Chapter 80: Mei Mei, and Two More Good News

Today at the Nanjing book signing, I saw the author—he's so damn hot! How can someone this good-looking also have such amazing novel sales? It's not fair! I'm so jealous!

The pen name "Central Plain One Ash" is so misleading! Makes you think the guy's ugly, but seeing him in person, you realize he should be called "Central Plain One Handsome"!

Central Plain One Ash! I love you! Do you have a girlfriend? If you do, would you mind switching? If you don't want to switch, how about adding one?

Damn! I already read most of the first volume online—I got ripped off buying this book! But the later plot is still awesome; thinking about it, maybe I didn't lose out after all.

When's the second volume coming out? Taiwan's already released the tenth volume! The simplified Chinese version of volume two should be ready anytime—hurry up! Why are you dragging your feet?

Big brother! It's Mei Mei! You're a famous writer now? I saw your photo in the news and was stunned! Too bad you didn't come to Hangzhou for this signing—I would've shown up in person to support you! I told my coworkers you're my cousin, and they didn't believe me—they said I don't even look like I have a famous writer cousin! It made me so mad! Big brother, please reply to me—I want to show them!

…

In front of his computer, Cao Sheng felt surprised when he saw this review.

Cousin? Mei Mei?

He did have a cousin named "Mei Mei"—after junior high graduation, she'd gone to Hangzhou to work, so could this post really be from my cousin?

After thinking it over, he logged into his author account and replied to Mei Mei: "Take my advice—don't prove to your coworkers that he's your cousin, or they'll force you to treat them."

He had firsthand experience with this.

Previously, when his dorm mates found out he'd published a novel, they'd teased him relentlessly until he treated them.

After replying, Cao Sheng continued reading other posts.

Meanwhile.

In a Hangzhou internet cafe.

Mei Mei, who had posted a comment on her cousin's book page minutes earlier, refreshed the review section again—and when she saw Cao Sheng's reply, her surprise turned to frowning hesitation.

Her expression was uncertain.

Logic told her—he's right. If I really prove he's my cousin, they'll definitely pressure me to treat them.

Earning money isn't easy; she didn't want to spend it.

But inside, she desperately wanted to prove she hadn't been bragging—that Central Plain One Ash really was her cousin.

Should she show them her cousin's reply?

She was torn.

…

The next morning, Cao Sheng returned to his school classroom and sat down in a back-row seat when his former downstairs roommate, Song Chao, approached with books and notebooks and sat beside him.

Cao Sheng looked over; Song Chao smiled and placed a soft-covered notebook before him, speaking softly with a hint of embarrassment: "Cao Sheng, I wrote a novel—I've already written a lot of words. Could you read it and tell me how it is? Please take a look."

Song Chao had previously told Cao Sheng he wanted to write a novel and hoped Cao Sheng could teach him.

Cao Sheng remembered this.

But after so long without seeing Song Chao write anything, Cao Sheng assumed Song Chao had given up on writing.

He never expected Song Chao to suddenly bring the novel today.

Cao Sheng looked at Song Chao, smiled, and nodded. "Alright, wait a moment."

Cao Sheng opened Song Chao's notebook. Since they were good friends, he was willing to spend some time reading Song Chao's work.

Clearly, Song Chao had written this novel seriously—his handwriting was neat and clear, not scribbled like Cao Sheng's own early handwritten drafts, which had been wild and nearly illegible.

But…

After reading a while, Cao Sheng noticed Song Chao had fallen into the common trap of most new writers—too slow to get to the point; the first five or six hundred words showed no highlights, over half of them devoted to environmental description, then protagonist's inner thoughts.

Was this writing style acceptable?

Actually, it was.

If Song Chao already had some fame and a loyal fanbase, he could open his novel however he wanted—his loyal readers would patiently keep reading.

But did Song Chao have loyal fans?

Still, Cao Sheng remembered that back then, few authors wrote novels, and readers had few works to choose from, so Song Chao's opening wasn't too problematic.

Unlike around 2020, when a new author who couldn't deliver a compelling hook within the first three or five hundred words was practically guaranteed to flop.

Because readers then had too many choices.

Each one was less patient than the last.

Most books, once the title failed to interest them, their eyes moved on immediately.

Cao Sheng patiently read two more pages, then closed the notebook and turned to Song Chao. "Not bad! But there's plenty of room to improve—if you really love writing novels, keep pushing yourself! Keep going!"

Actually, he'd spotted many problems.

For example: the opening plot was too dull, the pacing too slow, it seemed like showing off prose, and there was a misunderstanding of what writing skill meant.

Song Chao had committed nearly every mistake a new writer could make.

But Cao Sheng knew what new writers wanted to hear most.

—Encouragement. Recognition.

Perhaps his encouragement would help Song Chao keep writing for a long time.

If he told Song Chao all the flaws outright, Song Chao might lose all motivation to continue after hearing them.

He'd been through the new writer stage himself—he understood their psychology too well.

"Really? You really think I wrote it well?"

Song Chao was astonished, almost disbelieving.

Cao Sheng smiled and nodded.

Song Chao's eyes lit up. "Then do you think my book has a chance at publication?"

Cao Sheng: "..."

After a few seconds of silence, Cao Sheng gave a slight shake of his head. "Not yet. I just said—you still have a lot of room to improve. If you truly aim for publication, first write ten thousand words and show me."

Song Chao had written about twenty to thirty pages—roughly ten to twenty thousand words. Based on Cao Sheng's experience, this was already the limit most new writers reached.

Only by breaking through this limit and persisting to write over 100,000 words can you possibly make a living as a web novel writer; if you can't break through, there's nothing more to say.

While Cao Sheng and Song Chao were talking, several classmates smiled and gathered around Cao Sheng, sitting near him; after the recent National Day holiday, Cao Sheng had taken another week off, and everyone knew he had gone out again for book signings in the past week, so they had many questions to ask him.

For example: Which cities did you visit for this book signing?

For example: How many copies of "I Wish to Become an Immortal" have been sold in mainland China?

For example: Did any especially beautiful female fans show up at this book signing?

And so on.

…

That afternoon, Cao Sheng's class had only two lessons.

After the two lessons ended, school was dismissed, and it was still early for dinner.

Cao Sheng rode his bicycle to the vegetable market.

Since buying a house on Binjiang Road to make commuting to school easier, he had bought this bicycle for transportation.

He bought over a pound of pork ribs, returned to the courtyard on Binjiang Road, cleaned the ribs, placed them in a clay pot with water, and set it on the stove to simmer.

Once simmered, adding some rice noodles would solve his dinner for the day.

Evening.

He carried the clay pot of simmering pork rib rice noodles into the study, placed it in front of his computer, and prepared to eat while browsing the internet.

Living alone here for a long time was quite boring.

He gradually developed the habit of eating while surfing the internet.

Time passed slowly.

When half the pork rib rice noodles in the clay pot had been eaten, Cao Sheng logged into his email to check for new messages.

And there indeed was one.

It was again from Wang Jing — "Cao Sheng, I have two good pieces of news for you. First, the additional 200,000 copies printed by Huacheng Publishing House have sold out, and they've printed another 200,000 copies; I hear your book's sales have surged again recently, and I suspect it's because your newly released 'I Wish to Become an Immortal' has boosted its sales. By the way, Huacheng Publishing House has transferred the advance royalty for the latest 200,000 copies to you — remember to check your account."

The other good news is: The sales of 'I Wish to Become an Immortal' in recent days have given Changjiang Literature great confidence; they plan to strike while the iron is hot and quickly prepare to publish the second volume of this book, so send me another 150,000 words! By the way, Changjiang Literature has also transferred the royalty for the first volume to you — please check your account."