Early in the morning at the Qidian Chinese Network editorial office, the editors returned to their desks after finishing their morning meeting.
Zhao Naipeng, an intern editor for the fantasy genre, yawned, brewed himself a cup of coffee, and began reviewing the manuscripts in the backend system.
2009 was still the golden age of web literature, and as the industry leader, Qidian Chinese Network was the platform of choice for countless authors.
As one of the biggest categories in web novels, the volume of fantasy submissions was immense—especially now that the college entrance exams had just concluded, and many bored prospective college students were trying their hand at starting a book.
After all, who doesn’t have a dream of becoming a novelist?
The problem, however, was that a high volume of submissions did not equate to high quality.
This was especially true for the fantasy category; it was not a field for beginners to dabble in.
"Hmm, this author’s writing style is decent enough, but the creativity is lacking. Approved."
"This book has a good concept, but the phrasing and prose… 'The big sun'? 'The little flower'? 'Digging in the garden'? What the hell is this? Is this written by a grade-schooler?"
"Did this author wander over from some bizarre website? Damn, my eyes!"
After three hours of reading manuscripts, it was already noon. Zhao Naipeng wasn’t so much panning for gold in the sand as he was panning for shards of glass.
If he encountered anything halfway decent, he would sign it, just to give a newcomer a glimmer of hope and a chance.
"Hey, Zhao, how’s it going? How many have you signed this morning?"
Xia Jue, a veteran editor, stretched his back and looked at the newcomer sitting at the adjacent desk.
Not long ago, a fantasy editor had resigned, and the department had hired three interns for a three-month probation period. The one with the best performance at the end of the three months would be kept on. Zhao Naipeng was one of them.
"Seven or eight, I suppose," Zhao Naipeng said with a smile toward Xia Jue. "But Xia, I feel like fantasy really requires so much innate talent. It’s hard to come across good newcomers."
"You’re telling me? It’s not like everyone can write something like *Battle Through the Heavens*," Xia Jue said enviously. "If only I could sign a hit book like that. I heard that guy’s bonus this year is..."
Xia Jue held up six fingers.
"That kind of blockbuster doesn’t come around often," Zhao Naipeng shook his head. "Xia, you guys go ahead and grab lunch. I’m going to look at a couple more."
"Alright, Zhao. I’m heading to the cafeteria then."
"Sounds good, Xia." Zhao Naipeng waved, applied a drop of eye drops, and went back to reviewing submissions.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, the title of a manuscript caught his eye, and his gaze brightened.
"*Daoist Priest*? This name actually sounds a bit interesting."
Zhao Naipeng clicked into it.
[Li Huowang raised the pestle in his hand, listlessly smashing it down into the mortar, one strike after another...]
Zhao Naipeng scanned through the text, ten lines at a glance.
For an editor, reading ten lines at a time was a basic skill. Otherwise, with so many books, how many could one read in a day? Not to mention the other tasks that needed handling.
But as he read on, Zhao Naipeng’s back straightened.
Something wasn't right!
Zhao Naipeng scrolled back up to the top and read it again, this time line by line.
Half an hour later, when Zhao Naipeng tried to turn the page to the next chapter only to realize there wasn't one, he finally came back to his senses.
Zhao Naipeng stared blankly at the computer screen. He had no idea what kind of mental state the author was in to have written this.
He felt that either the reader or the author was bound to go insane.
The writing was just too damn good—the prose, the imagination, the narrative flow!
This author was nothing short of a genius!
...
Half an hour later...
"Zhao, you still haven't gone to lunch? What's wrong with you? Why is your face so red? Did you stumble upon some smut again?"
Xia Jue had returned from lunch and was looking at Zhao Naipeng with curiosity.
"Xia..." Zhao Naipeng let out a long, deep breath. "I think I’ve found a dark horse!"
...
On the second day after his transmigration, Ye Ge finished helping his mother sell breakfast and, after lunch, returned to his room.
He planned to write another five chapters.
In his previous life, Ye Ge had been a coder, so his typing speed was lightning-fast. Furthermore, he didn't need to think; he was simply transcribing what was already in his mind.
For Ye Ge, writing ten thousand words took only an hour and a half a day.
However, when he opened his author backend, he received an internal notification.
[Your work has met the requirements for signing a contract...]
Ye Ge added the contact information of the staff member responsible for contracts, who accepted the request quickly. The next steps involved filling out personal information, printing the contract, signing it, and mailing it back.
By the time he finished the whole process and dropped off the package, it was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon.
"Yezi, do you have any free time today? Let me buy you dinner."
Just as Ye Ge was about to head back, his phone rang. It was the voice of Wang Jie, the richest kid in their class.
He recalled Yan Cici mentioning that Wang Jie planned to confess his feelings to her at the class reunion next week.
In reality, whether it was in his first life or this one, Wang Jie had never actually confessed to her. Perhaps, due to his own rebirth, some unintentional action of his had flapped the butterfly's wings, changing the course of events?
"Why the sudden invitation for dinner?" Ye Ge asked with a smile.
Ye Ge was actually quite popular in class and got along with most of the guys.
"Well... just come, you’ll see. 'Chidehuan Food Stall.' I’ll be waiting for you," the voice on the other end sounded a bit nervous.
"Is the taxi fare reimbursed?"
"Reimbursed, absolutely!"
"Alright, I'll be there in a bit."
Ye Ge hung up, called Ms. Song to tell her he wouldn't be home for dinner because a classmate was treating him, and then hailed a taxi. "Driver, take me to Chidehuan Food Stall."
"You got it."
As the taxi sped down the road, Ye Ge fell into deep thought.
He still felt that the money was coming in too slowly...
Because novels had a public reading period, there would be no income for the first month and a half. Even after the book was officially published and monetized, the money would trickle in slowly. Even if it became a hit, it would take time.
Not to mention, he had no idea how this novel would be received in this era.
He needed to think of another way to make money.
As he listened to the song "Favor" playing on the car radio, Ye Ge suddenly sat up straight.
"Right! I can copy songs too!"
In this era, when a song became a hit, the mobile ringtone business alone was incredibly lucrative!
But the biggest problem was...
While the songs and melodies in his head were complete, he didn't know how to write sheet music...
Was he supposed to start learning musical notation from scratch?
Learning musical notation would take a lot of time, though it was a problem that could be solved with effort.
The real question was: who would he get to sing them?
He was tone-deaf; he definitely couldn't get on stage himself.
Just as Ye Ge was lost in his thoughts, the taxi pulled up to the entrance of the food stall.
At the same time, at the Qidian Chinese Network editorial office—Fantasy Department.
All the fantasy editors had left for the day.
Only Zhao Naipeng remained, staring intently at his QQ messenger...
Strange?
Why hadn't "Dogs Don't Fall in Love" added him yet?
I am your favorite editor, after all!