Speech contests were not documentary literature competitions. The material in speeches mostly relied on the contestants’ daily accumulations, then processed and recreated from those fragmented everyday experiences.
Shen Yuze’s shared story was so simple that it surprised everyone.
Wang Shiya, sitting in the audience, looked astonished. She knew Shen Yuze very well. With the Shen family’s wealth, he had lived a luxurious life beyond his peers’ reach since childhood. He had been to so many places—the unpredictable tranquility of Antarctica, the majestic beauty of the Alps, the scorching waves of Hawaii… His footprints had marked corners all over the world. Even as an adult who could now fly to any country for vacation on a whim, Wang Shiya often felt a subtle twinge of jealousy toward him.
After all, she had earned everything she had by sacrificing her youth to please a nearly seventy-year-old man. What had Shen Yuze sacrificed? He was just lucky—good at picking his birthplace, that’s all.
But now, this young man she envied didn’t mention those lavish global journeys at all. Instead, under the spotlight, he shared a trivial little experience.
In Shen Yuze’s telling, a certain “friend” had invited him to see the place where he grew up. It was a small town by the riverbank, with customs utterly different from the big city. The friend’s family was ordinary; his parents were small vendors pushing carts and selling local specialty snacks. Shen Yuze, from a wealthy background who had rarely even been to a supermarket, had never seen the surging crowds of a market like that. Those people, events, and things were so vivid. He talked about the fried shrimp cakes the friend’s father made by hand, the chickens and ducks with feathers plucked at the neighboring stall, the sisters-in-law brushing past with vegetables, and the earthy human fireworks in the mud underfoot and the air as he wove through the throng.
Was that even a trip?
No exhausting travel by land or sea, no shoulder-to-shoulder tourist hotspots, no sense of strangeness from foreign lands.
Just the open arms of a small city embracing him selflessly.
In that riverside town, he witnessed a person’s childhood and teenage years, then left a brief but fervent mark.
Shen Yuze spoke leisurely, unhurried.
“Everyone’s travels have different purposes. Some go to taste food, some for a beautiful photo on social media, some to feel the local history and culture… I’ve been to many cities and seen many magnificent sights, but I never found the purpose of my travels.
“But that day, I found it in that market.
“I stepped out of the city walls of my own life, cast everything aside, and went to another set of city walls. In those walls, one person was waiting for me.
“Why was he waiting for me? Not because of my family background or origins; not because of my looks or grades. He was waiting for me just because I was me.
“I believe everyone travels their whole life.
“The road ahead is unknown; we’re always on the way, always walking nonstop.
“Stepping into school for the first time is a journey; entering society is a journey; marriage and children are a journey. We blindly seek a satisfying destination like a ship forever adrift.
“But I’m lucky. I’ve found my harbor.
“I think the meaning of travel is the meaning of life. Degrees earned, assets owned, social status enjoyed—these don’t matter. What matters is, through peaks and valleys, at moments of choice, whether the person by my side is still the original one.
“I set out from one city and arrived at another.
“Just as I set out from here to him.
“For me—this was a journey of extraordinary significance.”
As the last word fell, the timer on the big screen behind him ticked to zero.
He stood quietly in the spotlight, head slightly raised, expression noble and composed. After a brief silence, scattered applause rose in the auditorium, soon spreading and finally sweeping every corner of the audience like a surging wave.
Improvised speeches tested a speaker’s abilities the most. Shen Yuze started with a trivial small-town trip, sharing interesting sights and sounds, then gradually elevated it, lifting the audience’s emotions step by step to discuss the similarities between life and travel.
Travel companions supporting each other were like life’s rare true friends.
The more roads walked, the fewer who stayed till the end.
Through this improv speech, Shen Yuze shared his views on life and friendship, resonating with many.
His entire speech flowed seamlessly, building layer by layer, circling back at the end. Without deep thought and daily accumulation, it couldn’t have been crafted in such haste.
Even the other contestants waiting backstage applauded him wholeheartedly.
Hearing such an outstanding speech, the judges’ eyes lit up as they each revealed their scores.
Wang Shiya gave her usual 100, but this time no one objected—because one of the other four judges also gave 100, and the lowest of the rest was no less than 96!
If Shen Yuze could “buy off” Wang Shiya, a No. 1 High alumna, could he have bought the other four too? True ability was the real deal!
With this score out, even with two contestants left, the champion was undoubtedly Shen Yuze. The ninth and tenth backstage looked glum, consoling themselves: first was No. 1 High, second Experimental— they’d aim for third.
In the auditorium, No. 1 High’s cheer squad’s cheers nearly lifted the roof! Jiaojiang No. 1 Middle School hadn’t touched an English speech champion trophy in years—they finally had their moment!
Quick ones posted in class and alumni groups right away. Minutes later, Moments feeds everywhere buzzed with “Congrats to No. 1 High student winning the XX English Speech Contest Championship.”
Of course, as an English speech contest, it had a high barrier for the audience. Take Chen Miaomiao: she hadn’t understood a word Shen Yuze said onstage, but she loved the buzz—everyone clapped, she clapped; everyone cheered, she cheered. Scores out, she spread it on Moments…
On Moments, a classmate asked her: Miaomiao, what did Shen Yuze even say?
Chen Miaomiao couldn’t answer and turned to the person beside her.
While typing on her phone, she asked, “Lu Ping, what exactly did Shen Yuze talk about? I didn’t get it—translate for me?”
“…” Silence beside her.
Thinking Lu Ping hadn’t heard, Chen Miaomiao looked up to nudge him, but her hand froze midair—she spotted two tear tracks streaking down Lu Ping’s cheeks, drops falling one by one.
He cried quietly. Not like others with tears and snot in a messy flood; Lu Ping’s nose tip was red, cheeks and ears flushed. The tears seemed unrelated, sliding silently, gently from his eye corners.
The boy’s tear-soaked eyes sparkled with a hazy glow. He gazed at the stage youth surrounded by applause and flowers, crying and smiling uncontrollably.
Seeing Lu Ping like this, Chen Miaomiao jumped, hurriedly handing him tissues.
“Lu Ping, why are you crying?” Chen Miaomiao asked. “Because Shen Yuze won champion and you’re happy for him?”
Only when the tissues were shoved into his hand did Lu Ping snap from a long dream, subconsciously repeating, “Why am I crying?… Happy for Shen Yuze…?”
Chen Miaomiao: “You okay? I’m asking you!”
Lu Ping: “…” He dazedly raised a hand, touched his cheek—yep, slick with wetness.
He’d really cried.
He couldn’t explain why, but hearing the small-town boy, the riverside market, those familiar life fragments from Shen Yuze’s mouth, his tears flowed unbidden.
He’d thought his life was “dimensionally lower” to Shen Yuze, yet in his telling, he was like a little prince in utopia, with unique beauty.
Lu Ping felt fortunate to meet such a great friend as Shen Yuze; yet terrified—was he really Shen Yuze’s “harbor”?
Shen Yuze called him a ship—a massive ocean liner. If he was the harbor, surely a tiny, unremarkable rickety dock.
Could tiny him hold vast Shen Yuze?
…
After the contest, scores ranked the ten contestants, Shen Yuze predictably champion. Teacher Feng beamed, calling the principal with the good news early.
Compared to her grin, Experimental Middle School’s coach looked stormy like a typhoon aftermath—home turf loss stung!
But teachers’ rivalry didn’t sour the young contestants’ vibes.
After a brief awards ceremony, they returned to the lounge, excited, phones out snapping group pics everywhere.
Shen Yuze cradling the heavy glass trophy became a “landmark”—everyone wanted a pic. Many asked for his contact too, all refused.
Finally squeezing from the crowd, Shen Yuze turned and bumped into the second-place Experimental girl.
She wanted his contact too.
Shen Yuze “treated all equally” and refused her.
She seemed prepared, unembarrassed, joking, “No contacts for others ’cause girlfriend’s strict?”
Shen Yuze shook his head: “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Then boyfriend?”
Shen Yuze: “…” Neither admitting nor denying, he coolly countered, “Why do you think that?”
She shrugged: “I’m back from the UK!” Pointing at her eyes, grinning, “Seen tons there. Your speech? My gaydar went off big time.”
Shen Yuze didn’t ask about her “gaydar.” She continued: “Your boyfriend here today? Bet he is—what’d he think of your public confession? Super happy?”
“He came, but he probably wasn’t happy.”
“Huh?”
Shen Yuze succinctly: “He didn’t understand.”
The girl: “………………”
She thought “didn’t understand” meant “boyfriend’s English sucks,” never imagining no relationship existed—Lu Ping hadn’t caught the confession at all.
In that sense, though Shen Yuze won the contest, he hadn’t really won.
They didn’t chat for long before the teacher from Experimental Middle School called away the female contestant. Seeing that there was nothing much left to do backstage, Shen Yuze prepared to leave. His phone kept buzzing nonstop with congratulatory messages from his classmates. He blocked all those numbers, leaving only one.
Lu Ping: Congratulations!!!!!!!!
Lu Ping: When are you coming out? I’m waiting for you at the auditorium entrance!
Lu Ping: Any plans for tonight?
Lu Ping: We have to celebrate properly!
Shen Yuze replied to the messages as he headed for the door, not noticing the figure that had appeared in front of him until he stopped just in time to avoid colliding with them.
“Sorry… it’s you?” Shen Yuze’s good mood vanished completely.
He looked down at the woman blocking his path, his demeanor turning icy: “Miss Wang, the competition is over. If there’s nothing else, please step aside.”
Wang Shiya had just tried to trip Shen Yuze up badly during the event, but now she acted as if nothing had happened, smiling brightly as she approached—her mental fortitude was impressive.
Wang Shiya: “You won the championship. I’m practically your elder, so I want to celebrate with you. Is that not allowed?”
Shen Yuze let out a scoff: “Elder? If you want to be my elder that badly, why don’t I start calling you Aunt Wang right now?”
He was seventeen this year, and Wang Shiya was only ten years older than him—hardly old enough for “aunt.” But her situation was complicated, and her relationship with Shen Zong was particularly special. If she really managed to climb into position with the child in her belly, then not only would Shen Yuze have to call her “aunt,” but so would the children from Shen Zong’s first two wives… Of course, Shen Yuze’s older brother and sister were already in their forties, so one wondered if Wang Shiya could truly handle being called “aunt” by them.
Faced with such blatant mockery, Wang Shiya’s smile didn’t falter even a millimeter. After all, from the moment she chose this path, she had tied her pride to her ambitions.
In the face of ambition, pride was worthless.
Wang Shiya said: “I wouldn’t mind if you called me aunt.” She slipped straight into the role, trying to build rapport with him. “Auntie wants to treat you to dinner today to talk about something.”
Shen Yuze curled his lips in sarcasm: “No need for dinner. Just say what it is.”
“You’re sure you want to do this here?”
“What’s wrong with here?” Shen Yuze said. “I’m in a hurry. Don’t waste my patience.”
Seeing that Shen Yuze had made up his mind, Wang Shiya stopped beating around the bush.
She looked at him, her tone seductive: “Do you want to become a celebrity?”
“…What?” Shen Yuze never imagined that Wang Shiya had sought him out for something so absurd.
Wang Shiya: “Yuze, you know I run a media company now, right? We specialize in MCN, scouting and packaging KOLs, and we have deep partnerships with many artist agencies. I think you have a great image. If you’re interested in going that route, we could talk. Don’t feel embarrassed—plenty of kids from wealthy families are entering the entertainment industry these days…”
Shen Yuze suspected she’d lost her mind. No matter how flowery her words, her company boiled down to manufacturing influencers. Scouting them, grooming them, and pushing the promising ones into entertainment. If they became real stars with hit works, the company could take a hefty cut.
