That year, Ernest Miller Hemingway stood at the podium and said, "If it weren't for Carl Beck, I might have given up writing. He was my good friend and my teacher." That year, Francis Scott Fitzgerald announced his retirement from writing in a newspaper, saying, "Carl Beck is enough for America. I have no creative inspiration in his presence." That year, William Faulkner stood at the Nobel Prize podium and said, "I don't deserve this prize. The Nobel belongs to Carl Beck." That year, Margaret Mitchell sat at her desk and often recalled: If I were a few years younger, I would definitely become Carl Beck's mistress. ...In 1921, Chen Chaoyang traveled through time and space and was transported to the body of a young man named Carl Beck.