Zhao Youyue had finally dealt with something that had been weighing on her for days. As she walked, she felt a physical lightness in her step, the lingering anxiety over the self-criticism finally beginning to dissipate. The only question left was whether that classmate, Han Leng, would actually satisfy her with the quality of his work.
Based on her impression, Han Leng's writing was genuinely good. He wasn't the type who just piled empty, flowery words together to hit a character count. He probably read quite a lot of diverse literature, and his thinking had a certain level of depth that was easily above the average high school student.
Then again, she reconsidered. A self-criticism didn't really need literary flair or deep philosophical musings. What it needed was a sincere, humble attitude of admitting fault. She was worried Han Leng might try to show off his writing skills and end up producing a piece so sharp or arrogant that it made their homeroom teacher, Lao Qiu, pull a dark face after reading it.
Either way, Zhao Youyue trusted Han Leng fairly well. Back in middle school, he had been famous throughout the grade for his ability to weave a story. He had even written a long novel of several hundred thousand words based on a certain online game he played. Quite a few classmates were his devoted readers and urged him to update every day with the fervor of true fans. Her deskmate at the time seemed to be one of those update chasers, which was why she had a rather deep impression of his reputation.
He was indeed smart. Despite spending so much of his free time writing, his grades weren't bad, though they were notoriously unstable. Sometimes he ranked in the top three of the entire class, and other times he dropped beyond thirtieth place without warning. He was actually more erratic than Zhao Youyue, who stayed steadily and safely in the middle.
She hadn't expected that someone who looked so aloof and unapproachable would be such a blatant money lover. From what he said, he was even serializing a web novel on Qidian. If he really earned fifty yuan per thousand characters, that's already quite impressive for a student.
The student sitting in front of Zhao Youyue, Wang Yang, was a veteran web novel reader who always had his nose in a digital story during lunch. He even seemed to be a member of the fan group called the Green Alliance for a platinum author known as Green Apple. That author wrote historical fiction with such detail that he was a legend in the community.
Even if he wasn't number one in Qidian's history channel, he was at least among the top tier. Anyone with a fan organization boasting a loud name like the Green Alliance was definitely not simple. On top of that, the pen name belonged to the vegetable and fruit category, which made it even more telling of his veteran status. Although Zhao Youyue didn't read many web novels herself, she still knew household names like Heavenly Silkworm Potato, I Eat Tomatoes, and Angry Banana.
This world also had Heavenly Silkworm Potato, but he apparently hadn't started writing that terrifyingly famous work, Battle Through the Heavens, yet. Maybe Zhao Youyue would even get a chance to stir something up inside that world someday if it appeared in the Dimension Gate.
Members of the Green Alliance even used unified green background QQ avatars to identify one another. In short, they were highly disciplined. Once the Green Alliance showed up in a forum, the comment section would inevitably turn into a sea of green.
So, as a member of the Green Alliance, Wang Yang was very familiar with the internal gossip of the web novel circle. He was nothing like ordinary people who didn't even understand what it meant for a work to have several thousand average subscriptions.
If Han Leng was really earning fifty yuan per thousand characters purely from electronic subscriptions, then he could already be considered a quality author on Qidian. That meant his average subscriptions were likely around three thousand. He was even a bit stronger than that author who wrote Super King of Psychic Powers, I'm the Strongest. However, his total monthly income was still lower because Han Leng was in high school and simply didn't have the time to update frequently.
He was probably one of those hated "single update" authors who only posted once a day. One update of two thousand characters earned him one hundred yuan. Now, writing a three thousand character self-criticism for Zhao Youyue earned him five hundred yuan. Of course he felt this deal was extremely profitable, which was why he had agreed so decisively the moment she mentioned the price.
Zhao Youyue was now a little curious about the novel Han Leng was writing. Who knew? Maybe she would even get a chance to stir things up in her old classmate's story. After all, the Dimension Gate was completely random in its selections.
That might be quite interesting to witness from the inside.
Before the activity class ended, Zhao Youyue left the school grounds early. In her view, some classmates went back to the dorms to shower or play on their phones anyway, so leaving didn't feel like a crime. Going straight home was perfectly reasonable to her. Wasn't her home basically just a more comfortable dorm? She called Uncle Liu and asked him to come pick her up at the side gate.
Of course, the school guard, Grandpa Qin, couldn't just let a student leave before the final class of the afternoon officially ended. However, Zhao Youyue's driver, Liu Zhongcheng, directly slipped Grandpa Qin a pack of Soft Zhonghua cigarettes. Seeing the luxury sedan idling outside the gate, Grandpa Qin turned a blind eye to the regulations and let them pass.
"Thank you, Grandpa Guard," Zhao Youyue said politely as the car door opened. Her smile was sweet, and her voice was as clear as a bell. Grandpa Qin couldn't help but look at this young lady with new eyes. He had been a guard for many years and had seen plenty of students from wealthy families. Most of them never spared others a glance, acting as if the staff were invisible. This young lady, however, had no arrogance at all and was very easygoing.
Zhao Youyue successfully left school early. Once she was settled in the back of the car, she happily sipped her favorite red bean milk tea, the sweet pearls chewy and satisfying. She didn't forget to thank Uncle Liu again for the ride.
She never did these things deliberately to gain favor. It was simply natural for her, a habit of politeness without any affectation. That often made people feel she had a good personality and was quite likable. Who wouldn't want to be treated with respect? On top of that, Zhao Youyue was a young lady from a prestigious family, which made her lack of pretension even rarer.
After Zhao Youyue left school, Han Leng had already returned to his dorm. He sat on the edge of his bunk, the springs creaking slightly, and started typing on his phone. He was long used to the rapid tapping on a touchscreen. It was far faster than handwriting for him now.
He had always held one core belief. When judging the value of words, aside from whether they could enlighten readers and give them insight into life, the most important thing was whether they could make him money. The more money words could earn him, the more seriously he would treat the task.
Of course, the moments when he treated words with the greatest reverence were when he used his hand to write in his own private notebook. He filled those pages with diaries, essays, prose, and poetry. After all, life wasn't only about scraping by to survive. It was also about poetry and distant horizons.
During his edgy youth phase, he had once wanted to become a wandering poet and search for the true meaning of life, swearing never to sell his words for a mere pittance. After running away from home and going hungry for a whole day, he realized that money was really great for keeping the stomach full.
Whoever paid him, he would write whatever they wanted to read.
Web novels were popular now? Then he would write them.
His writing was excellent, yet editors still wouldn't sign him at first. Were the Qidian editors eating dirt? He had even won first prize in the New Concept Essay Competition, a feat most writers dreamed of.
What? The opening had to follow the "golden first three chapters" formula to hook readers? The later plot absolutely couldn't mistreat the protagonist? No cuckolding plots were allowed or it would be considered poison by the fans? Transformation stories had to clearly state the character's sexual orientation or they would definitely flop?
Fine, fine. He would do it all as long as the readers liked it and the subscriptions kept rolling in.
That was how Han Leng gradually made a bit of a name for himself on Qidian and gained a group of fairly loyal fans. Still, he felt that his artistic integrity and style were completely gone. All he could do in public was keep a straight face and furrow his brows, pretending to be a cold, artsy youth to hide his mercenary nature. He even regretted letting it slip that he wrote web novels, hoping Zhao Youyue wouldn't take it to heart or tell anyone.
But he figured that his image in front of Zhao Youyue was already completely ruined. Even so, this trade wasn't a loss. Just like when he played League of Legends, he would always comfort his teammates after a disastrous play. Even if the team fight was lost, he would tell them this wave wasn't a loss. There was no big problem. Then the base exploded.
Teammate 1: "I have one sentence of mmp I don't know whether I should say."
Teammate 2: "Before I die, I want to see you lose one wave."
Teammate 3: "?"
Teammate 4: "..."