Chapter 57: A Bright Spot After a Dark Turn

Under the banyan tree during the meeting.

Huizhou.

Under the main bridge of Xinanjiang, Cao Sheng was fishing.

When men reach middle age, they often develop the habit of fishing.

Before his rebirth, he had already formed this habit.

After being cooped up at home typing for too long, he wanted to go out and soak up the sun, breathe in the fresh outdoor air; fishing became a very good choice.

A fishing rod, two sets of fishing lines, a bottle of wine-soaked rice, a box of earthworms; sitting by the river for most of the day, and when returning, he could even bring back some catch to cook a fresh fish dish, paired with a little wine.

That taste was absolutely a rare enjoyment.

And his current courtyard was bought right by the banks of Xinanjiang; pushing open the courtyard gate, crossing the road, and he was at Xinanjiang. Living in such a place, it was truly hard for him to resist coming to the riverbank to cast a couple of lines.

Coincidentally, he had no habit of typing in the morning, so he came here under the big bridge early this morning.

In front was the slowly flowing river water, beside was an antique-style stone bridge, and behind was a long row of weeping willows along the embankment, with willow branches four or five meters long swaying gently in the wind.

The feeling of fishing under such tree shade made one reluctant to leave.

The fish were biting well today; there was always a fish taking the bait.

It was just that the fish caught were a bit small.

Almost all were finger-sized small fish; occasionally, one or two palm-sized small crucian carp could be caught.

But Cao Sheng was still fishing very happily.

He didn't mind the fish being small; small fish could be stewed later into a small mixed-fish hotpot, and the taste would also be very good.

The temperature in mid-August gradually climbed as the sun rose higher.

Thus, he gradually cast his hook into the shady spot under the big bridge.

Fish were still taking the bait.

Moreover, the fish bodies were slightly larger than before; occasionally, a palm-sized crucian carp could be caught.

Until past 11 a. m., when the fishing conditions worsened, he packed up his things and headed home.

Walking for three or five minutes, he arrived at his house.

Entering the courtyard, putting down the fishing gear, he began to prepare today's catch.

Removing scales and gills, gutting them.

Pan-frying, spraying with cooking wine, aged vinegar, dark soy sauce, light soy sauce, adding water, water chili, chicken essence, MSG, white sugar for seasoning...

Adding a piece of tender tofu to stew together; after stewing for a while with a gurgling sound, the aroma became very rich.

Children who grew up in the countryside, few of them couldn't cook.

Before his rebirth, he lived alone for a long time; he neither liked eating out nor liked takeout, so he got used to buying groceries and cooking himself.

So, his cooking skills were decent.

After all, back then, almost any recipe could be found on the internet; for someone like him who already knew how to cook, learning some home-style dishes by following recipes was very simple.

While the mixed-fish hotpot was still gurgling on the stove, he stir-fried a portion of small green vegetables and cooked a large bowl of mushroom meatball soup.

The rice had already been cooking in the rice cooker.

Past 12 p. m.

He moved a folding small dining table under the osmanthus tree in the courtyard and placed the two cooked dishes and one soup on the small dining table.

Then he brought out a bottle of iced beer.

Just sitting under the tree shade, eating the tender small mixed fish and tofu, accompanied by beer, occasionally taking a chopstick of small green vegetables to cleanse the palate, or drinking two sips of mushroom meatball soup, his heart was filled with satisfaction.

The bright sun hung high in the sky.

Under the osmanthus tree, a gentle breeze blew; the breeze carried a hint of coolness from Xinanjiang, and the fresh scent of willow leaves could also be smelled.

The only slight regret was that the osmanthus tree in the courtyard had not yet bloomed.

But it should be soon.

After some time, sitting under this tree to eat, one could smell the fragrance of osmanthus flowers, and the appetite might even improve a bit.

Such days, before his rebirth, were what he longed for.

At that time, he had grown tired of living in high-rise buildings.

His heart deeply missed the single-story houses he lived in during childhood.

There were no others upstairs, and no residents downstairs.

Every day, he wouldn't be affected by noise from upstairs, nor would he have to worry about the day the residents downstairs had a sewage backup in their bathroom, causing him to inexplicably end up sitting in the defendant's seat in court.

Such courtyard life, before his rebirth, he had not been able to realize; after his rebirth, however, it was realized so quickly.

His heart couldn't help but feel some emotion.

Then he thought of the new house being built in his hometown, wondering if the main structure was finished yet?

There was no telephone at home, and it seemed no one in the village had a telephone yet; he planned to take some time before the new semester started to go back and take a look.

For the new house in his hometown, besides providing the money, he didn't put in any physical labor.

Only before leaving, he drew a simple set of blueprints for his parents.

He didn't know what the final built result would look like.

Afternoon.

Second-floor study.

Cao Sheng sat in front of a brand-new computer, eyes looking at the screen, while his ten fingers seemed to tap continuously and casually on the keyboard.

Lines of text, as his ten fingers danced on the keyboard, constantly appeared in the computer document.

Touch typing, for him, had long been as natural as eating and drinking.

Typing was his livelihood skill.

Tapping keys had long become his instinct.

When he wanted to type a character, he didn't need to look at the keyboard; the moment a character flashed in his mind, without him thinking much, his hands would type it out a step ahead.

It was just that easy.

Finally, he didn't have to write manuscripts by hand.

Except that the keyboard wasn't as good as the one before his rebirth, everything else was very nice.

Oh, and there was the air conditioning.

The cool air from the AC finally let him endure the summer heat no more.

While Cao Sheng was enjoying his little days.

Zhu Weilian, the site administrator of Rongshuxia, was personally on the phone with the person in charge of Huacheng Publishing House, discussing the royalty split for Cao Sheng's new book.

Neither party in the ongoing discussion felt good.

Zhu Weilian: "Director Xu, is there really no room to negotiate?"

Director Xu: "Old Zhu! It's not that there's no room to negotiate, it's that we can't negotiate! By all rights, since his first book sold so well, for the publication of his second book, we should have raised his royalty tier. We previously mentioned 8%, but he disagreed. Fine, no problem! We can talk. Giving him 10% isn't out of the question, and even a bit higher, giving him 11%, isn't completely impossible.

But you say he wants 14%? How is that possible?

Yes! I admit his last book sold very well, and this current one, 'I Wish to Become an Immortal', looks very popular on your website right now, but..."

He paused, then continued: "But, Old Zhu! We are old friends, so let me say a few words from the heart, okay?"

Zhu Weilian: "Go ahead."

Director Xu: "Hmm, how to put it? Take the genre of his last book! 'Days Living with an Airline Stewardess' is a typical love story. This kind of story naturally suits all demographics; regardless of gender, age, or youth, everyone can read it and has interest in reading it.

But what about this book he is writing now, 'I Wish to Become an Immortal'?

I admit the opening of this book is written with great novelty, the writing level is not bad, it is very attractive, and I personally like reading it."

Zhu Weilian: "Then why aren't you willing to compromise a bit?"

Director Xu: "Listen to me finish!"

Zhu Weilian: "Fine, go on!"

Director Xu: "But this 'I Wish to Become an Immortal' is a Xianxia theme. The two words 'Xianxia' sound grand, but in the current publishing market, it counts as a completely new theme, and also a very niche theme. Many people might have absolutely no interest in this theme. Do you understand what I mean?"

Zhu Weilian frowned. "How is that possible? This book is very popular on our website..."

Director Xu interrupted him, "What does that prove? Everyone who goes to your website likes reading novels, and there are also many of his fans. It's not strange that they like this book. It's like during the New Year, when you are on a train, you will find that all passengers have tickets, but can you therefore conclude that everyone bought a ticket for this year's Spring Festival travel rush? You can't, right?"

Zhu Weilian: "So, you absolutely will not agree to 14%? Correct?"

Director Xu: "If he insists on 14%, then I indeed have no way to agree."

In the following days, the editors of Rongshuxia each used their connections to contact other publishing houses in the mainland.

Because of Cao Sheng's current fame and the quality of 'I Wish to Become an Immortal', several publishing houses were indeed interested in publishing it.

But the replies from several consecutive publishing houses all refused to give a 14% royalty split.

Until one morning a week later.

An editor came to report to Zhu Weilian.

"Boss, good news! Changjiang Literature and Art Publishing House replied to me. They are interested in 'I Wish to Become an Immortal'. I told them the minimum royalty must be 14%. They didn't flatly refuse, but they want to add a few prerequisites. What do you think?"