meters! What’s there to struggle about! Can’t you just take a few steps during the struggle!”

“Finally, Li Si crossed the finish line.” Feng Bujue’s story was nearing its end. “Zhang San woke up and looked back… Huh? Where did Li Si go?” He said in a tone of lecturing a kindergarten child, vividly adding, “Oh no, that’s terrible! Li Si has already crossed the finish line. Zhang San got anxious when he saw this, but it was too late for him to chase after him now, Li Si had already won.” He shook his head and sighed. “Ah… it’s really thought-provoking…”

“Director… let’s call security…” Oscar turned his head and switched the microphone to the backstage communication mode.

“There’s no need, right…” Fei Ran said. “He’s already finished telling the story, it’s too late to kick him out now…”

“No… I mean, have the security guards on standby,” Oscar said in a low voice. “In case the audience throws debris at the stage or rushes at him directly, the security guards can hold them back for a while…”

“It’s okay… you cover for him,” Fei Ran said. “Find a way to cover it up…”

“Cover up my ass!” Oscar actually cursed at the head director in the communication channel. “Even kindergarten kids can tell that this is the Tortoise and the Hare!”

“Calm down… be calm…” Fei Ran said in a firm tone. “Say something nice, if all else fails, tell a few jokes, change the subject…”

The part where Oscar was whispering into his headset was naturally going to be cut out in post-production, so he simply talked for more than three minutes.

Three minutes later, Oscar adjusted his emotions and expression and switched the microphone back to the hosting channel. “Ha…” He smiled, a smile that was as fake as it could be. “Bujue… your story… overall… it’s still quite educational…”

“Boo—” The audience immediately booed. This time, the entire audience was booing Brother Jue. Some of his supporters had already angrily left, and the remaining ones had basically gone from fans to haters, throwing away their banners and joining the booing crowd.

“Hehe… of course, this is a modified version of the Tortoise and the Hare,” Feng Bujue replied shamelessly with a calm smile.

“Don’t go too far!” Suddenly, Night’s Fire, who was sitting next to him in seat number seven, spoke up loudly.

This situation was unprecedented… In the history of the recording of *I Am Writer*, there had never been a scene where two contestants clashed on the spot. Oscar’s ability to control the scene was very strong. Generally speaking… who said what and when… was all guided by him, the host.

But now, an unexpected situation had arisen.

“All units, attention, don’t stop, keep recording!” Fei Ran’s excited voice rang out in the headsets of the staff, it seemed… the director was very happy to see this situation.

“No matter what your purpose is, please don’t use this kind of attitude to tarnish this sacred stage,” Night’s Fire glared at Brother Jue with righteous indignation.

“Oh?” Feng Bujue turned his head, looking at Night’s Fire with a sarcastic smile. “Is this stage sacred?”

Before he finished speaking, Brother Jue suddenly stood up.

Near the stage, the few security guards outside the camera range broke out in cold sweat. They all thought to themselves, *No way… are we really going to have to go on stage…*

Feng Bujue took two steps, came to stand in front of Night’s Fire’s seat number seven, and leaned his hands on the console, bringing his face close to the other party’s, staring at the latter…

Faced with Brother Jue’s actions, Night’s Fire was momentarily at a loss… He had originally wanted to use the words he had just said to gain some popularity for himself and, incidentally, to stab the guy next to him who was ranked second in the online vote. It was a one-stone-two-birds plan of “kicking someone when they’re down and elevating oneself.”

Unexpectedly… Feng Bujue actually left his seat and directly forced his way over. Judging by this posture… was he going to start a fight?

Night’s Fire was around thirty years old, dressed smartly, and even wore a fitted suit, but it still couldn’t hide his rather overweight figure.

And Feng Bujue… although he looked thin, he had been working out regularly recently, and his body had become very strong and well-defined; coupled with his height advantage, he clearly wouldn’t be at a disadvantage in a fight…

“Hey, hey… what’s going on… If you really beat up Night’s Fire, it’s not just a matter of being dragged out by security, he might sue you…” Oscar thought to himself.

“If this stage is sacred…” Feng Bujue stared straight into the other party’s eyes and said in a deep voice, “…then why are you here?”

“What do you mean by that!” Night’s Fire was furious on the spot, as if his hair had exploded.

Because he heard another meaning from Brother Jue’s words…

Night’s Fire himself knew very well that his “first place in the popularity vote for the revival match” was achieved through behind-the-scenes manipulation… To put it bluntly—he had paid money. Just like some online writers who spend money to boost their results on the website, Night’s Fire had also done something similar to make his ranking in the online vote reach the top. In addition, he had also pulled some strings, pressuring the TV station’s top executives through sponsorship from manufacturers to pave the way for himself to enter the finals.

When Feng Bujue sarcastically used his so-called “sacred” remarks to satirize him, Night’s Fire was naturally furious.

“It’s nothing, just saying something casually. If you don’t like to hear it, I’ll say something else.” Feng Bujue suddenly smiled again, turned around leisurely, and returned to his seat.

The audience on the sidelines was dumbfounded, not knowing how to react…

Seeing that the situation had eased, Oscar quickly said, “Ah… haha… Bujue is still so fond of joking…” He tried to use laughter to dilute this terrifying atmosphere. And the next step was to change the subject. “Speaking of which… Bujue, there are actually some highlights in your creation this time, at least there are a lot of things to complain about.”

“Where?” Feng Bujue was taking apart his own stage, “I said that this story is a modified version of the Tortoise and the Hare, even if there are highlights, I’m just doing ‘advanced plagiarism,’ right?”

“Uh…” Oscar really couldn’t continue the conversation. He sighed and didn’t care about the live effect (it really didn’t matter at this point, let the post-production staff handle the mess) or the atmosphere and said directly, “Bujue… to be honest, I’m quite shocked. What exactly do you mean by your performance today?”

“Heh… you will understand when the show is over…” Feng Bujue rested his hands behind his head again, replying in a relaxed tone. “For now… just assume that I had a lapse in performance.”

“Hmph… it’s not like you’re any better when you perform normally…” Night’s Fire snorted coldly from the side.

Feng Bujue didn’t care about this at all. He didn’t even look at Night’s Fire, he just smiled and recited, “Say I’m arrogant and think highly of myself, I don’t ask for anyone to understand, I’m full of pride.”