Chapter 201: Yan Zhusheng: I

At Lin Xiuhong's request, Li Luo reluctantly took out all the clothes and pants the three girls had given him and put them on.

Yan Zhusheng had bought him a high-neck beige sweater, paired with the dark blue down jacket Ying Chanxi had bought him and the black wide-leg cotton pants Xu Youyu had given him.

After swapping his school uniform for this new outfit, Li Luo, who was already handsome, suddenly took on a more trendy aura, gaining a touch of maturity he hadn't had when wearing his uniform.

If Li Luo walked out in this outfit and got a more fashionable haircut, no one would guess he was a Gao Zhongsheng.

"Looks pretty good," Lin Xiuhong nodded approvingly. "Finally looks like a proper person."

"What kind of thing is that to say?" Li Luo was speechless. "Didn't I look like a person before?"

"Who asked you to interrupt?" Lin Xiuhong shot him a look, then asked, "How did Xi Xi and the other two even think of giving you clothes together?"

"What's so strange about it?" Li Luo replied in confusion. "Isn't it normal for Xi Xi to give me a sweater? Yan Zhusheng gave me one because we're desk partners—I look out for her in class. As for the senior, she lives with us, and I make her late-night snacks all the time; giving me pants is normal too."

Lin Xiuhong looked at her son, then at her husband.

Li Guohong hesitated, then nodded. "Probably. It's normal for close classmates to exchange gifts."

This was already hard enough for Li Guohong.

After all, he'd been in high school back in the last century—how could he possibly know what today's teenagers were thinking?

"But," Li Guohong added, "since they gave you gifts, you should at least return one. Otherwise it'd be awkward."

"Oh, now that you mention it," Lin Xiuhong suddenly remembered, got up, walked into the bedroom, and brought out several scarves. "I knitted a few lately—take a couple."

Li Luo blinked, looked down at the scarves in his mother's hands, and wasn't surprised.

After all, for months before every Lunar New Year, Lin Xiuhong would do needlework after coming home from work—it had become a habit.

So he thought for a moment, then took one white, one orange-yellow, and one red scarf.

Seeing Li Luo take only three, Lin Xiuhong frowned. "Take another one. Replace the one around your neck—I have no idea where you even bought that."

"Uh…" Li Luo coughed twice and whispered, "This scarf was knitted by Xi Xi. I'll keep it."

Otherwise he'd probably get beaten to death.

At that, Lin Xiuhong and Li Guohong froze.

They didn't react for a long time.

"Xi Xi knitted this?" Lin Xiuhong asked again, confirming.

"Yeah."

"Alright," Lin Xiuhong put away the remaining scarves. "I'll take the clothes you bought—I'll deliver the ones for Grandpa and Grandma in a couple days. Let them be happy too."

After sorting out the clothes, Li Luo watched Lin Xiuhong pack them away, then suddenly remembered something. He turned to his parents. "There's another thing I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Li Guohong had just pulled out a cigarette to go relax on the balcony, but Li Luo stopped him, making him ask.

"It's about this—last month's royalty payment came out. It'll hit my bank account on the 12th."

"Oh, I know," Lin Xiuhong nodded. "So what?"

Because Li Luo was a minor, he couldn't open a bank account himself, so Lin Xiuhong had opened one for him. The personal information listed Li Luo, but two phone numbers could be registered.

One was the minor's own number, the other the parent's.

So Lin Xiuhong could, if she wanted, check the account balance via text message.

But out of trust in her son, she'd never checked proactively.

After all, Li Luo spent most of his time at school, and when he stayed at Bihai Lanting, Ying Chanxi was there watching over him—she had no reason to worry he'd suddenly spend wildly on nonsense.

Plus, Li Luo's grades were excellent. In Lin Xiuhong's eyes, he was the kind of kid who did good things and deserved praise, and even when he made mistakes, she'd pause to wonder if maybe it was actually good.

So her view of him no longer resembled suspicion toward a thief.

But the next sentence Li Luo spoke made his parents freeze.

"Last month's royalty was 45,000. After taxes, it's a bit over 40,000."

"What?" Lin Xiuhong froze. She felt like she'd been startled nonstop today. How long had it been since she'd asked about his writing? How had his royalty suddenly jumped again?

Were novels really this profitable these days?

It felt like picking up money.

Li Guohong stood stunned, his cigarette nearly falling from between his fingers.

"You're not mistaken, right? Over 40,000?" Li Guohong's voice cracked, his face filled with disbelief.

His wife and he worked tirelessly every day, opening their breakfast shop before dawn and closing late at night—and still earned less than Li Luo did by just writing.

Where could they even complain?

"Let me check," Lin Xiuhong trembled as she pulled out her phone to send a text for the account balance.

But Li Luo quickly reminded her: "Didn't I say? The royalty hits on the 12th. It's still two days away."

"Still, let me see how much is in there now," Lin Xiuhong said, already sending the text. She quickly received the bank's reply.

But when she saw the account balance displayed—over 500,000—she froze, stunned, unable to process it.

"…L-Li Luo!" Lin Xiuhong's voice rose sharply, alarmed. "Y-you… didn't you say it was only 40,000? And it hasn't even arrived yet! Where did this 500,000 come from?!"

"What?" Li Guohong blinked again, his brain nearly overloaded. He hurried over to his wife's side, glanced at the screen, then sucked in a sharp breath. "It really is 500,000!"

Hearing his parents, Li Luo himself was stunned.

In his memory, his total royalties, minus the mortgage payments for the past few months, were barely over 100,000.

Beyond that, he'd earned 120,000 and 90,000 from selling the copyrights of "Chasing the Light" and "Light"—totaling 300,000.

He'd planned to casually show off a bit in front of his parents and mention earning from selling songs.

But now, for some reason, his account had mysteriously gained another 200,000.

Li Luo frowned, leaned closer, checked again—yes, it really was over 500,000. He looked utterly confused.

"It should only be around 300,000. Why is there more?"

"What 300,000? You barely made 100,000 at most!" Lin Xiuhong frowned deeply. "Where did this money come from? Don't tell me you're involved in something shady!"

"Uh… calm down, don't panic. Let me make a call," Li Luo was uncertain too, but had a vague suspicion—he pulled out his phone and called Yan Zhusheng.

"Hello?" Yan Zhusheng answered almost instantly, not making Li Luo wait long. "Li Luo, what's up?"

"My parents are right here."

To be safe, Li Luo, who knew Yan Zhusheng well, decided to clarify first, in case Yan said something strange, then continued: "Is your mom home? I have something I'd like to ask her."

"Mom's not home. What do you want to ask?" Yan Zhusheng asked, puzzled.

"It's like this," Li Luo said simply. "Didn't Aunt Yuan buy two of my songs before? She paid me 210,000 total, but now my bank account has 500,000—200,000 more than before. I'm wondering if Aunt Yuan arranged that?"

"Oh, that?" Yan Zhusheng nodded. "Didn't you go with us for the interview last Saturday?"

"Originally, I wanted to invite you over to talk about the other copyright rights for 'Nianlun,' but the interview took up all the time, so we never got into details."

"But my mom is going to Qianjiang TV Station for the New Year's Eve show, and they specifically requested that song, so she had finance send you a payment upfront—I don't know the exact amount, but it should be around 200,000."

"Oh, that explains it," Li Luo nodded in understanding. "Then please thank Aunt Yuan for me. The copyright contract isn't urgent—we can sign it when we have time."

"Mm." Yan Zhusheng replied, then asked, "Have you tried on the sweater?"

"Uh… I have," Li Luo glanced at his parents, saw them listening intently, and wiped away a bead of sweat. "I've got nothing else here—I'm hanging up now."

"Huh?" Yan Zhusheng paused, then immediately said, "Hello, Uncle and Auntie! If you're hanging up, then… goodbye, Uncle and Auntie!"

Li Luo: "... You don't have to be so formal."

"She greeted us—why are you in such a hurry?" Lin Xiuhong snatched Li Luo's phone, shot him a look, then asked warmly—

"You're Zhusheng, right? I saw the sweater you sent him—it's so beautiful. I've prepared a scarf for you too; I'll have Li Luo bring it over. See if you like it."

"Oh!" Yan Zhusheng nodded happily. "Thank you, Auntie—I'm sure I'll love it."

"Zhusheng," Lin Xiuhong smiled, but couldn't suppress her confusion, pressing quickly: "Just now, you and Li Luo were talking about selling two songs and 'Nianlun' copyright fees—what does all that mean?"

"Oh, that?" Yan Zhusheng, hearing her ask, began explaining in full detail.

After about several minutes, Yan Zhusheng recounted everything about how Li Luo had sold several songs, finally helping Li Guohong and Lin Xiuhong understand the full story.

After exchanging another round of warm greetings and hanging up, Lin Xiuhong handed the phone back to her son and exchanged a complex glance with her husband.

They'd thought it was already insane that this kid made money writing novels—within just a few months, he'd saved over 100,000, and last month's royalty payment was outrageous: over 40,000.

But…

How did they not know he could write songs?

And even if he wrote songs, who actually bought them?

Just three songs earned him over 400,000!

"That doesn't make sense," Lin Xiuhong said, frowning at Li Guohong. "You're always reading this kid's books, right? Zhusheng said 'Nianlun' was originally written into his novel—how didn't you know?"

"Uh…" Li Guohong's face stiffened, then he chuckled awkwardly. "I skimmed that part—I thought 'Nianlun' was some old song I'd never heard, so I didn't pay attention."

"But Zhusheng said the song's popular," Lin Xiuhong questioned suspiciously. "You listen to Yuan Wanqing's songs all the time—how didn't you know?"

"I just listen to songs. Who pays attention to stuff like that?" Li Guohong looked utterly baffled.

He worked long hours at his breakfast stall every day—how could he care about online gossip?

But Li Luo couldn't help asking: "Didn't Qidian have a comment section? If you'd just glanced at it, you'd have known."

"I don't use your Qidian…" Li Guohong muttered. "Reading your book costs me several yuan a month. I'm your father—I shouldn't have to pay to read my own son's book."

Hearing this, Li Luo's face darkened. "So how the hell do you read it?"

"Aren't there free versions online?" Li Guohong whispered. "Do you know how hard it is to save up for cigarettes? You're making so much from royalties—what's a few bucks to you?"

Looking at Old Li's sneaky demeanor, Li Luo winced in pain.

It's one thing for classmates like Zhu Yufei and Zhang Guohuang to read pirated copies—they're students with no money—but you're his father, and you won't even support the legitimate version?

"Look at how stingy you are," Lin Xiuhong couldn't take it anymore. She patted his shoulder and waved her hand. "From now on, any cost for reading Li Luo's novels—I'll reimburse you."

Li Guohong: "... So I should thank my dear wife?"

"I'm not giving you extra money for cigarettes—smoking's bad for your health," Lin Xiuhong said. "Ask Li Luo if he supports it."

"Mom's right," Li Luo nodded firmly.

"Alright, that's enough for today. I'm going to take a shower," Lin Xiuhong rubbed her forehead and waved dismissively. "You little brat—you go and drop huge surprises on me. I need time to process this."

"Mom, I haven't told you yet," Li Luo added. "At the beginning of this month, the interview with Aunt Yuan was co-promoted with the website where I publish my novel."

"So this month's royalty payment will be far more than 40,000—probably over 100,000."

"And that's just one site. My novel's over a million characters—it'll be distributed to other sites too, so the royalties will be even higher."

"When next month's payment comes, you two better prepare yourselves."

At these words, Lin Xiuhong and Li Guohong instinctively held their breath, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

They had just realized.

Their son was… a little godlike.

In less than half a year, he'd nearly earned back the 600,000 to 700,000 they'd spent on their house.