56 Coward
“Still not listening?” Luo Yueguan stood up, stepping back into the bathhouse. She quickly submerged herself and swam to Jiang Huai, pulling him out from underwater. Her snow-white and tender skin held him tightly, and Jiang Huai struggled to break free, turning his face away from her eyes.
“Let me check if your body has recovered,” Luo Yueguan sensed his body temperature. Jiang Huai tried hard to struggle, but Luo Yueguan’s embrace was too tight, her soft, tender chest pressing against him, making it hard to breathe.
It seemed the more he struggled, the more excited Luo Yueguan became.
“Are you crazy!”
“You speak.”
“Only when you admit you want to sleep with your Master, Chu Xianning, will you have a reason to know this secret,” Luo Yueguan’s lips curled into a smile.
“Why?”
“When you know, you’ll understand why. But you must admit you want to sleep with Chu Xianning first.”
“I don’t.”
“Then I can’t tell you.”
“No! You…” Jiang Huai couldn’t help but reach out and smack Luo Yueguan’s snow buttocks hard. It was the only way he could vent his anger.
Luo Yueguan let out a soft gasp.
Jiang Huai was stunned, thinking the woman would retaliate. But when he looked down, he noticed Luo Yueguan’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled intoxicatingly. He was all too familiar with this look; he had seen it in Luo Qingyu’s eyes before. The next moment, he pushed Luo Yueguan away, “Forget it, I don’t want to know anymore. I’ll return to the sect tomorrow.”
“Won’t you stay a few more days?” Luo Yueguan stood in the bathhouse, water rippling across her chest.
“No, I won’t.”
“Is there something at the sect?”
“No.”
“Then why not stay a few more days?”
“Heh, stay here and indulge your madness with you?” Jiang Huai took a step back, he was truly afraid of Luo Yueguan.
The more he fretted, the happier Luo Yueguan became. Jiang Huai stood up from the bathhouse, grabbed his clothes, and dressed one by one. He turned to look at the bathhouse. Luo Yueguan’s fingertips were gently fiddling with the shoulder strap of her dress, as if preparing to take it off.
She seemed completely unconcerned about hiding herself, but it wasn’t that she wanted to seduce Jiang Huai into doing something. In her eyes, she simply didn’t seem to regard Jiang Huai as a man.
Jiang Huai turned his face away, “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Go ahead, I’ll escort you by sword tomorrow.”
“Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome,” Luo Yueguan replied softly. Jiang Huai put on his clothes and fled the bathhouse as if escaping.
Luo Yueguan’s dress was all she wore. She soaked in the spirit spring, raised her head, and looked up at the bright moonlight. The clear moonlight fell on her. In the past, she always felt the deep night silver moon was incredibly cold, but now, even in the silver moon, she could see a hint of brightness.
She brought her fingertips to her lips. Her delicate pink lips parted slightly, and she gently bit her fingertip.
A moment later, she suddenly laughed.
“What a shameless woman you are, Luo Yueguan.”
…
Jiang Huai lay on the bed, tossing and turning for a long time, unable to fall asleep.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
He had a feeling of being toyed with by Luo Yueguan. He rolled back and forth on the bed, but Luo Yueguan’s face kept appearing in his mind.
It’s best to have less contact with her in the future.
He thought this and turned over again, but the sound of a door opening echoed from outside the room. He turned his head. Luo Yueguan was in a bathrobe. Jiang Huai immediately asked irritably, “What are you doing here again?”
“Picking something up.” Luo Yueguan went closer to the bedside, took the small iron box on the bedside into her arms, and then looked at him playfully. “Otherwise, what do you think I’m here for? To offer myself to you?”
He was humiliated again.
Luo Yueguan reached out and pinched his face. She bent down slightly and leaned in, “Because you missed me so much you couldn’t sleep?”
“Are you always this narcissistic?”
“Can’t I be narcissistic?” Luo Yueguan chuckled. “Alright, alright, get some sleep early.”
As she spoke, her delicate pink lips drew near and gently kissed Jiang Huai’s forehead.
It was like coaxing a child.
Jiang Huai pulled the quilt over his face, deciding not to argue with her anymore. Soon, Luo Yueguan left the room, but Jiang Huai couldn’t help but start overthinking. She took the small iron box and left. What was she doing now?
“Damn it!”
Jiang Huai felt he had to leave quickly and go home. If he didn’t see Chu Xianning soon, he would be driven crazy by Luo Yueguan.
…
The next day.
Jiang Huai got up early to make breakfast. Luo Qingyu woke up very early and came to the kitchen to help Jiang Huai. Jiang Huai made three bowls of stir-fried beef noodles and stewed a pot of lamb bone and radish soup.
After breakfast, Luo Yueguan summoned her spirit sword. If she were to send Jiang Huai back, riding her sword would be the fastest. Luo Qingyu tugged at Jiang Huai’s clothes, reluctant to let go. Jiang Huai thought for a moment, turned around, and gently placed his hand on Luo Qingyu’s shoulder.
“I’ll come to play with Qingyu again in a while. Be good at Qingxuan Sect, Qingyu.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Huai leaned in and kissed her snow-white little face.
Luo Qingyu froze, her fair cheeks instantly flushed with a burning redness, her voice becoming stammering. Seeing the red of her earlobes, Jiang Huai leaned in and kissed her right cheek again.
Luo Qingyu leaned in and hugged him tightly, her body melting as if about to dissolve.
…
High up in the sky.
Luo Yueguan rode her sword, and Jiang Huai stood on her spirit sword, following behind her. The air around the spirit sword was blocked by spiritual qi. With Luo Yueguan’s cultivation level, traveling ten thousand miles a day was easy, but Jiang Huai dared not look down. One glance made his head spin.
“Can you slow down…?” Jiang Huai’s voice trembled.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
“How embarrassing,” Luo Yueguan taunted him without mercy. The next second, Jiang Huai reached out and tightly hugged her waist, speaking indignantly, “Then I won’t be scared.”
Luo Yueguan was not annoyed, merely saying casually, “Then hold on tight.”
With that, she accelerated again. Jiang Huai’s legs went weak, and he held Luo Yueguan tightly, unwilling to let go. Luo Yueguan’s body was indeed too soft. After a moment, he suddenly realized that because he was too close, his body had accidentally brushed against Luo Yueguan’s snow buttocks. He seemed to have faintly glimpsed a blush on Luo Yueguan’s earlobes.
“No, Little Huai, Luo Yueguan is a ‘downward’ woman; you can’t be a ‘downward’ man!”
So Jiang Huai tried to keep some distance. Unexpectedly, the next second, Luo Yueguan’s spirit sword began to shake up and down. Jiang Huai had to hold her tightly again. He was annoyed and leaned in to bite Luo Yueguan’s earlobe.
“Bitch dog,” Luo Yueguan’s curse followed immediately.
“Woof woof woof!”
Jiang Huai directly started to compete with her to see who was more shameless.
…
After two sticks of incense, Luo Yueguan finally slowed down her spirit sword. Jiang Huai no longer held her tightly but extended his hand to her shoulder for support.
Luo Yueguan was wearing a deep purple dress today. This dress looked particularly dignified and proper, revealing almost no snow-white and tender skin, which made Jiang Huai quite unaccustomed to it. After all, the dresses she wore in the courtyard before were too revealing. The abstinence aura emanating from this dress at this moment inexplicably gave Jiang Huai a strange sense of contrast.
“How much longer until we get there?”
“Half an hour.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Why aren’t you hugging me anymore?”
“I’m tired of it.”
Luo Yueguan gazed at the distant mountains and, as if suddenly thinking of something, said casually, “When your cultivation recovers, bring Qingyu to Tian Xuan Sect to live permanently.”
“Huh?” Jiang Huai was startled.
“Qingyu never intended to take over the position of Sect Master of Qingxuan Sect. She likes to stay by your side, so let her stay by your side.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll continue to guard my Qingxuan Sect, be its Sect Master, and visit her occasionally.”
For some reason, Jiang Huai felt a hint of coldness in Luo Yueguan’s voice.
“Why do I feel sympathetic towards her?”
He gazed at Luo Yueguan’s snow-white neck and suddenly thought of something, asking softly, “Sect Master Luo, I have a question.”
“Speak.”
“If, I’m just saying if… I can’t find a way to cultivate again, and I want to dual cultivate with you once, would you agree?”
Luo Yueguan looked back at him.
“Promise me you’ll take good care of Qingyu from now on, and I’ll agree to Dual Cultivation with you. This is the only thing I can do for Qingyu; it’s what I owe Qingyu, and what I owe you. Consider it being bitten by a dog.”
Jiang Huai looked into her eyes and fell silent.
He was a pure love enthusiast. He believed that Dual Cultivation should happen after mutual affection, with both parties willing.
Luo Yueguan suddenly laughed, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing, I’m just a bit surprised. My question just now was casual, don’t take it seriously,” Jiang Huai scratched his head.
“Surprised? In your eyes, I’m just a shameless woman, aren’t I?”
“…” Jiang Huai was speechless.
“When I was young, I was the daughter of a prostitute. If my mother hadn’t sold me to Qingxuan Sect, I would have been a prostitute too. But when I arrived at Qingxuan Sect, I realized I was merely a cauldron prepared for the young master of Qingxuan Sect to cultivate. There were four or five other women like me. They all willingly accepted their fate, becoming the young master’s favored concubines, believing they would enjoy a lifetime of glory and wealth. But in the end, they were nothing more than toys. Once he tired of them, the young master would gift them away.”
“I didn’t want to be someone’s plaything, so I cultivated diligently.”
“Such an inspiring story,” Jiang Huai muttered under his breath.
Who could have imagined that the daughter of a common prostitute would one day become the Sect Master of Qingxuan Sect, the foremost sect in Moon Wave Continent, Eastern Region?
But Luo Yueguan’s expression suddenly changed. A contemptuous sneer touched the corner of her mouth. “But over the years, I can’t help but wonder if my efforts have truly been worth it.”
” Huh?”
“It’s been over five hundred years. For over five hundred years, I haven’t dared to slacken even for a moment, as if a wild dog were chasing me, ready to tear me to shreds if I stopped.”
“But after becoming the Sect Master of Qingxuan Sect, I don’t feel happy at all. It’s as if all my years of effort were just a bubble. That bubble burst in an instant… What was the point of all the suffering I endured? Perhaps I shouldn’t have resisted my fate from the beginning. What if I was treated as a toy? At least I wouldn’t have suffered so much.”
“Those girls who climbed the mountain with me back then accepted their destiny as cauldrons. At least until their deaths, they lived in luxury, doing nothing all day but dual cultivation with men. It sounds quite blissful, though their lifespans were shorter. But thinking about dying so early, it doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Your thoughts are dangerous.” Jiang Huai’s mouth twitched slightly.
“Dangerous?” Luo Yueguan tilted her head. “I’ve always envied your Master, Chu Xianning. During the catastrophe in Moluo City five hundred years ago, she could proudly wield her sword against Evil Cults, and anyone could praise her as the Flower-Plucking Fairy. But I didn’t dare. I only dared to hide timidly in a corner, praying for Chu Xianning’s safety.”
“I became the Sect Master of Qingxuan Sect through all sorts of despicable means, so my sword will never be as pure as your Master’s, and I’ll never live as clearly as she does.”
“She is a goddess who cares for the world, while I am just a despicable, selfish, and unscrupulous coward.”
**Author’s Note on Going Premium**
It’s that time again, my favorite part – the author’s note when a book goes premium!
Looking back at all my previous premium notes, some told stories, some were about my “sadness,” some were ramblings, and some even involved heated arguments. I’ve had twelve books go premium on SF, and twelve premium notes.
So here I am, staring at my computer for five minutes, unable to think of what to write for this premium note. Previously, my premium notes followed a formula. This book has been enjoyable, with no significant “sadness,” so perhaps I can chat with you all in a different way.
First, I want to thank all the readers who have been following along, especially my editor, Xiao Lu. The book will go premium tonight at midnight, with ten chapters released.
Here comes the formulaic, lengthy rambling section (warning: extremely long).
…………………………….
I’ve realized that writing a book seems to involve two stages.
The first stage is thinking, “I’m the best, those shallow, wish-fulfillment novels are just money grabs, I could do better. It’s not that I can’t write them, I just choose not to. I have my ideals and aspirations; my book must have a powerful core and be distinct from those gaudy, cheap imitations.”
The second stage is, “Damn it, anyone who says that generic, easy-to-write, popular, and well-received wish-fulfillment novels are easy to write, I’ll smash their head with a hammer.”
This is truly a common misconception for many authors when they first start. If you simply want to write to express your emotions, to vent, then write however you please. Whatever you write will be the best for you because it embodies everything you have; it is perfect in your eyes.
However, if you want to write a book that many people will find interesting, I personally don’t think it’s an easy task.
The reason I got into this profession, as I might have mentioned before, is my childhood love for web novels. I used to go to internet cafes, play games, and have Snail Racing running in the background while reading novels on a webpage. I’d download TXT files using a card reader, put them on a memory card, and read them on my button phone all night. I wore out the down button on that phone. Later, when my phone was confiscated, I’d borrow books and seize every opportunity to flip through web novels.
I had a good business sense even as a child. I charged one yuan to download a novel for someone, which only took a minute or two of background downloading. I earned all my internet cafe fees this way.
I read everything back then, basically all the old-school web novels. The two authors who influenced me the most were Fire Mars Gravity and Jiang Nan. Fire Mars Gravity gave me the impression of being a master of harem wish-fulfillment novels. I loved his pacing, characters, and the way he portrayed the male protagonists. I’ve read each of his books at least five or six times, so many of my ancient style tropes are heavily influenced by him.
The second author is Jiang Nan.
I first encountered Jiang Nan in junior high. I was borrowing books everywhere and happened to borrow “Dragon Raja III.” I hadn’t read the first two, but with nothing else to read, I read the entire book and spent the whole day in a daze, thinking, “Damn, how can someone write this well?”
Although Uncle Jiang’s current reputation is a bit murky, I still believe that if he were categorized as a web novel author, his writing is top-tier. Jiang Nan’s strength, in my opinion, lies in his ability to create an intense atmosphere and vivid imagery with just a few strokes. In the serialized “Dragon Raja V,” Su Xi, who didn’t have much plot involvement in the “Dragon Raja” series, had a brief description of her meeting with Chu Zihang when she died. Tears inexplicably streamed down my face.
In my personal preference, Jiang Nan’s writing peaked with “Novoland,” and the one that hit me hardest was “Shanghai Fortress.” While the movie was a bit abstract, the book is definitely worth reading. Every time I reread it, even knowing the ending, I still feel a punch to the chest when I read the line, “Sleep well, goodnight.”
To this day, I still really like Jiang Nan and hope to see “Dragon Raja” and “Chi of Heaven” completed in my lifetime.
After reading so many web novels as a child, I started wanting to write something in junior high. I’d fill blank notebooks with a pen. I remember my longest piece filled two notebooks.
Unfortunately, it was useless.
I was young and didn’t understand the value of education. I got expelled in the third year of junior high for getting into a fight. I didn’t take the high school entrance exam and didn’t even get a junior high diploma. I started school early, and before I was fourteen, I had nothing to do and no elders to rely on, so I started working.
I went to work in a hotel kitchen, starting as an apprentice, which began the two most “sad” years of my life.
Those were indeed the two most “sad” years. I had no money, and the work was hard, which I could accept. What I couldn’t accept was the sense of disparity.
The sense of disparity came from comparing myself to others. It’s like something I read in a book once, the concept of not lacking love isn’t really about having it all the time. For example, if all parents in the world scolded and hit their children every day, no child would feel unhappy because it would all be considered normal. One only feels suffering because they are constantly being hit and scolded while other parents are coddling their children and giving them candy. It’s the contrast of having what others don’t that leads to the feeling of “lack” and thus, suffering.
My life was filled with regret during those two years. At fourteen, I was stuck working in the kitchen. The youngest person besides me was nineteen. The internet made me realize that people my age were living much better lives. They didn’t have to work from seven in the morning to nine at night, freeze their butts off riding an electric scooter in the winter, or chop vegetables until their hands trembled. So, I was quite depressed back then.
During that time, the happiest moments of my day were when there was nothing to do, and I could hold my phone and read novels. It was truly satisfying. Immersing myself in fantasy worlds made me forget my depression and pain. Seeing an exciting part would make me excited for a long time.
It was around then that another thought sparked: since I’ve read so much, why not try writing myself?
So, with a 500 yuan Meilan Note 2 in hand, I started typing on my phone. I posted my first short story on SF and began mingling in the author community on SF.
Then, that leads to what I mentioned earlier, the first stage of writing.
The newbie author community is truly interesting. For example, most people post their books in groups, hoping for feedback. However, in reality, what they truly want to hear is not criticism or suggestions, but praise. If you actually point out their flaws, they’ll get angry.
I was the same.
Back then, I thought I was the best, a rising star in the web novel world. I believed my elementary school-level writing skills could easily beat anyone else’s. Then… I wrote 200,000 characters and got less than 200 collections. I didn’t even meet the standard for applying for a contract. After finally accumulating 200 collections, I submitted the contract application… and was rejected.
Depression.
Yes, I used to be a nobody who wrote nearly 200,000 characters on SF without even meeting the contract standard.
I was going to give up.
But later, because I was always joking around in the group and calling myself a literary youth, I was constantly belittled and insulted. I couldn’t stand it and tried to regain some dignity by writing “My Sister is a Demoness.”
My goal when writing “My Sister is a Demoness” was to achieve good results, at least earn some money, and prove them wrong. And then the story goes… the demoness actually got published.
Back then, being part of a small community, getting published was a huge deal. “My Sister is a Demoness” probably had around 500 average daily subscriptions. Now, if I had 500 average daily subscriptions for a book on release, I’d probably fall into despair right then, but for me at that time, it felt like making a fortune.
My monthly salary was 1800 yuan back then. I gave 800 to my family and kept 1000 for myself. I had two employee meals a day at the kitchen. I still had 500 left each month, intending to save up for a computer to play “League of Legends.” Although I never managed to save up, I was constantly begging for money online, borrowing five or eight yuan from netizens, and just fooling around.
I can’t see the exact royalties from back then in the backend anymore, but I remember it should be around 3000 yuan. The main reason was that I wrote a lot that first month.
3000 yuan was like striking it rich for me back then. That night, I treated people to dinner and drinks, starting to fantasize. My master, a colleague from the kitchen, and I shared two jin of baijiu.
Then, not long after, I became depressed.
Yes, I became depressed.
I don’t know if it was because I had been depressed for so long that my brain malfunctioned, or if my stress tolerance was simply insufficient. Suddenly, I felt very low. I could go three days without speaking to anyone, just stand there spacing out, feeling like I was decaying. The income from “My Sister is a Demoness” gradually decreased because I wasn’t skilled at writing long novels, eventually only bringing in about a thousand yuan a month. The book itself was no longer important; at that point, I was close to the brink of death. When I was most depressed, I sat by the lake late at night, ready to jump.
Then, because I was depressed and couldn’t work, I temporarily quit my job and went back to my hometown to relax and recuperate.
It was then that I wrote what is now “Rebirth: Do You Want Me to Conquer You, Miss?” but it wasn’t called that at first. It was probably originally called “My Sister and I: A Daily Romance”?
How should I put it? This book is entirely fantasy, a despicable fantasy of a depressed boy in bed late at night. The success of this book exceeded my expectations, so I nervously wrote furiously. In the first month of its release, I wrote nearly 200,000 characters. For someone who could only type 1000 characters per hour back then, it was like burning my soul.
And then I made a small fortune.
It was indeed a small fortune, but I was still depressed. Even with a little money, I didn’t dare to quit my job. My trip back home only lasted about half a month. After that, I had to return to work. I continued to work for a fixed salary, and when I got home at night, I would hold the second-hand laptop that a fellow author sold me and write. Tapping away on the keyboard, I’d indulge in daydreams. Back then, I still had a pure love for writing. When I wrote a plot I found good, I’d hum and giggle happily at my computer, laughing uncontrollably like a lunatic.
Then, out of a favor owed to my former master, I went with him to open a food stall selling sauerkraut fish in a university cafeteria, and that’s when I entered the most depressed phase of my life.
Looking back at myself now, my depression was not only due to the high-intensity work combined with writing but also the sense of disparity. The university students were older than me, and I saw how relaxed and happy their lives were. My peers were stuck in small corners, shouting out orders for sauerkraut fish, “Sauerkraut fish is ready! Please come and get it!” I was overwhelmed by feelings of inferiority.
At that time, I was also very anxious about writing. I deeply understood that earning money this time was just a fluke. I didn’t even understand why that book became popular myself, so I was very uneasy. I saved money and continued to write diligently. Then I wrote “Master.” The performance of “Master” was also decent, but I was still working at the time and not writing full-time. Until I saved a substantial amount of money and finally felt like I could give it a try, I initiated my plan to rent a small apartment in Zhengzhou and write full-time.
One word: awesome.
I had my own place, no longer bothered by my roommate’s snoring, a computer that could run “League of Legends” at over 200 frames per second, my own cat, no need to work, waking up whenever I pleased. I was so happy I could barely breathe.
But I was still too deeply affected by depression. I was still a depressed boy. After “Master,” if I recall correctly, I wrote “Kitty Spinning Around.”
It was so bad that even my own mother wouldn’t recognize it.
But if you ask me now, I think “Kitty Spinning Around” was actually quite well-written and interesting.
Then anxiety consumed me, and I started pondering what I should write. Coupled with my depressed mentality, I became quite skilled at drinking at that time. I was either at a bar every day or at home drinking the Buhrladdich I had saved. A bottle would last me about seven days. To this day, I can still recommend Buhrladdich to anyone trying whiskey for the first time. Of course, minors should drink less, preferably not at all. It’s truly bad for your health. My physical examination a few years ago already showed mild fatty liver.
Then I wrote “You Keep Pestering Me About Wanting to Date.”
That book is arguably the most entertaining among all my books. It’s full of pure arguments. At one point, I was completely losing my mind, but because I felt I was writing very well, I wrote furiously. “Curse me, I’ll still write!” I’d just keep writing and writing, to infuriate you.
That book actually performed quite well, and my confidence returned.
I was writing two books concurrently back then due to anxiety, worrying about the performance of my next book. So, I always started the next book towards the end of the current one. I started pondering what I should write. Perhaps because my depression had improved significantly during that period, then…
Sword Immortal Junior Brother Tang Tang made his debut!
I was indeed quite silly when writing “Junior Brother.” It was lighthearted and fun, purely for laughs. You could say that book was the beginning of a formula. “Sword Immortal Junior Brother” performed quite well, it was the best-performing book among all my books, and I made a lot of money.
Perhaps due to my personality, once I earned enough, I felt it was time to fool around again, so I launched “Almost Became a Hero”!
My urban novels tend to have a bit of chuunibyo and craziness, but I genuinely enjoyed writing them. I could write many things that I found incredibly cool, while also pursuing answers about nihilism.
“Almost Became a Hero” also performed very well.
That was the peak of my confidence, and then, wait, let me think.
If I remember correctly, after “Almost Became a Hero” should be… Sword Immortal Senior Brother?
When it comes to the Sword Immortal Senior Brother, I wanted to write a protagonist different from an upbeat character like Xu Luo, so I wrote Gu Yuan, a melancholic young man. The Senior Brother also had good grades, and at that very moment, his confidence reached its peak.
Then, for the next book! Let me think, it should be “Miss Demon, Please Spare Me.”
This book entered the melancholic young man phase again. Perhaps people can’t be happy for too long, and there was a backlash. But I think I wrote the book very well, I really liked it, and the results were okay.
After Miss Demon, I started working on “Why Do You Keep Pestering Me to Be My Dao Companion?”
How should I put it.
I think “Dao Companion” is a historical novel that had no problems, but after I finished the beginning, for some reason, I had a feeling that this book was going to fail. In fact, my intuition was correct, it did fail.
When I was writing “Miss Demon,” I felt that the book’s performance would be alright, and in reality, it was quite good. It seems my intuition was accurate.
“Dao Companion” did not perform well. Logically, I should have finished it early, but I had dug too many holes. A hasty conclusion would be unprofessional, so I worked hard and wrote 1.4 million characters, and then started preparing for the next book.
The next book is “Streamer Boy’s Severe Dependence.”
I really like this book. Whether they like it or not, I wrote it very happily. Both Su Yuzhi and Yan Youlin, these two female characters, can rank among my top five favorite female characters.
“Streamer Boy” also did not perform well, but this was somewhat within my expectations. After all, it was a melancholic story, so I can consider it self-indulgence.
Then I started preparing for “Who Says Quitting at Light Speed Isn’t a Hero.” Some small problems occurred during the opening stages of this book, but thankfully, I met Brother Lu, sf’s best editor!
Xiao Lu and I discussed a lot in the first few chapters of “Hero.” In fact, I never used to discuss my books with editors before. I always felt that editors simply didn’t understand my writing style. Later, I realized that perhaps it wasn’t a problem with the profession of an editor.
Xiao Lu and I always hit it off. Just by reading my opening, he could guess how I would write later, how I would arrange the satisfying points and interesting plot. Our ideas always coincided, so “Hero Two” was launched!
As for “Hero Two’s” performance, if you say it was good… it couldn’t compare to my previous books. If you say it wasn’t good, it still spent some time on the bestseller list during its serialization for a few months, ranking sixth twice and twelfth once. In the month it finished, I wrote for twenty-three days and ranked nineteenth. I truly have to thank all my long-time readers for their support.
After all, it’s an urban theme, plus my usual chuunibyo and neuroses, it’s pretty good to be in this position. I’m very happy. I really have to thank Xiao Lu here. Without Xiao Lu, there would be no “Hero.” I probably would have entered the melancholic mode again and started looking for someone to vent on.
After “Hero” concluded, it was time to launch my fourth historical project.
Actually, I initially wanted to write a fantasy novel, and I even gathered a lot of information. I even thought out the general framework of the story, and the plot for the first 100,000 characters was almost figured out. But then I suddenly realized that I could figure out the plot for the first 100,000 characters, but I couldn’t figure out how to write the remaining one million characters.
I have read very, very few fantasy and western fantasy genres. My knowledge base is insufficient, and mainly, I don’t really like fantasy genres. After some hesitation, I ultimately decided to write a historical novel.
I’ve already had my fill of writing urban supernatural. I’ve exhausted everything in campus stories. Next time I want to write, I’ll probably challenge my first-person, rambling campus style. So what other genres are left for me? It’s historical.
I remember talking about something very interesting late at night with Li Tou when we were drinking. I’ve always felt that Li Tou’s writing is much better than mine. This isn’t hypocritical praise; it’s a genuine feeling. Including Lao A, that is AMNESIAN, their writing is much better than mine. Then Li Tou said I was a genius, but I suddenly realized I wasn’t proud at all, and instead felt an indescribable annoyance.
Because I felt I worked very hard.
In four years, I’ve written ten million characters, no less. In these four years, I spent the previous few years browsing various Zhihu articles about online literature, covering writing, plot, character development, plot design, pacing, genres, and useful settings. Because I wanted to create more vivid characters, I also learned a lot about psychology. Back then, I spent every day pondering how to write things better here and how to design plots there. Before I went to sleep at night, I would huddle under my quilt and think intensely, conceiving ideas back and forth. If I thought of an interesting plot, I would quickly jot it down in my memo, afraid of forgetting it the next second due to my alcohol-addled brain.
I’m someone who can’t even use punctuation properly. Before, I could use periods and commas consistently, but I couldn’t grasp many idioms. I was a humorous young man who could use “melancholy” eight hundred times in a single book. When my first book didn’t meet the signing standard at 200,000 characters, I realized my writing was like that of a primary school student. It was then that I truly started to work hard. I learned all sorts of related knowledge, and I would diligently remember anything useful, re-reading it multiple times if I couldn’t remember it.
I never considered myself a talented prodigy. I’ve written a lot of words, and over the years, unless it was completely beyond my control, I almost never took breaks. Even when my mind was empty, I forced myself to think, to write. It’s like what I wrote in my book, Luo Yueguan always felt like something was chasing her, I have that same feeling. I can’t stop, as if if I stop, I’ll fall and never get up again.
So, I used to be an anxious, melancholic young man. But perhaps it’s precisely because of my anxiety that I’m so afraid of the melancholic days of getting up at seven and finishing work at nine, chopping vegetables until my hands tremble. That’s why I diligently learned everything that could improve me. In recent years, I’ve read many, many online novels, and I’ve also diligently read a lot of traditional literature. Reading more traditional literature helps correct my bad habit of frequently writing sentences that don’t make sense. Many things are learned gradually through osmosis.
Let’s get back to this historical novel.
If you say this historical novel is formulaic, a monotonous repetition of the same old routine with no variation, I absolutely wouldn’t refute it.
Let me give you an analogy.
There’s a breakfast shop downstairs from my place. They have dry mixed noodles and noodle soup. I ate breakfast there for over a year in Xiangtan. If I didn’t eat dry mixed noodles, I’d eat noodle soup. You might say it’s repetitive, and it is a bit, but it’s genuinely delicious.
What this analogy means is, it’s not that I think what I write is so good that it deserves others to read this formula. It’s that… this is what I’m most skilled at.
I’m the cook who makes dry mixed noodles. I’ve been making dry mixed noodles for many years. Every time you come, I serve you the same thing. You can choose not to eat it, but you can’t eat it and then curse me. That wouldn’t be right.
There are many side dishes to choose from for Hunan-style dry mixed noodles, and different toppings, such as stir-fried pork with peppers, beef, and ribs. You can also add many different ingredients, such as chili, small fish, shredded radish, preserved mustard greens, and pickled vegetables.
What I do is make bowl after bowl of dry mixed noodles, and each time I add a little different seasoning. This time I add green peppers, next time I add small fish. I’m not a genius; I just like making dry mixed noodles, and I only know how to make dry mixed noodles. So, I try my best to make different variations of dry mixed noodles for you each time.
You are my customer. If one day you tell me, “Boss, I’m tired of dry mixed noodles, why don’t you come up with something new?”
I won’t, but I can learn. But I can’t come up with something new overnight; I have to learn. I’ve been frantically reading all sorts of online novels lately, looking for genres that I like and that are also somewhat innovative. My next book might be something new, but that’s a matter for the next book.
So, sometimes when I see comments saying I have no new ideas or that I’m getting stale, I feel very helpless. It’s not that I don’t want to come up with something new, but it takes preparation. I can’t just casually whip up some ketchup and chili dry mixed noodles and put them on sale. Then, those who eat it will turn around and throw the noodles in my face, calling my cooking garbage. That would be my turn to get melancholic.
So, the formula for this book is about that principle. If you plan to subscribe, thank you for liking dry mixed noodles.
…
Let’s talk about the books again.
First, about genres. Let’s discuss the lately popular “team-dissolution” and “chasing-one’s-beloved-after-making-a-mistake” themes. In my opinion, they are the same thing. If you talk about the satisfying points and routines within them, I can actually understand them. I’ve deconstructed them: the female protagonist makes a forgivable mistake, the male protagonist is hurt and melancholic, then the female protagonist suddenly awakens and starts showering the male protagonist with excessive affection. This is more satisfying than showering the male protagonist with affection without reason from the start. It’s because people are inherently cheap; they don’t cherish what they get easily. Instead, with such a contrast, seeing a goddess who was initially high and mighty fall from grace in various ways, the core of the satisfaction lies here.
But I don’t like it.
I have “anti-stupidity syndrome.”
Alright, although I’ve written similar husband-chasing plots in my books, like Luo Yesheng and Mu Zhi, they didn’t really grovel. They had proud personalities, the kind that said, “I can admit I’m wrong, but if you don’t like me, I won’t force it.” Something like that.
Part of love is possessiveness. The so-called “husband-chasing hell” is just possessiveness acting up out of a desire to be loved.
I can’t accept a woman making me sick with her stupidity once, and then trying all sorts of ways to please me. In my narrow-minded eyes, the moment you hurt me with your first act of stupidity, you’ve already received a death sentence in my heart.
However, “husband-chasing hell” is indeed entertaining. I was so happy reading the most popular husband-chasing story on this platform. My defense against books is quite low. As long as there’s no cheating, I can accept any serious book. If it’s on the banned list, it doesn’t really matter; I’ll read anything.
I really like Chu Xianning and Luo Yueguan in this book; I put a lot of effort into shaping them. In the already uploaded chapters that are saved, there are two chapters where the male lead and Chu Xianning are bickering that made me especially happy. I was chuckling sinisterly in front of my computer, feeling like I hadn’t written such a satisfying plot in a long time.
After becoming a professional writer, I discovered something hilariously strange: my mentality when reading web novels is different now. When I see a brilliant plot or a great scene, my first reaction is jealousy. Then, I start to ponder the core brilliance of that scene and how I can use it in my own writing. I begin to deconstruct what the author was thinking while writing it. It’s still enjoyable, but I feel I’ve lost some of the pure joy of being a reader.
Actually, I have a small premonition: I probably won’t become a hugely popular author. My world is too small. Even after writing so many words, my stories ultimately remain confined to romantic entanglements.
If you’ve read my previous release announcements or my urban novels, you’d know that I’m quite nihilistic about many things. Perhaps this is a form of self-protection. After being depressed for so long, I don’t crave many things. For life, I just need to eat and stay warm, and I feel very happy. I don’t need to stand out or be envied. Having enough to eat and a computer to play on makes me quite happy.
To this day, I’ve come to a principle that significantly increases happiness: aside from the objective facts of pain caused by illness and physiological factors, all other suffering stems from desires imposed by your values.
Every one of my books is fixated on love. If I were to dissect myself, it’s probably because I genuinely find love fascinating, above all else, but it only exists in fictional fantasies.
So, I’ve written many fantasies about love in my stories. I find it very interesting. In this restless era, it’s not that I don’t believe in so-called true love. It’s just that its existence is ultimately too slim. But illusions are beautiful.
Therefore, my design for many “satisfaction points” is weak, such as showing off, slapping faces, treasure hunting in secret realms, or achieving immortality. If you ask me if I’m completely indifferent, I can still enjoy reading “cool” novels with a chuckle. But when it comes to writing them, I feel a bit too nihilistic and don’t find much pleasure. So, I probably won’t become a great author. But just writing these fantasies about love, and coincidentally, some people like them, allowing me to earn a little money to eat, I think that’s pretty good.
Actually, I think I’m quite fortunate.
When I was a depressed kid, I felt the world was full of suffering, and I was an utter failure. Later, after receiving a lot of recognition for my writing, I became much happier. One day, I suddenly realized that so many people liked what I wrote. It was truly a joyous thing. It was precisely by realizing that I was recognized and accepted by others that I gradually stopped being that withdrawn, depressed kid.
Last night, I had a dream. I dreamt about something from my childhood. My stepmother lost four yuan, and my dad and stepmother interrogated me, asking where I went with the stolen money. As a child, tears streamed down my face. I could only cry and repeatedly insist I hadn’t taken it. Until, that evening, my stepmother suddenly remembered that she had put the four yuan elsewhere. Yet, no one apologized to me.
I remembered this for a very, very long time. I thought I would remember it forever. Last night, I suddenly dreamt of it, and when I woke up, I smiled with relief.
Growing up is about moving forward, not looking back.
……………………………………
Speaking of which, it suddenly reminds me of something I discussed with a friend a few days ago.
About story endings…
Let me quietly mutter something: actually, for all books up to the point where the main characters are constantly thinking about dating, I basically intended to have bad endings. Because back then, I was very depressed and wanted to destroy the world.
But I still wrote happy endings.
Because as I was writing, I realized something. When I was reading books, if the beginning didn’t indicate a tragedy, and the ending forced a sad resolution to disgust me, I would curse. My friend, life is already depressing enough, and I still have to be disgusted by this damn author writing books that way. It’s too much.
So, I basically stick to happy endings.
The reason I wanted to write this historical novel is also because of this. This historical novel is purely intended to write something very happy. You see the amusing plots inside, and you laugh heartily. That’s the goal. So, Jiang Xiaohu is a genius. So, his system is funny. So, he’s very lucky to be taken in by an iceberg fairy. I don’t want to bring any negativity into this book. In the old web novels I read, the construction of “satisfaction points” was inseparable from negativity.
However, it is somewhat reasonable. It’s precisely because of extreme oppression that reversals with strong negativity feel immensely satisfying. But this writing style feels quite torturous. So, I prefer a more lighthearted and cheerful approach. I don’t want people to feel pressured while reading this book. It’s purely for entertainment. When you’re resting, snuggled in your quilt, reading a couple of chapters and having a good laugh, I think that’s great.
……………………
I suddenly remembered.
Let me give a shout-out to my Bilibili live stream. Search for “合雪丶” on Bilibili. After I finish writing, I play League of Legends and Valorant to relax. I’ll see your requests for updates, but please be polite when you speak. Just like even a corporate slave has resting time, authors do too. It might seem like I only write for a short while each day, but I spend a lot of time thinking about plots.
Damn, I suddenly realized this rambling section is a full nine thousand characters long, enough to write three chapters for release and earn money.
So that’s it. Tonight at twelve o’clock sharp, the book will go on shelves with ten chapters!
If nothing unexpected happens, I might add more chapters this month after the release, possibly three updates for a few days.
For next month’s bonus chapter rules, I’ve thought about it a bit. Setting it too low means I won’t be able to finish, making me fall behind. Setting it too high doesn’t seem to have much meaning, so I’ll set it at 150 votes per chapter.
I prefer to slowly ponder the plot. The main reason is that writing too much daily content quickly can lead to flaws. This bonus chapter rule is a bit lazy. For every 150 votes, I’ll add one extra chapter on top of the daily update. But if the final vote count isn’t high, I’ll still double update daily until the end of the month.
To be honest, normally, bonus chapters are just a token gesture. Authors are willing to write more if they can, as writing an extra chapter means earning more money. Who wants to go against money? I consider myself diligent, but not a workaholic.
This bonus chapter rule is a form of encouragement for myself. Anyway, even if the monthly votes aren’t high, I’ll double update until the end of the month. If there are more monthly votes, I’ll triple update to fulfill the bonus chapter requirements. Tripling is close to my current limit. Beyond that, it’s not mainly my hands hurting, but my brain hurting from thinking about plots. Really.
Ok! I think I’ve said everything I needed to say!
Thank you again for your support of He Xue’s “Formal Historical Style.” I wish you all a happy and fulfilling day!
See you tonight at twelve o’clock!
