Nicholas and Solomon were already friends, and now they discovered that they shared a passion for "And Then There Were None," naturally couldn't resist discussing the plot.
Because they got too engrossed, they didn't realize they had wasted the entire morning until their stomachs started growling with hunger.
They quickly grabbed something to eat and rode their bikes back to school.
Initially, the London School of Economics and Political Science was not located on King's Road but at 9 John Street, Adelphi. It was only later, when more disciplines were added, that the Adelphi campus could no longer accommodate the entire college, prompting the board of governors to relocate.
As Nicholas and Solomon entered the school gates, they had only taken a few steps towards the academic building when they were blocked by two groups ahead of them.
Each group had at least fifty people, and the crowd was dense.
Words like "Holmes," "Lu," and "And Then There Were None" faintly emerged from the crowd.
There was no need to guess; it was because of the book review section of "The Manchester Guardian," which had given "And Then There Were None" such prominent exposure, enabling it to rival "The Hound of the Baskervilles" in public opinion.
Solomon was slightly excited. "I didn't expect the book review to be such a rallying cry."
"A rallying cry" was a term used in ancient times for proclamations, summons, or condemnations, specifically referring to documents condemning enemies or rebels, as well as articles with strong criticism and condemnation.
Nicholas instantly understood. "I felt so impassioned just now, and this is why."
They squeezed into the crowd.
The two groups were engaged in heated debates, discussing the sales figures of "The Hound of the Baskervilles" and "And Then There Were None."
Although Doyle's fans were more numerous, it was an undeniable fact that he was resting on his laurels,
While Lu was a rising star, with a promising future,
One was declining, and the other ascending, and it was obvious whose sales figures would eventually prevail.
Finally, someone from the Holmes camp broke the deadlock.
He shouted loudly, "Are you people out of your minds? So what if 'And Then There Were None' has higher sales? Does the newspaper give you a cut? By the way, I'm not a Holmes reader; I just don't like you guys."
This statement could be considered classic, equivalent to a modern-day fan club declaration:
A pure bystander, not a fan.
Using this tactic was tantamount to throwing a tantrum on the ground.
Nicholas snorted coldly. "Then let me return the favor. Are you people out of your minds? So what if 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' has higher sales? Does the magazine give you a cut? By the way, I'm not an 'And Then There Were None' reader; I just don't like you guys."
Using magic against magic worked quite well,
And the people opposite them began to grumble.
The two groups became increasingly agitated, crowding closer and squeezing each other out of standing space, on the verge of coming to blows.
At that moment, a stern voice rang out: "What are you doing!?"
The crowd turned around to see a middle-aged man of about forty standing there with a pipe in his mouth,
He didn't have a gentleman's beard; instead, his chin was covered with a full beard, making him noticeably different from the typical British gentleman.
Immediately, someone recognized him.
"Mr. Warden."
The warden is the chairman of the board of trustees of higher education institutions in the Commonwealth, responsible for presiding over board meetings and graduation ceremonies, as well as determining the school's long-term development vision.
The warden of the London School of Economics and Political Science was George Bernard Shaw, known by another familiar name—Shaw.
Shaw addressed the students, "No classes today?"
In modern times, students would have dispersed, but in 1900, an era of intellectual ferment, students often challenged their teachers in pursuit of truth. Instead of dispersing, they gathered around Shaw, chatting animatedly, adding fuel to the fire until the matter was finally clarified.
Shaw, somewhat overwhelmed, was also a semi-media figure, having previously worked as a journalist, writing numerous articles on music and theater for publications like The Star and The Saturday Review. Therefore, he was well aware of the salon held at The Times headquarters and had heard of Lu's remarks.
"Let's all calm down," Shaw said, taking a copy of The Manchester Guardian and flipping to the book review section. With a slight smile, he remarked, "Clever." It was evident that he approved of The Manchester Guardian's provocative approach.
Solomon asked, "Sir, what do you think of the quality of 'And Then There Were None'? Is it better than 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'?"
Shaw, a renowned realist playwright, looked somewhat puzzled. Influenced by Ibsen, he consistently opposed Wilde's "art for art's sake" philosophy and advocated for new plays focused on social issues. This predisposed him against Lu, who had expressed admiration for Wilde at the salon.
Shaw remained noncommittal, flipping through the newspaper. Unexpectedly, an article caught his attention—a piece titled "The Conflict of Cajamarca," with the subtitle "Why the Inca Empire Failed to Defeat Spain and Was Conquered Instead."
Muttering to himself, Shaw remarked, "That's a controversial subtitle... Hmm... The author seems to be implying something."
With growing curiosity, he continued reading. The hefty article only posed questions and provided vague answers, indicating that it was part of a series with more to come. Despite this, the author displayed a sharp writing style and logical analysis, making them a multidisciplinary scholar well-versed in history, geography, politics, economics, and biology. Based on the quality of this article alone, they were more than qualified to teach at the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Shaw, now even more intrigued, looked at the byline, which clearly displayed a pen name consisting of just two letters: Lu.
Shaw was stunned.
While playwrights were traditionally considered superior to popular novelists, this didn't necessarily mean they occupied the top of the hierarchy. For instance, political commentators writing for newspapers were undoubtedly ranked higher than playwrights.
Shaw swallowed hard. Despite having heard about Lu's invitations from The Manchester Guardian and The Daily Telegraph, seeing an article published so quickly was still somewhat unbelievable.
Turning to those around him, Shaw asked, "Is Lu the author of 'And Then There Were None'?"
Everyone nodded in unison.
An ardent fan of Sherlock Holmes became anxious, saying, "Warden, the quality of 'And Then There Were None' is mediocre, and its sales are not impressive..."
Unable to contain himself, Shaw chuckled, "You lot... Sitting on a gold mine but failing to dig it up." He pointed out the article to the students.
A silence fell over the crowd.
In that silence, Shaw began to entertain the idea that had crossed his mind earlier—inviting Lu as a guest lecturer.
With the London School of Economics and Political Science's impending expansion after joining the University of London Federation, subjects such as geography, philosophy, international relations, history, law, psychology, and sociology were already on the agenda. All of these subjects required faculty.
But Lu was a foreign student, a Chinese national. Would inviting him as a guest lecturer, even without a permanent position, just to teach a few classes, be considered too absurd?