"Almost finished with the book?" "When will it be done?" "You've already finished writing it?"
His social media buzzed wildly, a string of question marks popping up. Qiangzi's excitement was palpable even through the screen. Yang Yi thought about the plot's progression and tapped the keyboard: "Probably next week."
Qiangzi felt his heart clench. Done next week? What the hell? That fast—neither Hu Boss's side nor his own homepage cover recommendation could be arranged in time!
"Can't you write a bit more?" Qiangzi asked weakly.
"No." The reply was just as concise and crushing.
Qiangzi counted: Yang Yi's novel was roughly between 300,000 and 500,000 words. His head spun, but he still knew what mattered. Organizing his words, he continued: "Then Yang Yi, what's your next book about? Still military fiction?"
That question caught Yang Yi off guard—he hadn't planned his next book yet. But with no plan, he could just come up with one on the spot.
"Maybe still military, I have a rough idea," Yang Yi replied.
For instance, he'd considered *Bright Sword* before. In his past life, Yang Yi had loved it, especially the unexpurgated novel version. He wasn't particularly interested in the army or war, but Li Yunlong's personality was too likable. As a killer with a chivalrous heart, Yang Yi had deeply admired Li Yunlong's fearless courage against enemies, his unwavering loyalty to brothers, and his tender devotion to his lover.
That novel was also around 400,000 to 500,000 words, and its chapter breaks were better than *Soldiers' Sortie*. After all, *Bright Sword* pioneered commercial military fiction, tailored for readers, and was more polished than the TV adaptation in every way.
But it had more issues than *Soldiers' Sortie*. This world's history differed from Yang Yi's past life—the broad strokes were the same, but the details were vastly different. If Yang Yi wanted to "transplant" this novel, he'd first need to study this world's modern and war history, then adapt the story accordingly.
A huge workload!
Still, a challenge made it interesting. Yang Yi felt his literary skills were solid—turning a bestseller from his past life into his own work and driving this world's readers wild would be incredibly satisfying.
Many thoughts raced through Yang Yi's mind, but Qiangzi didn't know he was improvising. Seeing the reply pop up on social media, Qiangzi's heart leaped, and he quickly typed: "Then please, Yang Yi, no matter what, publish your work on our site!"
"?" Yang Yi replied with a confused emoji.
"If you choose to keep publishing on our site, I'll arrange more recommendation spots for you, giving your work great exposure. The company doesn't have its own channels for physical publishing, but I'll help you connect with others. That'll boost your income too!"
If Qiangzi hadn't brought this up, Yang Yi would have continued publishing his new work on Qiyue Chinese Web after finishing. He didn't have time to bother switching platforms.
But Yang Yi wasn't naive. He'd conceded to Chen Yijie earlier because he owed Old Man Hu a favor. Otherwise, Yang Yi wasn't a selfless guy—he wouldn't easily give up his own interests. Why else would he have taken "commissions" when dealing with corrupt officials in the name of justice?
As Qiangzi anxiously tried to pin him down, Yang Yi realized he wasn't just dispensable—he might be a hot commodity.
What was going on? Yang Yi quickly found the answer in his book's comment section. Even this late, people were spamming for him to go to Tiexue Net! And with many editors off work, the deletion of posts had slowed down.
He also glanced at the posts trashing him.
Some were insulting his writing style, calling the story nonsense, the protagonist a loser, or even the author an idiot. Why were there so many trolls in the online fiction world? And they'd cluelessly targeted Yang Yi?
Yang Yi's eyes turned cold, but he filed this away for later. He'd make them "comfortable" one day!
"Is that all? Any better terms?" Yang Yi's reply came after a long pause.
Qiangzi was stunned, unsure how to respond.
But Yang Yi's next sentence made him nearly jump: "Seems like someone's asking me to go to Tiexue Net? How's Tiexue Net?"
"Don't go!"
"Why?"
Qiangzi hesitated before replying: "Because Tiexue Net can't give you a big enough readership."
That was true. Qiyue Chinese Web was the country's largest literary site, with its diverse sections and massive library keeping its reader base at the industry's peak—arguably dominating half the market. Tiexue Net, being too niche, only attracted a small crowd of military enthusiasts and veterans.
But Yang Yi remained silent.
Qiangzi, bad at articulating and unsure what terms to offer, had a flash of inspiration and typed: "Yang Yi, can you share your address? It'd be easier to discuss in person. We can negotiate whatever terms you find suitable!"
After a moment, Yang Yi sent his address and contact info. Qiangzi breathed a sigh of relief—if he could meet Yang Yi in person, he felt there was hope to keep him.
Even if Qiangzi couldn't manage it, Qiyue Chinese Web had experts in negotiation!
Still, maintaining the author relationship was key. Qiangzi took a big gulp of his now-cold coffee, perked up, and prepared to deepen the bond: "Yang Yi, I'm curious—at the beginning, Xu Sanduo falls off the bridge. Does he die?"
But his words seemed to vanish into thin air, just like his earlier private messages, with no reply...
"Yang Yi, you still there?"
"Hello?"
"???"
"..."
Where had Yang Yi gone?
A few minutes earlier, right after sending his address, coincidentally, his phone rang! Yang Yi thought it was the editor calling from his number, picked up without looking, and answered: "Hello?"
His tone was casual, almost indifferent.
"Hey, Yang, what's your deal?" Mo Fei's voice was icy and sharp. This Scorpio ice queen seemed to have slipped into her terrifying suspicion mode again.
Why was he so dismissive answering her call?
Yesterday, he hadn't sounded like this!
She called to check on him... and his daughter, and he was giving her attitude?
The fire spread instantly.
Yang Yi was baffled by Mo Fei's aggressive tone. What was going on? Had she swallowed gunpowder?
But Yang Yi had improved. After reading some parenting books, he'd learned a precious skill!