Chapter 22#
“Actually over a million already…”
Because the daily increase in reputation points was too much, 008, who had become numb to the point of feeling nothing and hadn’t even noticed the values on the panel for a long time, had a rare moment to take a look today and was shocked nearly off the sofa armrest by the clearly written seven-digit number.
This was too fast!
“Is it? I think it’s okay,” Qiao Jing said flatly. “When it’s finished, there should be another surge. If there are subsequent derivative releases, it might break ten million by then.”
The little black cat raised its head, staring at him with a look as if seeing a monster.
Even though it was 7:00 AM on a workday, the numbers on the panel were still rising rapidly at a dizzying speed. 008 felt that if it were to model based on a normal distribution now, the reputation points in this world would likely end up at a result that would make it hard to breathe.
…Although it was just a system and didn’t really need to breathe anyway.
“There are more and more things to be busy with,” Qiao Jing sat at his computer desk, looking at the enthusiastic comments in the comment section, but his expression was somewhat unconsciously gloomy. “And I feel like I’ve entered a serialization slump period… I really want to start a new story.”
008 said in horror: “Don’t ‘pigeon’ (abandon) it!”
If Song of the Earth were to be abandoned, forget the attitudes of those scholars and the state; the resentment of over a million readers at the bottom of the pit alone would be enough to make its skin crawl!
“Just kidding,” Qiao Jing said dismissively. “Except for the one I ’eunuched’ (unfinished) when I terminated my contract with Xingchen Web, I’ve finished all my others properly.”
But looking at his expression, 008 saw a hint of regret no matter how it looked.
As expected, you really want to just abandon it, don’t you!
The little black cat wanted to cry but had no tears. Although it had Qiao Jing’s verbal assurance, it always felt uneasy. Moreover, it was just a system bound to the host. Even if Qiao Jing really didn’t want to write anymore, it couldn’t do anything, because the reputation points had indeed reached the collection standard of this world…
I have to find myself an ally, it thought silently.
At least someone who could urge Qiao Jing to finish properly and help him continue on the path of writing.
But who to find?
The little black cat’s rolling eyes looked toward the opposite door.
That’s right!
Isn’t there a ready-made fan of Qiao Jing living right there?
Although Jing Xinglan hid it well and almost no one around him knew he was a fanatical fan of Jing Hua Shui Yue, in front of 008, who moved unimpeded on the internet, the man basically had no secrets.
Therefore, 008 was very clear about how much money Jing Xinglan had spent for Qiao Jing, and after Jing Hua Shui Yue terminated his contract with Xingchen Web, with what kind of fated and irresistible trend he had once again fallen vertically into the bottom of Yan Heqing’s pit.
Because he didn’t know how to blow any rainbow farts, Jing Xinglan’s way of urging for updates was always only one thing—
Tipping.
From a hundred to a thousand, from a thousand to ten thousand. For some reason, starting from a few days ago, Jing Xinglan, who originally only symbolically threw a few dozen or a hundred yuan to Yan Heqing, suddenly recharged two hundred thousand yuan on Liuliu Web and threw all this money into Song of the Earth—
By now, he had become the “tycoon reader” ranked second on Yan Heqing’s tipping chart, right after that legendary reader “National Football Team Must Win.”
This is true love!
After learning about this, even 008 couldn’t help but feel a sense of respect for a fan like Jing Xinglan.
“How about going on a trip together after this one is finished?” it proposed.
“Travel?” Qiao Jing frowned. “No. Although this isn’t the peak tourist season, I don’t want to follow a bunch of strangers to a strange place and do some meaningless sightseeing.”
008: “…”
How come I didn’t realize before that Qiao Jing’s tongue was so sharp?
Or are all writers like this?
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to join a tour group,” 008 said. “It’s just changing the place to change the mood. Even if you don’t like going out, you still need to find inspiration, right?”
Qiao Jing couldn’t deny this point.
“We’ll see,” he said vaguely.
After Song of the Earth exploded in popularity, the price for the book’s rights naturally rose as well.
Many companies, like Xinglan Entertainment, that came to inquire about the price retreated upon hearing Liuliu Web’s quote, not daring to mention buying the rights again.
Nonsense, the copyright fee for one book could empty more than half of their company’s assets. What if it flopped after filming!?
Because of this, although many people were envious, Song of the Earth became a “hot potato” that no one dared touch. Except for those super-large film and entertainment giants, small companies simply didn’t have enough funds and resources to touch this project.
“OM Company bought the film rights to Legend of the Qilin?” Jing Xinglan received a call from his secretary as soon as he woke up. “A price of twenty million… it seems this one should be their flagship S+ work for next year or the year after.”
But for this kind of “male-oriented” power-fantasy story, he thought, could OM Company really film it well?
As everyone knows, female-oriented novels are more suitable for selling rights. For male-oriented long epics that often span tens of millions of words, just finishing the filming is good enough, and with the current level of special effects in the domestic film and TV industry, who knows how much criticism it would receive.
“It seems they must have a deal in private. I hope the final result won’t disappoint them. I’ve also read a few chapters of that book; to be honest, the traces of deliberate imitation are a bit heavy.” Jing Xinglan walked to the sink, casually smoothing his hair back, revealing his deep features and firm forehead. Under the bright lights, he looked like a figure on a magazine cover.
Having previously worked in the modeling industry, even though he had retired, the man always paid great attention to body management.
After finishing his grooming, he tied his tie in front of the mirror, put on his suit, carefully arranged his hair again, sprayed a bit of men’s cologne on his cuffs, and then strode out of the door with a confident and steady state—
…and pressed the doorbell to Qiao Jing’s house.
Although he had performed this action many times, for some reason, Jing Xinglan was inexplicably nervous today.
He coughed, shifted through several postures, and the moment the closed door opened, he flashed a perfect, handsome smile at the person, one he had practiced countless times:
“Good morning.”
Qiao Jing looked up at him.
The smile on Jing Xinglan’s face deepened, his charming dark eyes slightly narrowed. But that smile, which could almost make a young girl’s head spin, only made Qiao Jing feel a wave of speechlessness—had this man taken the wrong medicine today?
Smiling with such a radiant face.
“Good morning,” he said flatly, as if he had grown accustomed to Jing Xinglan’s constant harassment, or perhaps he was just numb. “What do you want from me?”
“Won’t you invite me in for a seat?”
Qiao Jing let out a sigh.
“Come in.” He knew that even if he refused, Jing Xinglan wouldn’t give up, so he simply stopped struggling. “There’s only plain water at home.”
“It’s fine,” Jing Xinglan said immediately. “I’ve already had breakfast at home.”
Qiao Jing sat down opposite him. “I didn’t say I was going to invite you for breakfast, either.”
Jing Xinglan pretended not to hear. He looked earnestly at the cool black-haired young man in front of him and said, “Qiao Jing, I really came this time to have a good talk with you again about the rights to Song of the Earth. How exactly does Yan Heqing intend to sell them?”
Hearing this, Qiao Jing finally was willing to look him in the eye.
“How much are you offering?” he asked.
“After going back last time, I thought about it. The first quote of twelve million was indeed a bit low,” Jing Xinglan said, holding up three fingers. “How about this amount?”
Thirty million?
Qiao Jing’s eyes widened slightly. He carefully scrutinized the expression on Jing Xinglan’s face. After confirming the man was serious, he showed a trace of a smile for the first time in front of him.
Although it was very faint, Jing Xinglan saw it—a tiny arc indeed rose at the corners of his lips.
Jing Xinglan’s spirit immediately perked up—
There’s a chance!
“Thirty million for full rights,” Qiao Jing quickly regained his usual calm. He looked into Jing Xinglan’s eyes and said, “A very good price.”
“But I… I think Yan Heqing still won’t sell.”
Jing Xinglan’s expression stiffened.
He lowered his hand, pursed his lips and thought for a while, and couldn’t help but frown and ask: “Why won’t he sell?”
Even by Jing Hua Shui Yue’s former standards, this price was definitely not low.
“You’ll find out soon,” Qiao Jing smiled.
Jing Xinglan returned home with a belly full of doubt.
Just as he closed the door, he heard a rustling sound from the study, as if someone were rummaging through something.
Could it be a thief?
The man’s face darkened, and he walked slowly to the front of the study, only to discover in surprise that the one making the noise was actually a familiar little black cat.
“You are… the cat Qiao Jing keeps?”
008 looked up its small head, let out a vague meow at him, walked over with cat steps, and pulled at Jing Xinglan’s pant leg.
Jing Xinglan then noticed that there seemed to be something in the cat’s mouth.
He crouched down, and 008 took the opportunity to place the ring from its mouth into his palm.
“What is this?”
Jing Xinglan took a look and found it was just a very ordinary silver ring, except that the number “008” was engraved inside the inner band.
“Is it a gift for me?” Having just been rejected, it was impossible to say his mood wasn’t low, but upon receiving the gift, Jing Xinglan still gently stroked the little black cat’s head. “Thank you. Let me take you back.”
Just as he reached out to pick up the cat, 008 nimbly dodged out, jumped onto the balcony connected to the study, leaped lightly onto the outdoor air conditioning unit of Qiao Jing’s house, and in the blink of an eye, slipped into the window and disappeared.
“…The pet really is like its owner.”
Jing Xinglan straightened up and said with a bit of a laugh.
He looked down at the ring, thought about it, and still put it in his pocket.
They say black cats are spiritual; perhaps this wasn’t just an ordinary ring?