Voting Day.

Lu Zhixian stood in the kitchen.

His phone on the living room coffee table wouldn't stop vibrating.

He ignored it.

Old Zhao's messages had been coming in non-stop since nine in the morning.

"The Review Committee meeting starts at ten."

"They should be discussing it now."

"Why aren't you replying?"

"Are you dead?"

"I asked around in the industry. They said they're discussing it in the morning and won't vote until the afternoon."

"What on earth are you doing???"

Lu Zhixian flipped the ribs over, wiped his hands, walked to the living room, picked up his phone, and sent a reply.

"Frying ribs."

Old Zhao replied instantly.

"Can you have a little sense of urgency? Today is Voting Day!"

"The ribs won't wait."

"..."

"Do you want to come over and eat?"

"No! I'm keeping an eye on things at the company!"

"Then I'll make extra and bring some to you tonight."

Old Zhao didn't reply again.

Lu Zhixian tossed his phone back onto the coffee table and went back to the kitchen to keep busy.

At eleven-thirty, Old Zhao messaged again.

"I heard that during the discussion stage, someone raised the issue of 'precedent for web novel submissions,' and they discussed it for nearly an hour."

"Mm."

"Supposedly, the supporting side cited the arguments from Song Yuanzhi's article."

"Mm."

"Can you say more than one word?"

"My ribs are done, Old Zhao!"

"I don't care about your ribs!!!"

The phone buzzed again.

Old Zhao: "The official vote is at two in the afternoon."

Lu Zhixian chewed on a rib and typed with one hand: "Got it."

"Can't you act like you care even just a little bit?"

"I do care. But caring won't change anything."

Old Zhao didn't reply.

1:50 PM.

Lu Zhixian washed the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, brewed a cup of tea, and curled up on the sofa to turn on the TV.

He flipped through three channels before settling on a food documentary.

On the screen, someone was making Beggar's Chicken.

The phone remained quiet for ten minutes.

Then, a message from Old Zhao came in.

"The voting has started."

Lu Zhixian watched the clay shell of the Beggar's Chicken on TV being cracked open, the aroma of the lotus leaves almost wafting through the screen.

2:15 PM.

Old Zhao: "Still not out."

2:23 PM.

Old Zhao: "Still not out."

2:31 PM.

Old Zhao: "Why is it taking so long???"

2:45 PM.

Old Zhao: "I'm going crazy."

2:58 PM.

Old Zhao sent a voice message. Lu Zhixian tapped to play it, and Old Zhao's lowered voice came through: "There's news."

Lu Zhixian sat up a bit straighter.

Exactly 3:00 PM.

The official Weibo account of the Huawen Literary Award released an announcement.

Lu Zhixian clicked on it and read it word by word.

"Following the official vote of the 32nd Review Committee of the Huawen Literary Award, the work *to live* (Author: Lu Zhixian) has officially entered this year's shortlist for the Huawen Literary Award with 12 votes in favor, 3 against, and 1 abstention."

"The actual number of Review Committee members participating in this vote was 16 (one member had previously resigned from their post)."

"This is hereby announced."

After reading it, Lu Zhixian put his phone down.

The phone began to vibrate frantically.

Old Zhao's call came straight through.

"It passed!!! Twelve votes!!!"

"I saw."

"Twelve votes, bro! That's three more than a simple majority!"

"Good math skills."

"You—" Old Zhao took a deep breath. "Forget it, I'm already used to this."

Lu Zhixian smiled. "Thanks for your hard work, Brother Zhao."

Old Zhao froze for a second. It was rare for this guy to call him Brother Zhao.

"Alright," Old Zhao's voice softened. "Congratulations."

"Mm."

Hanging up, Lu Zhixian opened Weibo.

The trending searches had already exploded.

#to live Officially Shortlisted for the Huawen Literary Award#

#First Web Novel Platform Work Shortlisted for the Huawen Literary Award#

#Huawen Literary Award Voting Results Announced#

Three topics were trending in the top ten simultaneously.

He could guess the tone of the comment section, so he didn't look closely.

Reports from major media outlets were already out.

"A Historic Moment: A Web Novel Platform Work Enters the Huawen Literary Award Shortlist for the First Time."

"Lu Zhixian's *to live* Passes the Review Vote with a High Margin, Breaking a 32-Year Precedent."

"From Piano Champion to Literary Rising Star: How Far Can Lu Zhixian's Crossover Journey Go?"

Lu Zhixian scrolled through a few articles, his expression blank.

Then he saw Zhou Jingtang's interview.

A certain cultural media outlet had contacted the resigned former committee member immediately after the announcement was released.

Zhou Jingtang's response was very brief.

"My stance has not changed. I respect the Review Committee's decision, but I do not agree with it. Once the threshold of a literary award is lowered, there's no going back."

The comment section was almost completely one-sided.

"If you can't afford to lose, just say so."

"He passed with twelve votes. Your three opposing votes didn't even make a splash."

"What threshold? Even Senior Judge Qin Baichuan said it was a good work. Do you know literature better than Senior Judge Qin Baichuan?"

"Good riddance to his resignation. Having one less judge like him is a good thing for the literary community."

A few people spoke up for Zhou Jingtang, but they were quickly drowned out.

Lu Zhixian finished reading and exited the comment section.

He didn't repost, comment, or make any sarcastic remarks.

Opening the Weibo post editor, he thought for two seconds and typed two words.

"Thank you."

Send.

Then he locked his screen and placed his phone face down on the coffee table.

The TV switched to a different show, explaining how to make tofu in a certain ancient town.

He watched for a while and thought he could try making Mapo Tofu tomorrow.

At seven in the evening, Old Zhao called for the second time.

This time he was much calmer, his tone carrying the rationality expected of a manager.

"I need to tell you something."

"Go ahead."

"The final selection for the Huawen Literary Award is in two months. You know who else is on this year's shortlist, right?"

"No idea."

"Fang Yanqiu's new novel *Old Friends of Rivers and Mountains*, published late last year, has a great reputation. There's also Liu Boyong's sequel to *The Great River Flows East*, and Zhang Huaimin's short story collection. All three of them have been famous writers for over ten years."

"Mm."

"Aren't you worried?"

"Worried about what?"

"The competition, bro! These people have much deeper roots in the literary world than you. Some of the judges will definitely favor them."

Lu Zhixian shifted to a more comfortable lying position. "The book is already written. It's not like I can write it again."

"My point is, shouldn't we do something? Like taking on a few literary interviews, or..."

"No."

"..."

"The work is there, and the judges will read it themselves. I'm not going to put on a show just for an award."

Old Zhao was silent for a few seconds.

"Fine. Whatever you say is right anyway."

"I like the sound of that."

"Get lost."

He hung up.

Lu Zhixian lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling in a daze for a moment.

Then, a translucent screen suddenly popped up in front of his eyes.

The system notification sounded.

[Ding—]

[Congratulations, Host! The impact of your work *to live* continues to grow.]

[The Advanced Entertainment Random Prize Pool has been refreshed. Current available draws: 1.]

[Would you like to draw now?]

Lu Zhixian sat up from the sofa.

870,000 popularity points.

From the moment *to live* went online until now, its popularity had never waned.

First there was Song Yuanzhi's long review, then Senior Judge Qin Baichuan's foreword, followed by the controversy over its eligibility, and finally, today's successful vote.

Every wave of attention continuously added to his popularity points.

He glanced at the prize pool interface.

Honestly, he hadn't released a new song in a long time.

His focus had always been on the piano competitions and *to live*.

His music career, on the other hand, had been put on hold.

"Draw."

A wheel appeared on the light screen.

There were many more slots than last time, and the colors were more vibrant.

The wheel began to spin.

It spun rapidly, all the colors blending together.

Then, it slowly decelerated.

Slower and slower.

The pointer swept past a book slot, then past a film slot.

Finally, it stopped on a golden slot.

A musical note symbol.

[Ding—Congratulations, Host, you have drawn: The complete demo + arrangement files + physical USB drive of the classic Chinese song *nocturne*.]

[The reward has been distributed. Please check.]

Lu Zhixian froze for a second.

*nocturne*.

The legendary masterpiece from his past life.

He looked down at the coffee table.

A black USB drive lay there quietly, a tiny musical note printed on its surface.

Lu Zhixian picked up the USB drive and twirled it a couple of times in his hand.

The corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

"It's been a while since I made music."

He opened his phone and glanced at Weibo.

The topic of *to live* was still trending, and the comment section was as lively as ever.

But his attention was no longer on that.

He stared at the USB drive in his hand, the familiar intro already playing in his mind.

It was time to go back.

Back to music.