Qidian Chinese Network, Fantasy Editorial Department.
Zhao Naipeng clocked in and took his seat. He noticed that many people were glancing at him throughout the morning, especially his two fellow interns, who wore expressions of smug amusement that they couldn't quite hide.
A man dressed in a plaid summer T-shirt and board shorts walked over and stood beside Zhao Naipeng’s desk.
"Senior Xia?" Zhao Naipeng stood up.
Xia Jue nodded. "Xiao Zhao, I heard you gave a major front-page promotion to a book by a new author?"
"That’s right, Senior Xia," Zhao Naipeng confirmed.
"Oh, you’ve made a mistake." Xia Jue sighed and lowered his voice. "There are three of you interns competing for one permanent position, and the decision rests on the performance you’ve cultivated over these three months. A major front-page spot can catapult a book into the 'boutique' tier, or even turn a standard boutique book into a bestseller with tens of thousands of subscriptions! While your performance isn't exactly stellar right now, the gap between you three isn't large. This single promotion is enough to decide who stays and who goes. Why on earth would you waste it on a new book with only thirty or forty thousand words?"
In truth, Xia Jue thought highly of the young man. Zhao had an eye for talent; he didn’t just chase mainstream trends, he liked to unearth fresh, creative newcomers. But betting on untested talent was incredibly risky. That was the sort of thing you could afford to do after you were officially hired, but right now, performance numbers were everything. Xia Jue wanted the kid to stay, but this move felt like a gamble—it was far too reckless.
"Senior Xia, I..."
"Xiao Zhao, come to my office in a moment. I have something to discuss with you."
Just as Zhao Naipeng was about to explain himself, the editor-in-chief of the Fantasy Department, Chen Lü, called out from nearby.
"Understood, Editor-in-Chief," Zhao Naipeng replied quickly.
"Xiao Zhao, the boss is calling you, and it’s definitely about that promotion," Xia Jue whispered, patting his shoulder. "Just tell him you were impulsive because you found a book that suited your tastes. *Daoist Priest* doesn't hit the front page until tomorrow; there’s still time to swap it out. Go on, go."
"..."
Zhao Naipeng wanted to argue, but he knew he had to face the editor-in-chief first.
"Editor-in-Chief." Zhao Naipeng walked into the office.
"Come, sit, have some water." Chen Lü poured him a glass.
"Thank you. Is there something you needed to speak to me about?"
"I won't beat around the bush. Someone from Operations mentioned that you’re putting a book on tomorrow's major front-page slot?"
"Yes, Editor-in-Chief."
"Naipeng, I took a look at the book you submitted. It’s certainly good, but giving it a major front-page promotion right out of the gate? Isn't that a bit extreme? I understand the excitement of finding a hidden gem, but you have to be patient. True gold will always shine eventually. Besides, that book is a bit… unconventional. You’re still an intern; you should be playing it safe."
Chen Lü’s advice was well-intentioned.
Zhao Naipeng explained, "Editor-in-Chief, it’s different. A book this good—every ten thousand words is a treasure. I checked the author's registration info; he’s a high school graduate. Most graduates like that write on a whim, and if they don't see immediate results, they quit. By giving him this promotion, if the book performs well, he might actually stick with it! Furthermore, ever since *Battle Through the Heavens* was published half a year ago, the 'playing the pig to eat the tiger' trope has dominated the Fantasy channel. *Daoist Priest*, however, leans toward Chinese horror; it’s not traditional cultivation, so it’s at a disadvantage in this channel. Bringing it out of the Fantasy channel to let the entire site's readership see it—that feels like the right move. As for my internship… I admit it’s a gamble, but my performance was already at the bottom. If I lose this bet, I won't have any regrets."
...
"Son, stop sleeping! Get up, the scores are out!"
At 1:30 PM, Ye Ge, who had just finished his nap, felt his mother strike him firmly on the backside with her slipper.
*Smack.* It was a crisp sound.
Ye Ge rubbed his rear, smacked his lips, and muttered, still half-asleep, "Mom, don't rush. The site is going to be packed. We won't be able to get in."
"You get up right now, hurry!"
*Smack, smack, smack!*
The slipper landed a few more times. Though the sound was loud, it didn't actually hurt. With no other choice, Ye Ge got up, turned on the bulky computer, logged into the official website, and entered his registration number and password.
He clicked search.
Nothing.
He clicked again. [Page busy, please try again later.]
Ye Ge refreshed the page, but the whole site crashed. After a relentless struggle, he finally squeezed through.
[Chinese: 125...]
[Math: ...]
[Total: 653]
Looking at the number, Ye Ge felt no particular stirrings in his heart, save for the realization that his previous estimation had been spot on.
"653! That’s amazing! Our ancestors are watching over us!"
His mother was already hugging his head, mussing his hair like she was kneading a ball of dough. "Son, you’re incredible! Come on, Mom is taking you out to eat today. We’re going to celebrate properly!"
Ye Ge’s hair was already a bird’s nest. Seeing his mother so happy, even though this was his third life checking these same scores, he couldn't help but smile. "No need to go out, Mom. Just buy some good ingredients, and we’ll cook at home tonight."
"Alright then! I’ll call some friends over for dinner. You keep busy."
As Ms. Song walked out, Ye Ge heard her voice booming from the living room:
"Hey, sister! How did your daughter do on the college entrance exam? 533? That’s not bad! My son? Oh, he’s doing alright, he got a 653."
"Uncle, Ye Ge’s scores are in. You’re a real intellectual—would you say 653 is a high score?"
No matter how many times he heard his mother show off, Ye Ge couldn't help but admire her level of expertise at it.
"Boundless horizons are what I love..."
Just as Ye Ge was about to head back for another half-hour of sleep, his phone rang. He answered, and a sweet, melodic voice—clear as a silver bell and crisp as an oriole—drifted through the summer heat like a cool mountain spring:
"Senior, how were the results?" Su Yue asked with a triumphant, playful lilt. "My sister got a 650! Even better than her estimate!"
"Sigh..." Ye Ge let out a long breath.
That sigh made Su Yue’s heart skip a beat. Could it be… did Senior not do well? Just as she was panicking, trying to figure out how to comfort him, she heard Ye Ge say:
"I only scored three points higher than your sister. What a pity."