I am not a literary giant

Before Prince Xu's body could no longer hold on, his chaotic month of war finally came to an end.

This month, he focused on his weaknesses and made up for them, taking on the attitude of a challenger and accelerating his literary career.

One month, 60 scripts, totaling 15 words.

As Wang Zixu looked at the neatly arranged documents in his computer folder, a sense of pride welled up within him, as if he had used Qin Shi Huang to smash all the ancient wonders in Civilization VI.

15 words—equivalent to the length of a decent novel. These scripts interpret love from various perspectives of life; the path of libido is contained within them. They are a crystallization of imagination and beauty.

Moreover, even his own works, when re-examined, would move him once again. He felt these works were in no way inferior to those books that had become wildly popular in China in recent years. He was confident that if these scripts were compiled into a book, they would definitely have a chance of being published.

Unfortunately, scripts are just scripts; they are tools for speech therapy, commodities rather than works of art. In the realm of literary circles, they are magnificent and elegant music, the "Guofeng Li Sao" (a classical Chinese poem); in the literary world, they belong to the category of lewd and vulgar songs, devoid of national and literary themes, leaving only vulgarity.

He thought with regret that the libido stimulated by these scripts would fade, the speech therapists who read them would grow old, and these texts would be sealed on his computer disk, perishing in the two hundred years of electronic movement along with all other digital information, thus being lost to history.

All of his inspiration, talent, and imagination ultimately amounted to nothing more than a 20,000 yuan royalties.

However, he did not regret it.

He had inquired about the publishing industry and learned that newcomers without a reputation could only earn a few thousand yuan in royalties, barely enough to make ends meet. Authors his age who had never published anything before had no choice but to self-publish.

From a publisher's perspective, being able to publish a physical book is already a source of pride and honor; why would they want money? A few thousand dollars to make a good connection and establish a friendship is already quite generous.

If your first book becomes an unexpected hit, your royalties won't increase, but you might get a slightly more generous royalty rate for your next book. However, most people's careers fizzle out after their first book. This is because public attention is limited, and even less is allocated to literature. Such a miraculous success only happens once or twice a year, while countless books are published annually.

Prince Xu cast a divination for himself and obtained the Qian hexagram. The hexagram reads: "Hidden dragon, do not act; yang is below." He wanted to continue on this path, but he could only remain dormant, waiting for his opportunity.

……

On payday, Zuo Ziliang arranged to meet Wang Zi at the coffee shop where they had met before, saying he wanted to give him the money in person.

"Every time I meet you, it feels like we're having an affair." In the coffee shop, Zuo Ziliang took a sip of water, and the ring on his finger flashed.

"..."

Wang Zixu was very dissatisfied with his rhetoric. If it were an affair, he would rather the other woman be a well-educated, refined, and charming young lady than a bald man whose business was selling libido.

Zuo Ziliang pulled an envelope from his pocket and slammed it on the table. It was a thick stack of money, still warm from his body. Wang Zixu picked it up like a thief, opened the seal, and peeked inside. It was full of money. He crushed it with his fingers, making a series of "crackling" sounds.

After stuffing the money into his pocket, Wang Zixu said, "Do you know what?"

Zuo Ziliang said, "Hmm?"

"I've thought of many ways to collect royalties before," Wang Zixu said. "But I definitely never thought of this one."

Zuo Ziliang said, "There's something else I want to tell you. I've thought about it for a long time and I think it would be better if you could give a lecture to our speech therapists. They have a lot of misunderstandings about your scripts. Also, hearing the thoughts of frontline speech therapists will be beneficial for your future script writing."

Zuo Ziliang spoke very solemnly, as if afraid that Wang Zixu would not agree. But Wang Zixu didn't think there was anything wrong with it; he didn't mind sharing his understanding of creation with others.

He said, "My concern is that I don't have much time. Writing two scripts every day is quite mentally taxing."

Zuo Ziliang said, "That's easy. One lesson will be equivalent to two scripts, and I'll pay you 800 yuan for each lesson."

Upon hearing that there was money involved, Wang Zixu became interested and said, "Okay, I can give it a try."

Zuo Ziliang laughed and said, "You don't seem to be in the group, do you? I'll send it to you, add it."

"What group?"

"You can talk about it in the chat group later."

Wang Zixu has always had a strange aversion to the concept of "group".

The character "群" (qun, meaning group or swarm) always reminded Prince Xu of cattle and horses. He understood that this was his own fault, not the fault of the person who named him, because if he were more educated, he would have associated the character with mathematics.

Wang Zixu's workplace also had a work group, and the leader required everyone to join, saying it would make it easier to assign work. Wang Zixu joined as well, and thus he too became a workhorse.

Every time the leader speaks in the group chat, no matter what he says, the chat instantly erupts with messages like "received" or "clapping," filling the chat box with a dense row of replies, creating an atmosphere even more enthusiastic than during a live meeting.

The worst part is that the leader also likes to write poetry, and he always posts his old-fashioned, semi-classical poems in the group chat, which always receive unanimous praise from his colleagues.

Wang Zixu was serious about literature and honest with himself, so he could never praise his leader's poems, no matter what.

Unfortunately, his superiors knew he loved literature, and they would always ask for his opinion. Whenever this happened, Wang Zixu would have to say something against his conscience.

Even though it was already a breach of aesthetics for him, his polite words sounded rather jarring compared to the flattery of his colleagues, so he vaguely sensed that his boss was quite dissatisfied with him.

His experience in large group chats left him with a negative impression, so he always refused when colleagues invited him to smaller groups. Over time, he isolated himself.

Wang Zixu's understanding of group chats ended there. So when he joined the group chat that the bald man recommended to him, he was taken aback by the lively atmosphere.

"Welcome, big shot! Group status -1."

"New couple's hot photos!"

"Welcome, welcome! Once you're in the group, we're family!"

The prince was dizzy. He didn't understand what they were saying at all.

He clicked on each of these people's profile pictures, checked their nicknames and signatures, and confirmed that he did not know them. Therefore, he could only interpret this welcoming ceremony as natural hospitality.

So he used the most elegant and refined language he could to write a thank-you note of about 200 words. After he finished writing it, he checked the group chat again and found that no one was talking about him anymore.

Zuo Ziliang, sitting opposite him, said, "Did you join the group? Oh, you did. Why is your username your real name? You're really bold."

Wang Zixu said, "This is my work account. I only add people I know in real life. I used my real name for convenience."

Zuo Ziliang said, "Although your name isn't too common, I suggest you change it."

Prince asked humbly, "What kind of online name would be best?"

Zuo Ziliang said, "Nobody cares, just use something easy to remember. I don't like nicknames. If you really don't know what to use, just look at what other people in the group have."

Wang Zixu scrolled up the chat history and glanced at the nicknames of the other group members—

chicken.

Oleander.

Xiao Han, a pork wholesaler.

Sakura-chan is sunny and cheerful.

……