Chapter 49: Drafts Are More Than Enough

Xu Youyu's sighing on the sofa reminded Li Luo of when they were closest in his past life.

Back then, Xu Youyu's new novel was gaining momentum, yet it had not yet been selected as one of the Top Twelve Authors of the Year, and her online novel career was just beginning to show promise.

But it was also then that Xu Youyu, due to staying up all night writing ten thousand words daily to climb rankings, suffered a heavy menstrual flow and intense abdominal cramps in the middle of the night.

Li Luo received her call at three or four in the morning, got up in the dark, ran to her place, took her to the hospital for an IV drip, then brought her home to administer medicine and care for her.

It was during that time that Li Luo came daily to cook for her, and only then did Xu Youyu learn this guy had such a skill.

Even after her body had fully recovered, she pretended to still be unwell, constantly tricking him into cooking for her.

Later, Li Luo discovered her ruse but didn't expose her—he kept coming over daily to cook, and eventually even brought his laptop to her place to write alongside her.

Thinking of these memories, Li Luo snapped back to the present, looked at Xu Youyu on the sofa, and smiled knowingly.

"Mmm… smells so good." Ying Chanxi, freshly bathed and dressed in a panda pajama set, walked over from the hallway, wiping her hair with a towel.

Li Luo pushed a small bowl of fried rice onto the table and took the towel from her hand: "Sit down, I'll dry your hair."

"Oh." Ying Chanxi glanced sideways at Xu Youyu, then sat down with pursed lips, holding her bowl and chopsticks, sipping slowly while enjoying Li Luo's hair-drying service.

Xu Youyu, accustomed to this scene, rolled over on the sofa, slipped on slippers, and stretched: "I'm heading to my room then—go to bed early, tomorrow's military training's gonna be brutal."

"Senior, good night~"

"Mm, Xixi, good night."

"Senior." Li Luo turned, hairdryer in hand, toward Xu Youyu.

"Huh? What?" Xu Youyu tilted her head, puzzled.

"You haven't washed the dishes yet."

Xu Youyu: "..."

Watching Xu Youyu slink off to the kitchen to wash dishes, Li Luo continued drying Ying Chanxi's hair.

After finishing, Li Luo stretched, reminded Ying Chanxi to wash her own bowls and chopsticks, then turned and walked back to his bedroom.

He opened his computer and took a look.

On Friday, I Am Really Not a Star went live with 1,800 initial subscriptions—a result within expectations.

Maintaining a daily update of four thousand words, he'd earn five to six thousand yuan a month in royalties, enough to offset his family's mortgage payment.

Reaching this level, Li Luo's basic needs were already largely satisfied.

As for how high this book might eventually climb, time would tell.

Thinking this, Li Luo glanced at Xu Youyu's Literary Era.

After its launch, this book had just over 800 initial subscriptions, totaling over three thousand yuan in monthly royalties.

For a high school student, this amount was already substantial.

Even though Xu Youyu came from a decent family, after deducting normal food and rent expenses, her parents gave her only about five hundred yuan monthly as pocket money.

Compared to this three-thousand-yuan royalty income, calling it "wealth freedom for a high schooler" wasn't an exaggeration.

Li Luo recalled his own high school days in his past life—if he'd had three thousand extra yuan monthly pocket money, he couldn't imagine how carefree and confident he'd have been.

Thinking this, Xu Youyu really was impressive—she was already earning money from online novels in high school.

And at such a young age, her writing style and voice were already deeply distinctive, far beyond what Li Luo's amateur prose could match.

For Li Luo, he simply applied the well-worn tropes already exhausted by the online novel community, stitching together classic plot points and embedding each storyline with a famous work to complete his content.

In comparison, Li Luo's entertainment novels were classic upgrade-trope stories—endlessly repeatable if the author wished.

But Xu Youyu's Literary Era belonged to the plot-driven style: though it contained similar tropes, everything ultimately served the story the author wanted to tell.

Of course, the truly exceptional were those who could perfectly integrate upgrade tropes into an overarching narrative framework.

Something like the future Li Luo's favorite, The Master of Demonic Secrets, had reached this level.

Thinking this, Li Luo had already scheduled the next week's updates for automatic release.

Looking at the full 250,000 words in his draft folder, Li Luo felt deeply secure.

Even if he wrote not a single word from now on, these drafts would last him two months.

Just then, as Li Luo was about to shower, he received a QQ message.

【GoToSleepAndGrowTaller】: Big Boss, look!

【GoToSleepAndGrowTaller】: (image)

Li Luo glanced curiously, wondering what image Xu Youyu had sent him at this hour.

In his past life, he'd guess she'd sent some risqué picture.

But Xu Youyu was still a high school student now—she probably wouldn't go that far.

After careful inspection, indeed.

It was a word-count screenshot showing exactly ten thousand words.

【GoToSleepAndGrowTaller】: My draft is already ten thousand words—how's that, impressive?

In his past life, facing ten thousand words of draft, Li Luo would've definitely praised: "Awesome."

But now, reborn and holding 250,000 words of draft, Li Luo could only chuckle and send back a screenshot.

【Chongran】: Ten thousand draft words are impressive, but I can only say—you still need more practice.

【GoToSleepAndGrowTaller】:???

Sitting at her desk, Xu Youyu had been smugly awaiting Li Luo's "WOW!" reaction.

But when she saw the 250,000-word draft screenshot he sent, her eyes widened.

【GoToSleepAndGrowTaller】: How do you have so much draft? Over two hundred thousand words???

【Chongran】: I suggest you count again carefully.

Huh?

Seeing this, Xu Youyu frowned and examined the screenshot he sent—when she finally counted the exact word count, she froze in shock.

Two, two hundred fifty thousand characters?

Really?

Xu Youyu sat stunned in front of the computer, feeling his worldview violently shaken.

【EarlyToSleepTall】: Block him. I'm done talking.

【Chongran】: Don't lose heart; I've been saving this word count for a long time.

【EarlyToSleepTall】: How long?

【Chongran】: Less than two months.

【EarlyToSleepTall】: Block him! Block him! Get lost!

Less than two months? That's just from when you started writing until now!

She had only just reached two hundred fifty thousand characters, while Li Luo had already written five hundred thousand.

Is this even livable?

Xu Youyu thought angrily, then slammed the keyboard and replied.

【EarlyToSleepTall】: Wait and see! I'll surpass you eventually!

Li Luo won't be able to type during these military training days—she'd use this time to catch up!

But when she opened Word and was about to start, the full two hundred fifty thousand characters flashed in her mind, and her motivation vanished instantly.

Never mind.

Maybe this is just talent.

Thinking this, Xu Youyu got up, flopped onto the bed, and passed out.

Running away may be shameful, but it really works.

On the other side, Ying Chanxi washed the dishes, then took out the military training uniform issued by school and tried it on in her room.

Soon after, she knocked on Li Luo's door, looking troubled.

"What's wrong?" Li Luo opened the door and saw Ying Chanxi dressed in military green, asking in confusion.

"Do you have a belt?" Ying Chanxi tugged at her loose pant waist, "The uniform I got didn't come with a belt."