Chapter Forty-Eight: What It Means to Be a Book Enthusiast

This day was one worth celebrating for Wen Jiangxi and Qi Huanchang, but for Fan Qiang, it was a day of extreme anger. Right now, he was at home drinking to vent his frustration. Over twenty thousand yuan worth of computers had been given away, and he hadn’t pocketed a single cent. By the end of February, Tian Weidong’s trip to Yangjiang would be unstoppable. If Tian Weidong discovered that he’d hired someone to impersonate him, he could forget about ever working in this business again. He was certain Tian Weidong had the power to blacklist him from the entire industry.

Damn it, Qi Huanchang, Wen Jiangxi—this isn’t over yet. Who wins in the end is still up in the air; I still have a trump card! Fan Qiang downed the liquor in his glass in one gulp.

“Achoo!” Just as he was reading Wen Jiangxi’s latest manuscript, Qi Huanchang sneezed and muttered, “This cursed weather is freezing. Even with the air conditioning on, I can’t get warm.”

Wen Jiangxi kept his eyes on the screen, still writing the next chapters, and chuckled, “What do you mean cold? My cheeks are burning up. Maybe Fan Qiang’s cursing you somewhere.”

Qi Huanchang snickered. “Serves him right, greedy bastard. He brought this on himself. Amitabha!”

There was no need to ask; Wen Jiangxi knew Qi Fatty was reading the “Tianyin Temple” chapter he’d finished two days ago.

That afternoon, the principal came by the classroom for an inspection and saw Wen Jiangxi typing nonstop while Qi Huanchang occasionally turned around in his seat to offer enthusiastic guidance.

With only a week left before the city’s computer competition, the principal had heard from Zhu Wen that a novel was circulating among Class Four of Grade Nine—one written by Wen Jiangxi himself. He was a bit doubtful. He had shielded Wen Jiangxi from classes, bearing some pressure from the other teachers; this was not the time for distractions. But seeing the current scene put his mind at ease.

Zhu Wen, that woman, always stirring up trouble. Sigh, too rigid in her thinking! The principal sighed inwardly and left the computer classroom. Little did he know this time he had wrongly blamed Zhu Wen—for if he returned to the classroom, he would see the programming screens replaced entirely with lines of text from a novel.

After school, Gong Xiang came to the computer room again. Not only did he take the latest chapters, but he also copied the older drafts, preparing to print them.

Even before Wen Jiangxi could ask, he sighed and said, “Tan Yutou’s gotten smart these days. The minute your novel appears, he confiscates it. A lot of classmates haven’t had a chance to read it. They had no choice but to ask me to get another copy. Luckily, everyone chips in for printing costs, or I’d be bankrupt by now.”

Qi Huanchang chimed in, “Xiwen, this can’t go on. If it gets too popular, the principal might investigate personally, and then these good days will be over.

After the city computer competition, there will be a provincial one next semester. If you win first place in the city, you’ll advance to the provincial level. Then you’ll get more time out of regular classes, and if you don’t drag the class down in the final exams, I can easily get you leave from class.

If you win first place in the provincial high school computer competition, you won’t even need to take the high school entrance exam—you’ll go straight into the top class at No. 2 High. The national computer competition is in the first semester of high school. The principal won’t let a student who can bring honor to No. 2 High go to another school. But if your novel distracts other students, that’s another story.”

Qi Fatty, being a teacher at No. 2 High himself, knew all these details well.

Wen Jiangxi grinned and, putting on an air of authority, said, “That’s easy. Gong Xiang, tell all our avid readers: this book is going to be a few million words long. By the time everyone’s in high school, it still won’t be finished. Starting tomorrow, I’ll suspend updates to avoid affecting everyone’s studies. Of course, if people are truly loyal fans, those who show the most progress in their final exams will get more chapters over winter break.”

Gong Xiang’s face fell at once. “I can’t break that news. They’ll tear me to pieces! If it were just the boys, I’d take one for the team, but the girls are even scarier when it comes to books. Besides, I can’t wait to read it myself.”

Wen Jiangxi was surprised, “What? Even the girls are reading it?”

“A lot of girls are into it. Even Zhang Ya has read it, though she’s reserved and rarely competes with others, so she’s read the least. And…” At this, Gong Xiang exaggeratedly pulled out a small notebook listing every classmate’s name and the number of chapters each had read—some more, some less.

Looking at the notebook, Wen Jiangxi nearly fainted. Gong Xiang, oblivious, continued flipping through and said, “Right, there’s only one girl in class who hasn’t read it—the one who likes to play it cool, Ning Yan. The rest are all your fans.”

Qi Huanchang laughed heartily. “Xiwen, you’re almost as popular as Andy Lau now—star power!”

“Enough.” Wen Jiangxi shot a middle finger at Qi Fatty, then cleared his throat and resumed his role as a senior leader. “Comrade Gong Xiang, I am deeply grateful and moved by all you’ve done for my book, but I hope you understand, your future is as a great actor, not just an assistant.”

Looking at Gong Xiang, who had worked so hard for the benefit of his classmates he was nearly haggard, Wen Jiangxi said helplessly, “So I’ve decided—no more updates until winter break. Of course, I’ll find a way to announce this, so don’t worry about being the messenger.”

“Damn, a few days out of sight and you’re already climbing onto the roof and pulling off tiles.” Gong Xiang shook his fist, but Wen Jiangxi just laughed, “Go ahead, hit me. If you do, you’ll be in the same boat as everyone else, with nothing to read. Otherwise, I might even consider letting you read ahead.”

Hearing this, Gong Xiang immediately dropped his fist and grinned. “Aren’t we brothers? How could I hit you? I’ll go print this batch right away, so I don’t let anyone down.” With that, he bolted, afraid Wen Jiangxi would change his mind and take back the new chapters.

Since just now, Qi Fatty had been snickering on the side. Wen Jiangxi shot him a glance and said, “Laugh all you want—there’ll be nothing left for you to read anyway.”

At that, Qi Huanchang immediately stifled his laughter and put on a serious face.

Damn, these two are both born actors, Wen Jiangxi thought with a shake of his head. Ah, the charm of a novel—being a writer isn’t so bad after all.

After working for another hour, Wen Jiangxi finally finished his afternoon writing. Bidding farewell to Qi Huanchang, who was still reading, he headed straight for the teachers’ office building. Sure enough, Tan Yutou’s office was still lit.