After swimming for a while, Lang Lin climbed ashore and put his clothes back on. His skin and face looked as dark and dull as ever—except for one change.
His eyes now gleamed sharp as a drawn blade.
Once weaker than even ordinary men, his body now held a faint thread of qi coursing through it.
Though only a tiny stream, a stream could one day become an ocean. It would simply take persistence—and time.
"I can't practice the Underwater Breathing Technique again tonight. I'll have to wait until tomorrow."
His frail body was like an old, fragile boat. If he overloaded it, the vessel would splinter and sink.
The solution was to build a sturdier, larger ship.
The same applied to his body: it needed to be strengthened before it could carry greater amounts of qi.
Qi and blood would transform with regular cultivation, but the body itself was the foundation. The stronger the foundation, the taller the pyramid one could build. A weak foundation, however, could only ever hold up a small, stunted structure.
Lang Lin didn't consciously realize the importance of forging a strong base. He simply knew himself well enough not to force things. If he pushed too hard, the results would be disastrous. By coincidence, this restraint would help him lay a stronger foundation than he realized.
The Underwater Breathing Technique never mentioned strengthening the foundation—it only described the method of cultivation.
Walking back through the silent night, his phone's dim light barely revealed the familiar trail. But that was enough.
Soon he reached home. Before entering his room, he glanced around. The little rabbit was gone—probably sleeping elsewhere. Zhang Bao, the big oaf, had already turned off his lights.
"That giant… eat and sleep, nothing else," Lang Lin muttered, shaking his head.
He opened his laptop. The first thing he checked was the e-book site.
To his shock, his novel had already gone live—barely over an hour after submission.
"They work this fast? Didn't they say reviews usually take at least a week, or three days at best?"
Normally, yes. But this case was different. The site already knew the novel was wildly popular online. Why waste time? Approving it instantly would draw massive traffic and sales to their platform.
Businessmen thought in seconds, because even seconds were worth money. The faster it sold, the faster profits grew.
Lang Lin clicked into his dashboard. A graph showed real-time purchases and income, updated transparently so authors could track their earnings. This was one of the reasons Star E-Books dominated the industry.
And the numbers made his jaw tremble.
The sales graph spiked upward. His book had already sold over a hundred copies—in just over an hour!
"This is insane…" His lips quivered.
"I never imagined writing novels could make money like this. If I'd known earlier…" He trailed off, shaking his head. Of course, this wasn't his own work—it belonged to someone else. If he had to rely on his own writing, maybe fewer than ten people would buy.
Still, the math was staggering. At 65 yuan profit per copy, he had already earned 6,500 yuan. That was more than he'd made selling handmade books—and far more than his old monthly wages, which barely reached a few thousand.
His legs went weak as he realized the truth. Never in my life did I think I could earn this much…
"This is without even announcing where to buy it. The sales alone prove how extraordinary this novel really is. Qin Wei wasn't exaggerating at all about Qing Wei's debut work—it really is a masterpiece. I respect him deeply."
Lang Lin silently thanked the woman from another world. Without her, he would still be poor, living on instant noodles. And Qing Wei, too—he owed him gratitude for writing the book that turned him from pauper to rich man.
And this was just one novel. He had an entire library, all guaranteed masterpieces from another dimension. By the time he published them all, he would already be a millionaire.
He opened Weipo to update his followers, pasting the Star E-Books link into his post:
"Hello, dear readers. My novel has just been approved for release as an e-book on the top platform, Star E-Books! Please continue to support me. The next volume should be out in about two months. Don't forget to follow along. – Sword-Cleaving Heaven."
Click. Post sent.
He went to the fridge and grabbed a can of fruit juice. Lang Lin never liked soda, but he had developed a taste for sweet juices back in university, when they helped him relax under study stress. Ever since, he had been hooked.
Back at his desk, he set the juice beside his laptop and watched Weipo for reactions.
His novel was famous now—surely, once he posted the link, the comments would flood in. His account would be ablaze with activity.
That was what he expected.
But minutes passed. Silence.
Not a single comment.
Rubbing his eyes, Lang Lin thought perhaps he was seeing things after training underwater. He refreshed again. Nothing.
"What's going on? Normally they'd be spamming comments by now. Did they… lose interest? Impossible. This is Qing Wei's debut novel—it can't just die down…"
Confused, he closed Weipo and checked the sales dashboard again.
He took a sip of juice—then sprayed it all over his laptop.
"Damn it!" He scrambled for a towel and wiped furiously, terrified his new laptop had shorted.
"Thank god it's fine." He sighed in relief, though the keys were still sticky. Guess I'll have to buy a new one. I really need to be more careful next time.
Then he remembered what he'd seen on screen just before. He glanced back—and froze.
The sales counter was climbing faster and faster. Comments, too, were flooding in on the e-book platform itself.
His eyebrow twitched. "So that's it. After seeing my post, they skipped the comments and rushed to buy instead. Do they think this is a concert ticket or something, afraid it'll sell out?"
Still, he couldn't help but grin. The more it sold, the more money he made. And this was only one novel. Once he released the rest…
He chuckled darkly. "Heh… heh…"