Chapter 17#
Song of the Earth updated again.
After going premium, the plot of the novel gradually unfolded and got on the right track. For the sake of the readers following the story, and to keep himself from slacking off, Qiao Jing updated one chapter at a fixed time every day, with occasional bonus chapters.
But the readers, whose appetites were growing larger and larger, were clearly not satisfied with a mere few thousand words.
As Xun Ge’er (Lu Xun) said: “Updates are like water in a sponge. As long as you pick up the author and give them a squeeze, there will always be some!”
Mr. Zhou (Lu Xun): “Ptui! I never said that!”
Regardless, everyone was happy to see comments urging for updates.
The readers wanted to see more of the plot, the academic world wished Qiao Jing would update thirty thousand words a day, and the state was even more thirsting for “Yan Heqing” than for any talent in history. If it weren’t for the historical precedent of “thrice visiting the thatched cottage” and the tradition of treating talent with favor, they would have long ago locked down Liuliu Web’s servers and forced Yan Heqing to write stories only for them to see!
In summary, the three parties reached a consensus in the comment section of Song of the Earth:
Urge for updates!
As long as he doesn’t die from updating, keep updating until he does!!
“Great God, look at us readers who are wailing for food and banging our bowls waiting for updates!!!”
Qiao Jing: Sorry, I can’t see you.
In fact, he was currently facing the eternal, unsolvable problem that every creator encounters.
He had writer’s block.
008 was very confused: “Don’t you have an outline? Just follow the outline.”
“Outlines can change; my hands have thoughts of their own.” Qiao Jing sat before the computer with a gloomy face, staring blankly at a blank Word document. “And if I can’t write it, I just can’t. You can kill me and I still won’t be able to write it.”
He suddenly stood up abruptly, pacing around the room irritably. His fierce expression made 008 tremble with fear.
Writer’s block… is actually this scary!?
“T-then, do you want to agree to Jing Xinglan’s invitation and go out with him to get some fresh air?” it asked cautiously.
“Ah—what did you say?” Qiao Jing twisted his head around with a distorted face, glaring at it fiercely.
008 was so scared by his expression that its fur stood on end, and it almost let out a “meow” and started crying: “I-I-I didn’t say anything!”
But Qiao Jing calmed down, returning to his previous cold appearance. He stood in the room with his head lowered, long bangs covering his eyes. After a while, the young man let out a soft sigh.
“Fine. I hope it helps.”
But before that…
Qiao Jing turned his gaze toward the computer.
He had to take a leave of absence first.
“What? The author took a leave!?”
Han Youpeng, who was leading his students and preparing to analyze the update of Song of the Earth at the first opportunity, stared through his reading glasses at the glaring leave-of-absence note on the screen. He felt as if his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys were all trembling together.
Don’t think he didn’t know just because he was old; “everything is difficult at the start,” and once there’s a first time, there’s a second. Many authors, after their first time taking leave, enter an endless hell of delayed updates and “rotten tail” endings!
If it were some other novel that had a bad ending or stopped updating, so be it, but if Song of the Earth also stopped…
Han Youpeng looked at the chip he had only researched halfway, feeling as if the dawn he had just glimpsed after so much hard work had just gone “crack” and been extinguished.
“Supervisor, actually…” the student beside him really wanted to remind him that the author had only taken one day off, it wasn’t that they weren’t coming back.
But seeing the “world-ending” expression on Han Youpeng’s face, he wisely decided to remain silent.
It couldn’t be helped; everyone working under Academician Han knew that he was overly serious and strove for perfection. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have led the country to carve out a bloody path amidst the monopoly and encirclement of foreign chip companies.
Now they finally had hope of having their own voice in this field. Han Youpeng didn’t want to waste even a minute, let alone a day!
“You guys go to the lab first and organize the materials on hand,” he said with a cold face. “I’ll stay behind to write something.”
He, Han Youpeng, betting his reputation for having produced twenty PhDs, must make sure Yan Heqing finishes Song of the Earth properly!
Qiao Jing, sitting in the tea house, suddenly shuddered.
“What is it?” Jing Xinglan asked concernedly from across the table. “Are you cold?”
“…No.” Qiao Jing picked up the teacup in front of him and lowered his head to take a sip as a cover. “Just a bit unaccustomed.”
The tea house wasn’t noisy, but the thought that the people sitting at the table not far away were all his readers made him feel uncomfortable all over.
“Don’t be nervous,” Jing Xinglan comforted him. “Everyone is a fellow enthusiast. It’s just getting together offline to talk about the books and authors we like; it’s no big deal.”
Qiao Jing: That’s exactly what makes it unbearable, okay!
Jing Xinglan watched Qiao Jing drinking tea desperately. The earlobes hidden by the black hair were faintly tinged with a light pink. He thought to himself: No way, after not meeting for years, has Qiao Jing developed to the point where even talking to strangers makes him flush?
He couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless: “Then I’ll head over first. If you’re ready, come over as well.”
Qiao Jing gave a muffled “Mm.”
As expected, after seeing Jing Xinglan, that group of people all showed expressions of surprise and delight.
“What a handsome guy!” the female readers were very surprised. “I really didn’t expect you to be so handsome, Mr. Jing!”
Jing Xinglan gave a slight smile: “You flatter me. I just pay more attention to image management usually.”
He quickly shifted the topic to other aspects, very casually taking control of the direction of the discussion.
Qiao Jing actually quite envied this ability of his. He felt that in his life, he probably wouldn’t be able to speak properly in front of a group of people. Even back in school, in group discussions, he was always the silent one who was overlooked.
Online, the words he wrote were appreciated by countless people word by word; but in reality, no one was even willing to settle down and listen properly to a single sentence he said.
Over time, Qiao Jing couldn’t be bothered to speak anymore.
The discussion on the other side continued.
“My favorite is Jing Hua Shui Yue’s book Road to Heaven,” a reader said enthusiastically, flipping through the hardcover edition he had specifically brought from home. “It’s so well-written! I copied a few sentences from it during my Gaokao, and as a result, the grader gave me an unprecedentedly high score! I owe being able to get into my current school to this book!”
“That one—I find it a bit too ’literary’,” another person expressed a different opinion. “But it’s very good to read regardless. Personally, I prefer Dragon Oracle; that’s a classic work that started a legendary trend!”
“Yeah, after that, a large number of novels imitating Dragon Oracle appeared online. Unfortunately, they could only imitate the surface; no one could write that magnificent and grand sense of mythic epic.” Other readers chimed in.
“For example, recently Sa’en’s Legend of the Qilin is…”
“Why mention such a villain when things are going well?”
Everyone showed looks of disgust; clearly, they had all “eaten the melon” about the author and the website terminating the contract.
At this point, Jing Xinglan finally spoke: “Actually, my favorite work is Great Physician of the Common People.”
As Jing Hua Shui Yue’s breakout work, there were many present who also liked this work. As soon as he finished speaking, a female reader with shining eyes immediately took a book out of her bag: “I like it too! Back then, I even asked someone to help me buy a signed copy by the author; it cost quite a bit of money!”
As everyone knew, Jing Hua Shui Yue didn’t like appearing in public, basically didn’t hold book signings, and wouldn’t cooperate with publishers for promotional activities just for book sales.
Therefore, his signed books were basically things that could be wished for but not sought.
Jing Xinglan’s gaze instantly became sharp.
He watched the girl proudly open the cover amidst the envious gazes of everyone to show them the author’s signature. His jet-black eyes were almost glued to the few flourishing characters of “Jing Hua Shui Yue.”
Although it wasn’t that he didn’t have signed books… but for Great Physician of the Common People, Jing Xinglan really didn’t have one.
He had asked people online at high prices for a long time but couldn’t find a seller. As a result, within a few days, he had seen two—one at Qiao Jing’s house and one in the hands of this seemingly ordinary girl. How could Jing Xinglan’s heart feel balanced?
Damn it, and he had already bought the author’s rights!
Jing Xinglan barely maintained his smile and asked politely: “Could I borrow this book to take a look?”
The girl handed it to him readily: “Of course, but be careful not to spill tea on it.”
Upon receiving the book, Jing Xinglan immediately touched the spine, the paper, and the signed part very carefully. His movements were cautious and his expression solemn.
He didn’t know if it was an illusion… he always felt that this signed book was even more exquisite than the hardcover edition he had bought?
If Qiao Jing knew what he was thinking, he would definitely give an expressionless “Heh.”
Nonsense.
Back then, those books were sent uniformly by the publisher; Qiao Jing had just randomly picked a few to sign. The binding and paper material had absolutely no difference.
But Jing Xinglan just felt they were different.
Full of reluctance, he returned the book to the girl and asked persistently: “Is this book for sale? I can offer double the price.”
The girl, who had originally felt her favorability toward Jing Xinglan increase greatly due to his cautious handling of the book and his handsome looks, instantly became wary. She quickly packed the book back into her backpack and said repeatedly: “Not for sale! No matter how much money, it’s not for sale!”
Jing Xinglan sighed: “Alright then.”
Although it was a pity, he could understand.
If it were him, he definitely wouldn’t sell either.
With a face full of regret, he picked up the teacup and took a sip. He was just about to see what Qiao Jing, not far away, was doing, but when he turned his head, he saw the young man slumped on the table, fists clenched tight, his exposed earlobes already so red they seemed ready to bleed.
Jing Xinglan: …???