Chapter 2#
008 also had a feature called the Virtual World.
According to it, it had originally downloaded this function to allow the host to get into character faster after receiving a new script.
Before activating this function, 008 kept nagging and reminding him: “This function relies on the host’s mental power, which means it manifests your mental space. If someone with a dull mind and lack of imagination enters, they will only see a wasteland. Someone slightly better might build an oasis. So don’t worry even if there’s nothing at first; this can be practiced slowly—”
Halfway through, 008’s voice stopped abruptly.
A touch of green centered on Qiao Jing’s position, rushing in all directions like a tide.
In just a breath, the world that was originally filled with yellow sand instantly turned into a lush green grassland.
Qiao Jing reached out, his palm gently stroking the luxuriant blades of grass beside him.
Suddenly, he looked up.
The world underwent a dramatic change again.
On the endless grassland, tall buildings rose from the ground.
Countless roads, overpasses, and highways appeared intertwined like a spider web. Birds under the blue sky, a continuous stream of vehicles on the streets, pedestrians in various outfits, the aroma wafting from street stalls, and the bustling noise of the market that seemed to put one right in the scene…
008 watched, dumbfounded and fully convinced.
“No, how did you do it?” It was completely puzzled. “This is a city!”
Qiao Jing didn’t think it was much.
When he wrote, besides the world background and character settings, various environments, smells, images, and details were also things he had to consider.
For him, constructing a realistic world in his mind was as simple as breathing or eating.
“I remember you mentioned you have a fashion modeling function too?” he asked. “What’s that about?”
008 finally managed to digest the shock that “the host it bound might be a big shot,” and its tone of voice unconsciously became more respectful. “This function is mainly to facilitate creating celebrity looks, helping them make a splash on the red carpet. So, there must be a 3D prototype as a model.”
Qiao Jing thought about it and felt a bit embarrassed to use his own face.
It felt a bit too narcissistic.
“Let’s put that aside for now,” he said.
After leaving the virtual world, Qiao Jing calculated the time difference between the two sides and found that the time flow ratio between the real world and the virtual world was actually 1:10.
This meant he could completely finish writing in the virtual world and then bring it back to reality, just needing to input it via voice once.
Gaining ten times the amount of time an ordinary person has was, for a creator, even more of a surprise than five million falling from the sky.
So even though the outline for the new book hadn’t been created yet, Qiao Jing felt he could already start looking for a new platform.
He found some snacks to pad his stomach, turned on the computer, and after browsing various forums for over an hour, entered the URL for “Liuliu Web” in the search bar.
008 had already learned about Qiao Jing’s encounter during this time, but looking at the young man’s normal expression, it felt like the host hadn’t been affected by the termination of his contract at all.
—And in fact, that was the case.
For Qiao Jing, there were very few things worth keeping in his heart.
His life was very simple.
Especially after he had eliminated all troublesome interpersonal relationships, besides writing, reading, and regularly checking the news every day, there was basically nothing worth his attention.
But then again, the name Liuliu Web didn’t sound very serious.
From the perspective of registered capital, it was entirely a micro-enterprise, which couldn’t be compared at all with Xingchen Web, which had tens of millions in a single round of financing.
As soon as he opened their website interface, Qiao Jing was repulsed by the ugliness of the webpage design, which looked like it had traveled from the last century.
So much so that his index finger stayed on the mouse for a long time, not knowing whether he should continue clicking.
Although he had long known this website was poor…
But being so poor that they couldn’t even afford a decent graphic designer was something Qiao Jing hadn’t expected.
He had to silently recite “don’t judge a book by its cover” a few times in his heart before clicking on the “Author’s Notice” section.
After carefully reading the terms, Qiao Jing finally made a decision.
He moved the mouse slightly and clicked the “Apply to become an author of this site” button.
A pop-up appeared on the screen: “Please enter your pen name.”
Qiao Jing placed his hands on the keyboard, stared at the screen for a while, and slowly typed three characters:
“Yan Heqing”
Luckily, a second later, another pop-up appeared:
“Congratulations, registration successful!”
A few days ago happened to be the 80th anniversary of the country. Qiao Jing thought this new pen name would serve as a repository for one of his good wishes.
Since he had decided to change his pen name and start over, the most important thing right now was definitely making an outline.
Unlike those authors who start writing on impulse with a flash of inspiration, Qiao Jing liked to be fully prepared. He enjoyed the process of turning words into a story and even more, the feeling of controlling characters to move step by step according to his plan.
“Song of the Earth.” This novel had actually been brewing in his mind for a long time. Qiao Jing had mentioned a few words about it to his editor, Wang Cheng, before, but as soon as Wang Cheng heard its theme was scientific research, he told him to drop the idea immediately.
“Who would read someone writing academic papers on a novel website?”
Those were Wang Cheng’s original words.
Qiao Jing was not someone easily swayed by others’ words, but considering the time cost required to look up academic materials and distinguish their authenticity, he had regretfully abandoned the idea.
But this time was different.
With 008’s help, Qiao Jing didn’t have to worry about being misled by the mixed bag of information online. He could even easily learn about advanced technologies beyond the current era, with no need to worry about being nitpicked.
—He planned to write a novel that seemed like fantasy to ordinary people but science to those in the know.
Qiao Jing spent a few days completing the outline.
To avoid being disturbed, he turned off his phone and even disconnected the Wi-Fi completely.
By the time he clicked “Save” for the last time, he let out a breath and only then had the leisure to pick up his phone and take a look.
—As expected, the messages had exploded.
Everyone was trying every possible way to send him messages, offering greetings and concern under the guise of caring, but how much of it was sincere… only God knew.
Looking at these dense unread messages and missed calls, Qiao Jing really didn’t understand where they had managed to get his contact information.
As for those asking about his current situation and probing into his future plans, Qiao Jing ignored them all.
After spending half an hour clearing the records, there was only one new message left in the list.
The message was from his high school class monitor.
“Qiao Jing, it’s been so many years since we last saw each other. In a while, everyone is planning to get together in N City for a high school reunion. Are you coming?”
Qiao Jing lived in N City, in the wealthy area with the highest average housing prices.
If it followed the tropes of some web novels, next, he should go to the reunion and slap the faces of those old classmates who thought he wasn’t doing well.
But…
“Not going.” Qiao Jing typed two words directly, without even an explanation.
A few seconds later, the class monitor replied, the helplessness palpable between the lines: “As expected, you’re not coming again. Last time we had a reunion, you and Jing Xinglan didn’t come either. The whole class was there except for you two.”
Jing Xinglan was Qiao Jing’s high school desk mate. He had now become an internationally renowned model and even opened his own film and television company. He had basically stopped participating in runway shows and had become a big boss.
Qiao Jing: “Is he coming this time?”
“He is! He said he’s free!” The person got excited. “So Qiao Jing, have you changed your mind?”
“No.”
“…”
With no other choice, the person could only sigh, chat briefly, and hang up.
008 watched Qiao Jing, who continued coding after putting down his phone: “You’ll have no friends like this.”
Qiao Jing: “I never had any to begin with.”
008 was incredulous: “But humans are social animals. If you don’t have friends, won’t you feel lonely?”
“No,” Qiao Jing said. “I’m busy writing every day. When I’m not writing, I’m busy conceptualizing. I don’t have time to be lonely.”
008: “…”
It began to feel that its host was probably the best synonym for “impervious to reason.”
But it was true.
Although he was seen as unsociable in the eyes of the public, Qiao Jing’s life now was his most ideal way of living.
After registering the pen name, the next thing to do was sign a contract.
Qiao Jing had 008 forge a fake identity for him, opened the back end of Liuliu Web, and found the contact information for the site’s editors.
He sent over a discarded draft he had written in his spare time.
Although it was a discarded draft, Qiao Jing’s level as a great god in the web novel world was, after all, apparent. Anyone with eyes could see that this author’s writing style had something to it.
The editor, whose screen name was “Don’t Pigeon” (Bie Ge), was even more amazed. After reading it, he immediately decided to sign Qiao Jing.
He was currently very short of people!
The company had quotas for them; each editor had to sign no fewer than twenty new authors every week. But most authors online flocked to sign with big websites like Xingchen Web. Where was he supposed to find so many people?
With no other choice, Don’t Pigeon could only squat on various forums and in the comment sections of other websites every day, coaxing and deceiving people to join like he was in a pyramid scheme.
The key was that the levels of these recruited authors were uneven. Many only wrote an opening and then abandoned it, making Don’t Pigeon so angry he changed his avatar and ID, vowing to stew all the “pigeons” (authors who stop writing) in the world.
“I’m planning to post a new story,” Qiao Jing replied. “The outline is already done.”
Don’t Pigeon: “A new story is good! Is it called ‘Song of the Earth’? Let me take a look.”
Don’t Pigeon: “This subject… classifying it under modern urban might not work well. I’ll put it in science fiction for you. The sci-fi channel is a bit cold right now, but there’s great support for newcomers, and a good story can break through! Once you write it well, you’ll be the next great god!”
Don’t Pigeon: “Dear, do you want me to help take a look at the outline?”
Looking at that string of messages, Qiao Jing was a bit overwhelmed.
Because his editor was clearly a grown man, yet he had sets and sets of cute cat emojis and would constantly use terms like “Baby” and “Dear,” asking him three times a day when he would update.
…It seemed Liuliu Web was indeed very short of authors.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” he said.
Don’t Pigeon didn’t mind his coldness. Instead, he sent a cat emoji giving kisses and hugs and encouraged him to update well. Regardless of the results, finishing the book would be a victory.
Because as everyone knows, a new author’s first book is usually used as a sacrifice to the heavens.
“Remember to update daily, don’t abandon it,” he urged, though he didn’t hold much hope.
Qiao Jing replied with “Understood.”
After handling the contract matters, he picked up the health-preserving goji berry and red date tea next to him and took a small sip.
008 was a bit anxious: “Why don’t you just become a celebrity instead? I just looked; for a book to become popular, the timing, place, and people all have to be right. You’re still just a small nobody now. How long will it take before you’re discovered?”
It really didn’t understand where Qiao Jing’s confidence came from. Clearly, he had just started serialization, yet he had credited 10,000 reputation points from it in one go, downloading a full hundred works from the database, totaling nearly several million words!
All of these had to be paid back with interest!
Qiao Jing coded calmly: “Don’t worry, a good story can break through.”
008: “…Break through my foot!”
It was a bit desperate. Without enough reputation points, its mission couldn’t be completed. If the mission wasn’t completed, it would have to return to headquarters. Once back at headquarters, it would be laughed at by other systems…
Wuwuwu, 008 was still counting on the host to help it earn some bonuses!
Now it seemed that, let alone bonuses, it would be lucky not to have money deducted.
On the night the first three chapters of “Song of the Earth” were published, 008 was waiting anxiously.
It refreshed the back end almost every fifteen minutes, constantly checking the comments and click counts of the novel.
However, Qiao Jing, the author himself, was in a peaceful state of mind. He ate and drank as usual, coded when he should, and if he didn’t want to code, he just “pigeoned” and went to sleep—anyway, with the virtual world around, skipping one night didn’t matter.
When he woke up the next day, before Qiao Jing was fully awake, he heard 008’s loud wailing:
“Wuwuwuwu, it’s over! My salary is going to be deducted!”
Overnight, the clicks for the new chapters of “Song of the Earth” were: 37.
Not even reaching fifty.
As an article with a researcher as the protagonist and a synopsis that simply read “The path from a small researcher to a scientific giant,” which seemed to have no highlights or “gold fingers” from beginning to end, it wasn’t surprising at all to have this many clicks.
Oh, right, there was also a reader’s comment:
“Leaving a paw print.”
Aside from that, the comment section was empty, miserable to the extreme.
“Are you really a famous author?” 008 even began to doubt Qiao Jing’s writing level. Could it be that his millions of followers on Weibo were all bought?
“Look at what you’ve written, nobody is reading it at all!”
“It’s only been a few chapters, what can you see?” Qiao Jing said. “Be patient.”
“But…”
“No buts,” Qiao Jing interrupted it.
After clicking refresh, he pointed at the screen and said, “And look, a reader has already written the first long review for me.”