Chapter 5: Dreamland (8)
Lin Nan had been churning out one bestselling novel after another in his study for years.
To be honest, aside from his first hit, Everyone Thinks I’m a Villain NPC Boss, he wasn’t very confident about his other works.
But for some reason, readers seemed to adore his later books even more than the first.
Online, fans were leaving glowing reviews, and the sales for those novels consistently topped the charts, bringing Lin Nan substantial royalties. The subsequent rights revenue had him smiling all the way to the bank.
He’d skimmed through other novels on the market and found them woefully inferior to his own.
Sometimes he wondered if people had collectively forgotten how to write novels, making his work stand out like a flamingo among a flock of pigeons.
Regardless of the situation, he was living a pretty great life—rolling in royalties, blessed with a lovely wife, and an adorably charming daughter. If he were to drop dead right now, he wouldn’t have a care in the world.
He thought his life would just keep cruising along until—BAM!—Shiyuan’s unexpected arrival threw his equilibrium into chaos.
A fifteen-year-old mystery, a girl trapped in a game, and a programmer on the run for years—it felt like a wild vine had rooted itself deep in his mind, asking him to untangle the mess of this chaotic mix.
He was desperate to know the truth.
Unfortunately, the only contact he had, Shiyuan, seemed to have vanished into thin air.
He hesitated to reach out to him; after all, he had a family. If his curiosity endangered them, he’d feel like the worst person ever.
Meanwhile, the online chatter about the Way of Inquiry fugitive faded into oblivion. Every detail about the case disappeared as swiftly as a magician’s rabbit.
It was as if the whole affair had never happened.
Lin Nan began to suspect that someone was pulling strings behind the curtain, trying to bury the truth and make sure the public cut ties with anything related to Way of Inquiry.
The only way to uncover the truth was to find Shiyuan.
Maybe he held the only key to releasing that fog of mystery.
Sadly for now, Lin Nan could only wait for a phone call from Shiyuan.
Six months drifted by, and his mind had been in a constant jumble because of this issue. What he managed to write seemed upside-down, utterly unsatisfactory to him.
Fortunately, he was at a stage of life where he could coast on past achievements—his royalties felt like a comfy safety net, allowing him to kick back and relax.
Yet, as his daughter continued to grow, he was determined to strive for a better life for her. So he didn’t give up.
But perhaps those six months had been a waste.
He contemplated tossing a particularly terrible manuscript into the recycle bin when an editor inquired about his work. On a whim, he decided to send over what he considered a dud, accepting any scathing critique that might come his way.
A day later, he received a call from the editor.
Expecting a polite rejection, Lin Nan was blindsided when the editor praised his “meh” manuscript to the high heavens, saying it would usher in a new golden era of literature.
Lin Nan was bewildered.
Wait a minute—how could this be? Even at his peak, he thought this piece had more plot holes than a block of Swiss cheese, and the writing was so rough it could be classified as abstract art. Yet here it was, being hailed as a masterpiece?
Was his fame inflating the editor’s eye for truth?
He expressed his skepticism, stating the novel wasn’t polished and definitely not ready for publication.
The editor countered, “Oh come on! You’re being modest. Everyone in the office thinks it’s fantastic.”
Lin Nan was wary.
The editor continued, “If you’re still unsure, we could print a small batch to test the waters. If it flops, we’ll pull it back and destroy the evidence.”
With that ultimatum, Lin Nan begrudgingly agreed, preparing for what he anticipated would be a spectacular train wreck.
But to his utter shock, when five hundred readers got their copies, they collectively raved about it! Many stayed up all night reading, flooding major media sites with glowing reviews.
Literary heights? New levels of novels? All of that was being strapped to Lin Nan’s name!
He was utterly dumbfounded.
This novel he banged out in a week—as in, he could do this ten times a year—was a hit?
What kind of crazy world was this?
For the next two weeks, the publisher lined up various publicity stunts and interviews with major networks, which had become the norm.
But now Lin Nan felt a twist of anxiety, fearing someone would call him out as a fraud, declaring his “masterpiece” was about as appealing as stale bread.
Yet, everything breezed by with ease!
In just two weeks, he scored several million in royalties.
He chuckled, sitting in his study, eyeing the computer screen with a smirk.
Well then, time to pull off a big one.
He began typing gibberish—a glorious string of nonsense. Sure, he tossed in some disjointed phrases, but it was more incoherent than a toddler’s rant.
After a week of this delightful chaos, he had churned out nearly a million words of utter drivel, a confusing mess that made his previous “novel” look like high literature.
Without a second thought, he shot it over to the editor.
“Here’s my latest creation,” he declared.
The editor replied with a simple “Received,” then went dark again.
Oh, this poor chap must be flabbergasted, yet too scared to tell him it was trash. He was likely busy huddling with all the higher-ups.
With a chuckle, Lin Nan awaited the rejection email like a cat waiting for a bird to land.
Two months rolled by, and he nearly forgot about it.
During this time, he was more concerned about Shiyuan’s whereabouts. That punk had been ghosting him completely.
Did he bite the dust after getting injured last time?
Unable to bear it any longer, Lin Nan called Shiyuan. Thankfully, he picked up quickly.
“Hello? Didn’t I tell you to stop randomly calling me?”
The fierce tone instantly made Lin Nan realize he had the hot-headed Shiyuan on the line.
“Uh… just checking in. How are you?”
“I’m fine, still alive. You should probably worry about yourself.”
“Me? Why?”
Shiyuan chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say, have you not noticed? Your latest work—what on earth is that garbage? And it’s still selling like hotcakes?”
Lin Nan was stunned. Shiyuan was the first reader to unsparingly call it garbage.
The mysterious young man was becoming more interesting by the minute.
…
PS: Three updates today—just the right amount. By the way, if you’re reading this and have some spare tickets, how about dropping a few for this book? Thanks!
