Chapter 39

First, let's get straight to the point.

Thank you, reader brothers, for supporting me all along and bringing this book to today.

Rewards, votes, follow-up reads, and even comments.

Sincere thanks, and may you all become rich beyond measure.

Then, tonight, this book officially goes live.

Same old time as always.

At 00:01 on the 13th, I'll update at least three chapters first. (There might be a few minutes' delay before or after.)

Then I'll push hard during the day.

I'm deeply sorry.

Yu really overestimated himself—he originally planned to save a little writing every day, then unleash a blazing surge on launch day, stunning everyone!

But what happened?

Every time I wrote, I grew dissatisfied with the plot.

Then I'd cut my saved drafts and rewrite them.

From the book's launch until now, including scrapped openings, I've written at least tens of thousands of discarded words.

Even just two days ago, as launch neared, I cut three saved chapters myself because I thought it was dragging too much.

Plus, this book's genre is one where scrapped drafts become completely unusable.

With no other choice, I can only launch with this much.

To deliberately write more would hurt quality, but I'll still make up for the monthly vote bonuses.

Please, brothers, don't blame me—look at my sincerity.

Now, let me talk about updates after launch.

I'll guarantee two chapters daily (around ten thousand words).

Actually, each of Yu's chapters is quite long—always starting at four thousand, some nearing six thousand.

Of course, two chapters is just the minimum.

I'll try my best to write more while maintaining quality.

Update time remains the usual nightly slot—I'll post all that day's updates at once, so brothers can read their fill.

If something urgent delays me, I'll post a separate note.

Please, brothers, give strong support—I beg for first-subscription counts!!

Also, one more thing!

I am truly not anyone's alt account!!

To this day, I haven't published a single premium book on Qidian—otherwise, why would I be so anxious after achieving a little success that I can't sleep and break out in acne??

I've said this many times in the comments.

Yet people still assign me a new alias every day, claiming I'm some author's alt or another's alt.

Brothers!

I really wish I were.

But I truly am not!!!

So please, brothers, don't insult other authors or stir up drama about them in the comments.

I'll delete such posts immediately.

Now comes the rambling section.

I've always said I'd chat with brothers—so I might as well unburden myself now.

Brothers really can call me Old Man.

Though I've had no success on Qidian and every book flopped, I'm no newcomer.

In the second half of 2019, stuck at home with nothing to do, I took up this path out of interest.

Then, with barely noteworthy talent, I earned a little money.

How to put it?

Back then, I truly thought I was lucky.

I, someone with little education, had walked onto the path of literature—and even had a chance to earn and support myself.

At the time, I even felt the future was bright.

But perhaps because I was young, just as things began to improve, I didn't choose to keep moving forward.

Instead, I began chasing that so-called freedom.

While shouting "life is a wilderness," I drowned in play, squandering my energy and time recklessly.

But what even is freedom?

The world has always been fair.

When you stop progressing—or even regress—someone else will catch up, or even overtake you.

I was never someone who could be self-disciplined; I lost myself in play.

Predictable.

My downfall was inevitable.

Nearly three years of flopping drained my spirit and energy.

Nearly three years.

My mindset shifted from initial fearlessness, to growing anxiety, to frantic self-destruction.

Many author friends advised me.

Adjust your mindset. Stop being playful and find the right subject.

If you don't understand history, don't write history anymore.

Even this subject was given to me by a friend, meant to lift me up.

But sadly, I truly wasn't up to the task.

Back then, I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, causing me to waste countless opportunities.

People are always slow to realize things.

Perhaps if I hadn't gone home last year, I'd still be completely unaware of these problems.

Last August, I returned home for some business.

My hometown, you see.

There wasn't much entertainment.

I began to devote myself fully to creation, though at the time I had no intention of writing this subject.

But after writing several books in a row, none gained any traction.

The anxiety of life kept pressing in.

Finally, not knowing what else to write, I decided to try this subject again.

Then I wrote an opening and sent it to my friend, asking him to take a look.

I have to say, my friend is truly a good brother.

He carefully reviewed it from the author's perspective and thought it wasn't good enough.

Then he said, "I'll send it to my longtime readers, let them judge it from the reader's point of view."

"Sure," I said, full of hope, waiting for the readers' feedback.

True to form, the longtime reader's analysis was spot-on.

His critique cut deep, every word a blade.

He completely tore away my veil of self-deception—and the long robe I could never take off.

That night, I couldn't sleep at all; my Dao heart shattered, and I even considered quitting.

How can I describe how I felt that night?

Inner turmoil, anxiety, and confusion surged all at once.

I began pondering countless questions.

Approaching thirty, is this path still worth it?

With no reputation, no degree, no inheritance—what future awaits me if I keep going like this?

By some strange twist of fate,

The next day, I suddenly felt inspired and went to the small town where I'd taken my first job after leaving school.

Looking at the shop long since closed, its sign still hanging, countless thoughts flashed through my mind.

Ten years later, I felt as if I stood once more at a crossroads in life, forced to choose what came next.

If the spring breeze has pity for the flowers, can it grant me youth once more?

That day, the boy I once was seemed to truly return.

Suddenly, my inspiration flooded forth.

All the plot problems that had stumped me were resolved at once.

In just two days, I devised an extensive plot.

Gu Xiao, Gu Kang, Gu Sheng, Gu Xi—all were born in those two days.

I drew connections between the plot's beginning and end by studying how two Emperors in history reacted to eclipses.

I also mapped out each of their development paths.

And the subsequent plotlines… (No spoilers!!! All I can say is Gu Xi's moment of glory will be blazing!)

I rushed home and started writing the novel.

I decided to give it my all before the New Year.

Don't understand history?

Then study history carefully.

Lack self-discipline?

Then set your own update schedule and impose pressure on yourself.

Poor attitude?

Then force yourself to change—any plot you're unsatisfied with, no matter how much you've saved, delete it and rewrite it.

Give it your absolute best—this one last time.

But even so, the initial results were disappointing.

Nine days after launching, I received my first recommendation vote;

Eleven days after launch, the novel got its first comment—still under 120 collections.

This was an abysmally terrible statistic.

But perhaps it was precisely because I'd staked everything.

I felt no emotional turmoil over these numbers; instead, I remained utterly confident.

How could the plot conceived in that state be worse than what I'd written during years of anxiety?

I kept writing, holding onto that mindset.

Indeed, after the novel was featured in the trial recommendation, everything changed dramatically.

Day one: over three hundred collections;

The second day. Over five hundred bookmarks;

Eleven days, one hundred and twenty bookmarks? Trash data?

No!

Seventeen days, two thousand two hundred bookmarks!

Over a thousand active readers!

To this very day, there are nearly thirty thousand bookmarks, and I've PK'd my way onto every recommendation slot of the new book period.

As for how the launch results will turn out

It all depends on you all; I cannot force it either.

For me, although I can't say I've written the entire pre-launch plot to perfection, I've at least poured out everything I had.

No matter what, I should finally set down the heart that's been hanging in suspense all this time.

Ha. I originally thought I had a whole pile of things to say, but when the moment came, I didn't know what to say after all.

I won't say more.

Please, everyone, give me your support.

Give this author a first subscription, give this author a monthly ticket.

Yu kowtows repeatedly.

And finally, it's time to sacrifice my good brother's book.

"I Really Didn't Want to Play Go!", author: Mountain Soil Clod

He's also a veteran author, with results far better than mine.

A hot-blooded urban competitive novel with over twenty thousand average subscriptions and over ten thousand active subscriptions.

Even though I don't understand Go at all, reading it still gets me fired up.

I really wish I could snatch ten thousand average subscriptions from him (dog head).

Brothers who like this type can go check it out.

I've put the link below.

That's all.

Begging for first subscriptions!!! Begging for monthly tickets!!!

(End of this chapter)