No doubt about it, Huang Yifan's advice had worked wonders.
Thanks to Yu Bin's love letter offensive, Li Luozhi didn't have time to bother Huang Yifan anymore.
Even Jiang Weiwei, who used to give Huang Yifan a hard time, seemed like she'd turned over a new leaf and was now coexisting peacefully with him.
Life like this suited Huang Yifan just fine, especially during class, when he could freely read both Chinese and foreign literary classics from this world.
Before he knew it, a week had passed.
"Fanchen, 'Suspense World' has called in the legendary horror writer Zhang Yun ahead of schedule. Our next issue of 'Midnight Talk' will go head-to-head with 'Suspense World'. Our magazine's sales have been slipping lately, too. Do you have your new 'Strange Tales' story ready? If you do, send it over, I'll push it for top-feature placement."
"Not yet, but I've got an idea. I'll send it to you later."
After days of rest, his hands had mostly recovered, and he could write again.
Seeing another message from the 'Midnight Talk' editor, Liangcha, Huang Yifan was ready to start writing.
"Looks like I'll need to pick a really solid one this time."
The previous 'Strange Tales' stories, like 'Biting a Ghost', 'Corpse Mutation', and 'Carrying a Corpse', were honestly just average.
Only 'Ear Dwellerr' carried some deeper meaning.
But even that one buried its theme too deeply. It was still just average writing.
As for this "Zhang Yun", Huang Yifan knew his reputation well. In the industry, he was a true heavyweight, far beyond a has-been like San Yue. Zhang Yun's writing was polished, and he had a massive fanbase. Even though he hadn't serialized anything in magazines for a long time, just announcing his return would be enough to rally his readers.
With a powerhouse like Zhang Yun joining 'Suspense World', the pressure on other horror magazines was enormous.
Still, Huang Yifan didn't think 'Strange Tales' was any worse than Zhang Yun's work. Even the more "average" stories were solid in his eyes.
The problem was, 'Strange Tales' was a collection from hundreds of years ago in his past life. Some of its more subtle entries could easily be overlooked as hidden gems.
Just like the recent stories, which had only earned him 50 yuan per thousand characters in manuscript fees.
Now the question was: which story to write?
'The Enchanting Ghost'?
'Painted Skin'?
No, no. Those were far too iconic. Huang Yifan wouldn't touch those right now, not even if his life depended on it.
But if not those, then what?
It had to be something above average, but not too good either. Huang Yifan sifted through the 'Strange Tales' archive in his mind.
'The Temple Ghost.'
Yes, 'The Temple Ghost', that's the one.
Not a top-tier classic, but definitely better than 'Biting a Ghost'. It also had a touch of philosophical depth like 'Ear Dweller', but in a more accessible way.
Alright. That's the one.
…
'Suspense World.'
"Editor-in-Chief Wei, what proof do you have that my 'Even Ghosts Despair' is trash?"
Following a steep drop in sales for the latest issue, Chief Editor Wei Heming had fallen out with San Yue, the once-prominent horror author he'd signed not long ago.
What a joke. A piece of crap like this, 2,000 yuan per thousand characters, each chapter over 5,000 words, and a 'serialized' one at that? Only a fool would keep running it.
So, just one week into serialization, Wei Heming pulled the plug on San Yue's work.
"San Yue, you've seen the latest sales numbers. As soon as 'Even Ghosts Despair' went live, our sales tanked. If your work isn't the problem, then what is?"
"Editor Wei, you're being completely subjective. Who knows what went wrong at your end? Your sales drop, and you blame the author? Then explain why 'Midnight Talk' numbers surged the moment my story went up."
"I'd say that was a fluke. And besides, your story had nothing to do with their sales increase."
"Ha! Wei Heming, you really are something else. If it wasn't thanks to me, who was it?"
"If you really want me to spell it out, then fine. From where I stand, the reason 'Midnight Talk' saw a spike in sales wasn't because of your work. It was due to another story called 'Strange Tales'. That story went live and was pulled around the same time as yours. We got the wrong impression and thought your work was the reason. But now, we've figured it out. Sorry, but we don't want 'Even Ghosts Despair' anymore."
"'Strange Tales'? Don't insult my intelligence. That thing was obviously written by some elementary schooler, and you expect me to believe it's the reason their sales soared? If it really was, then why haven't you tried poaching its author?"
"Actually, that's a great idea. I'm planning to do just that."
"You, fine! You people think you're so clever. But don't think I'll just roll over. Wei Heming, like it or not, we signed a contract. Even if you've pulled my work, I still have the right to submit my chapters. As for my fee, don't forget to wire it on time. That's in the contract. Don't try to play dirty. Or do you want me to drag 'Suspense World' into court?"
"Court? San Yue, have you lost your mind after ten years out of the horror scene? Since when have writers like you ever won a lawsuit against a magazine? My advice: drop it while you still have some dignity. We made a poor call, fine. As an apology, we're willing to pay you 10.000 yuan in compensation. But if you keep stirring things up, our legal department would be very happy to go all the way. So it's your call: lawsuit or 10k. Think it over. I don't have time for this. Zhang Yun just arrived. I'm going to greet him."
"Oh, and one more thing, San Yue, when you really reach Zhang Yun's level, then come talk to us about terms. If that day comes, even if you raise your rates mid-contract, we won't say a word."
'Click.' The call ended with a tone, leaving San Yue screaming furiously on the other end.
…
"Welcome, Master Zhang, to 'Suspense World'!"
After putting San Yue in his place, Wei Heming and Deputy Editor Zhu Shi greeted the master horror writer Zhang Yun.
Despite his title, Zhang Yun was only in his 30s.
That wasn't unusual.
Horror fiction was a niche and relatively new genre. Most of the big names were young authors.
So, Zhang Yun, being a dominant figure in the scene at just over 30? Totally normal.
"Editor Wei, you're too kind. Master? I'm just a small-time writer."
"Oh, come now. If 'you're a small-time writer, what does that make everyone else? We're paying you 3.500 yuan per thousand words, that's on par with a 6-star author certified by the Writers Association of China!"
"Editor Wei, don't bring up that Writers Association crap. It's just slapping me in the face."
"My bad, my bad."
Wei Heming quickly apologized. Years ago, Zhang Yun had a falling out with the Writers Association, which left him stuck at a 5-star ranking. No matter how famous he got, moving up to 6 stars was basically impossible now.
"It's fine. Editor Wei, I actually came today for two reasons: first, to visit the famed 'Suspense World', and second… to discuss a little adjustment to my manuscript fee."
Zhang Yun looked youthful and radiant, smiling warmly, instantly likable.
But as soon as those words came out, Wei Heming's heart sank. Trouble.
"Master Zhang, surely you're joking. 3.500 per thousand is already a record for horror fiction. Even mainstream magazines don't pay that much. Plus, we've already signed a contract. Isn't this a bit much?"
"You can't look at it that way."
Zhang Yun grinned and shook his head. "When I signed with you, I didn't expect you to bring in San Yue and publish his work ahead of mine. You know as well as I do, I can't stand him. And look what happened. The moment he joined 'Suspense World', your sales dropped by over 30.000. I may be decent at horror fiction, but I'm not a god. You can't expect me to clean up his mess. And let's not forget, the contract says my serialization starts in two weeks. If you think I'm the one lacking professionalism, fine. Let's stick to the letter of the contract. Two weeks from now, we'll talk then."
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