Chapter 37: Another Thirty-Plus Thousand in the Account; Song Chao Reads the Book

"Cao Sheng, more good news for you. Because the publisher has decided to increase the first print run to fifty thousand copies, your advance payment has also gone up. The royalty has already been deposited into your bank account today. Please check and confirm receipt. If there are any issues, let me know right away.

Also, in the past few days, the pre-order count for your book has increased by another ten thousand-plus. The total pre-orders have now passed thirty-three thousand copies. Our finance team is overwhelmed — several editors, myself included, have been pulled in to help tally things up these past few days. Heh heh.

Oh right, one more thing I need to mention in advance. The publisher is currently considering whether to keep increasing the first print run. If they do, the promotional push afterward will definitely be stronger too, and at that point you may need to take on some media interviews.

Also, given how hot your book is right now, the publisher is considering holding a few book-signing events for you, hoping to use this method to boost sales. If we really do hold signings, I hope you can cooperate and make a few trips. Don't worry — we won't let you work for free; you'll get a travel allowance. Coincidentally, summer break is almost here, so you should have time. I'm giving you a heads-up now so you can be mentally prepared. Try to keep this summer free and avoid making other plans.

Finally, congratulations once again.

— Wang Jing"

Reading the email word by word, Cao Sheng's eyes crinkled with a smile.

He hadn't expected to receive the second royalty payment for this book so soon.

Last time, when the publisher decided on a first print run of 5,000 copies, after deducting Under the Banyan Tree's share, the royalty that reached his hands was only about three thousand yuan.

It wasn't even as much as the per-installment fee Xinchang Publishing paid him.

At the time, he had thought to himself: if these 5,000 copies didn't all sell, there'd be no follow-up royalties — this book would have been a loss.

Two hundred eighty thousand characters total, and he earned only about three thousand yuan. Meanwhile, his *I Want to Become an Immortal*, published in Taiwan, paid him four thousand per installment of sixty-five thousand characters.

Which was the better deal — obvious at a glance.

But now?

The first print run went from 5,000 copies to 50,000 — a tenfold increase.

By rights, the royalty should have increased tenfold too, which would be over thirty thousand.

About an hour later.

At the campus ATM of Huizhou Teachers' College, Cao Sheng saw that his account balance had indeed increased by over thirty thousand.

The total amount on this card of his had now become over seventy thousand yuan.

At this rate of earning, it was no lower than his pre-rebirth income from writing.

Is eating alone really this satisfying?

When he exited from the bank card screen, this thought flashed through his mind.

Before his rebirth, he was just one of many authors on Qidian. When things went well, he could earn around two hundred thousand a year; when his books flopped, his annual income was only a few tens of thousands.

And the books he wrote always flopped more than they succeeded.

But now?

As the first person in this timeline to write web novels, it seemed he had eaten the first bite of meat. He should be the first to publish a web novel in traditional characters, and the first to publish one in simplified characters too.

Although the two books he had written after his rebirth hadn't earned a single cent online, in just half a year, his publishing royalties plus the signing fee from Under the Banyan Tree had already totaled over seventy thousand yuan.

If that isn't eating meat, what is?

Seventy-plus thousand yuan in '98 — in Huizhou city, it might buy two or three hundred-square-meter apartments; building a house back home, it could build at least ten three-bay single-story houses, or even more.

Buying property in his hometown county seat, it could probably buy seven or eight apartments.

He estimated that, at his recent rate of earning, perhaps this year he would not only have the money to rebuild the family house back home, but might also have enough left over to buy a small courtyard he liked here in Huizhou.

If he were content with modest wealth, he could take half this money to build a new house back home, and save the rest until after graduation — then go home and use the money to marry a beautiful wife.

With that much money, plus his college diploma, the pretty Misses from the surrounding villages back home would probably be at his pick.

He remembered that the bride price back home in those days was very low.

Bride prices in the tens of thousands — he had never heard of such a thing growing up.

Some people got married without paying a single cent in bride price.

For slightly better-off families, it was only a few thousand yuan.

Of course, having lived a second life, although he had no ambition to punch out Ma Huateng or trample Jack Ma underfoot, he wouldn't be so unambitious as to rush into the life of a wife, kids, and a warm bed this early.

……

That midnight.

Song Chao, who slept on the lower bunk beneath Cao Sheng, went to an internet café off-campus to pull an all-nighter. Ever since hearing that Cao Sheng had written a novel published on Under the Banyan Tree, Song Chao had learned to go online.

At first, he had learned to go online simply because he wanted to find Cao Sheng's *Days Living with a Flight Attendant*, which was about to be published.

He wanted to see whether Cao Sheng's book had really taken off online, and if so, how big the buzz had gotten.

But daytime internet fees were too expensive.

Five yuan an hour — he couldn't bear to spend it.

His family wasn't very well-off either.

So he followed Cao Sheng's example and pulled all-nighters at internet cafés. He had asked Cao Sheng and learned that an overnight package cost only fifteen yuan.

Fifteen yuan wasn't a small amount either, but he figured he could afford to come pull an all-nighter and play around once in a while.

Tonight, though, he had come to the internet café to read Cao Sheng's book cover to cover — to see how well Cao Sheng had actually written it, and what on earth gave it the right to be published.

In his entire life, he had never met a real-life author.

Now one had appeared right in his dorm — and happened to sleep on the bunk above him. His curiosity had long since gone through the roof.

A few days earlier, he had asked Cao Sheng for the manuscript.

Cao Sheng hadn't been stingy — he had handed him a stack of handwritten drafts. Not only Song Chao read them, but the other guys in the dorm did too.

But…

It was all like reading a book from the heavens.

Apart from the title *Days Living with a Flight Attendant*, which was written fairly neatly, every other character on that draft notebook looked like ghost-scribbles.

Way too scrawled!

By squinting and guessing, he could barely make out some of it, but there were still plenty of characters he simply couldn't recognize no matter how hard he tried.

He asked Cao Sheng, "Your handwriting isn't usually this hard to read! How did the manuscript end up like this?"

Cao Sheng's answer left him utterly speechless.

Cao Sheng said: "It's just a draft—I only need to recognize it myself. Write it messy, write it fast. When writing, your hand must keep up with the speed of your thoughts; if you write too slow, your thoughts will break, and once they break, it's hard to pick up where you left off. If you want to read my book, wait until I get the proof copy from the publisher—I'll let you read it slowly then."

Song Chao had originally planned to wait until Cao Sheng's proof copy arrived before reading it.

But he underestimated his own curiosity.

These days, his curiosity about Cao Sheng's book grew stronger and stronger.

Finally, he couldn't hold back anymore—he gritted his teeth and spent fifteen yuan to book an all-night internet cafe session, planning to read Cao Sheng's book on the internet cafe computer.

Time slipped away slowly.

Song Chao flipped through "Living with the Flight Attendant" chapter by chapter.

The more he read, the more astonished he became.

He was astonished by Cao Sheng's mature writing style, by the smooth flow of the plot, and even more by the vividness of the male and female leads.

The comedic mishaps that occurred as the male lead, Ding Yang, pursued Ran Jing made Song Chao unconsciously smile.

Ran Jing's beauty, gentleness, and tolerance, along with the sadness always lurking in her eyes when she was alone, stirred in Song Chao a desire to protect her.

Over two hours later, when he finally finished all the chapters currently serialized on Rongshu Xia, he discovered the story had ended…

Ended?

Song Chao's expression turned stunned—he was just getting into it!

The story had ended? It left him stunned and hollow with loss.

And anger toward Cao Sheng—this guy had clearly finished the book long ago; the manuscript was locked in his dorm desk drawer, yet he hoarded it and refused to publish. Was this something a person could do?

Most infuriating—he had scraped together fifteen yuan from his living expenses to book this all-night session, and now it was only 2 a. m., hours before dawn. How was he supposed to fill the remaining time?

Hadn't he just wasted the fifteen yuan?

He should've just come to the internet cafe during the day and read for two hours—if he read fast, he could've finished all the chapters in two hours and saved five yuan!

He planned to confront Cao Sheng as soon as he returned tomorrow morning.