Speaking of which, the things Zhang Qiren would get up to once he got famous really did seem to bear out that "club hostess" line... only his target hostess was a bit more specific than most people's...
But the fact was, whether she actually worked as a hostess was still nothing but speculation, and it wouldn't do to go on about it — if they guessed wrong, wouldn't that be mortifying?
The two of them said no more, finished the beer in their bottles, and went back to their own rooms to sleep.
It's past midnight... no matter how much is on my mind, I can't just drop dead from it.
This time Chu Ge slept like a rock. By the time he woke it was already high noon; while washing up he saw that Zhang Qiren's door was wide open, and the man himself was sitting tensely at the computer, refreshing the screen over and over.
Chu Ge checked the time — one in the afternoon. Looked like Zhang Qiren's new book had gone on paid release exactly an hour ago. He finished washing up in a few quick motions, then stuck his head in. "How is it? How many in the first hour?"
There was a gleam of excitement on Zhang Qiren's face. "Over four hundred."
First-hour subscriptions over four hundred... by the twenty-four-hour mark it could easily be around two thousand, and after that pushing up to premium — three thousand average subscriptions — wouldn't be hard at all.
A premium work was still a long way from "making it big," but it was already enough to keep a person fed.
Right now Chu Ge's own numbers were only just a bit above premium.
Chu Ge was happy for Zhang Qiren, and a little surprised too. Zhang Qiren's favorites count before release hadn't been high, so things had felt a bit chilly — though not so low that it looked doomed at a glance, which was exactly why he'd let himself hope, and why he was so nervous.
But for a modest favorites count to produce that many first-hour subscriptions meant the subscription-to-favorite ratio was very high. In a web-novel world where pirated copies flew everywhere, that was no small feat — proof that Zhang Qiren's readers were fiercely loyal.
Chu Ge's earlier reassurance — "sure, it looks niche, but the few fans are diehards" — seemed to be coming true.
Honestly, this had beaten Zhang Qiren's own expectations. He was visibly thrilled, face glowing, and grabbed at Chu Ge. "Come on, Brother Chu, I'm treating you to a meal!"
"Wait..." Chu Ge looked at his eyes, speechless. "Your eyes are that red — don't tell me you've been up all night, straight through to now?"
Zhang Qiren waved a hand grandly. "Yours truly is a cultivator. A few days without sleep — what's that?"
Chu Ge was just about to tell him to get some rest when Zhang Qiren's QQ pinged.
Zhang Qiren glanced at the bouncing avatar, and his expression turned solemn. He hurriedly sat back down and clicked it open. "Great Editor, what are your instructions?"
"???" Zhang Qiren said hastily, "I've been wronged, my lord! I just write a xuanhuan level-up dungeon-crawler — where would I get any veiled political commentary?"
"Must be the dungeon design. Someone read something into it and made an issue of it," the editor said. "We'll apply a protective takedown. Take this time to revise it, and we'll put it back up once it's fixed."
Zhang Qiren panicked. "I just went on paid release and now I'm taken down? When it comes back out, who's going to still be reading?"
"It can't be helped." The editor dropped those four words and said no more.
"I—" Zhang Qiren's fingers hovered over the keyboard, and for a long while he didn't type another word.
Chu Ge watched the glow drain from his face; in an instant the withered look of a day and a night without sleep crawled up his cheeks, and he seemed to age right there in his chair.
"Why like this..." Zhang Qiren murmured to himself. "He knew I didn't..."
Chu Ge pressed his lips together, not daring to say the truth.
The truth was that his numbers hadn't reached the level where anyone would fight to protect him. It was just a revision — and it wasn't worth the effort of making trouble.
And yet what to anyone else was "just" that was, to Zhang Qiren, the abrupt end of everything he'd been hoping for.
Chu Ge suddenly thought of Qiu Wuji. To him it had only ever been a story he was weaving; to her it was a life.
"Seeing you do well... there's no shortage of people who can't stand that." Chu Ge finally heaved a sigh. "Your readers are loyal. Fix it fast and you should still have a shot. Don't lose heart..."
Zhang Qiren sat there woodenly staring at the screen, eyes blank, mind somewhere far off.
It was a long time before he spoke, low. "That's just fooling ourselves, Brother Chu. This is a brand-new book — it doesn't have the pull of a year or two of following along, the kind that keeps people hooked. Give it a few days and they'll mostly scatter... Besides, how long would I have to revise before it counts as done... And... and anyway, I don't even know how to fix it."
Chu Ge had nothing to say.
He himself was afraid even of going on hiatus for a single day, let alone a revision with no idea how much would be enough to get through. How long the hiatus would run, how much of the audience would be left — that was pure fantasy, and he couldn't even convince himself.
"I really do love writing... I've always thought that showing people the world in your head is a wonderful thing, and I've fought with my family over it for years..." Zhang Qiren said quietly. "When I flopped before, I knew I was bad, so I studied like mad. Every day I read books and watched every kind of tutorial video — my notes could almost fill a book of their own..."
He paused, sniffed, and went on. "I flopped two books, each with only a few dozen subscriptions, but I never missed a single day. I wrote both of them start to finish while delivering takeout — practice for my writing, and a way to build up good name. After I moved here I've written ten hours a day, staying up past midnight every night. Young as I am, my lumbar and cervical spine are already wrecked. Is my attitude good enough, am I working hard enough, Brother Chu?"
"Yeah," Chu Ge said quietly. "You work harder than I do."
"We grew up hearing that hard work always pays off, right, Brother Chu..." Zhang Qiren's voice choked. "And it's not like I was working in the wrong direction. The results prove this book is good... So... so why is it like this?"
All Chu Ge could do was comfort him. "If this one's good, then you've cracked the code. Hang in there a while longer. Worst case, you start another one — you'll make it eventually."
Zhang Qiren shook his head slightly. "I made a deal with my family. If this one doesn't work, I go home. I've been headstrong for years; that's about enough. They only ever had my interests at heart... Besides, even calling this book's numbers good is a stretch, and luck played a part. Start another, and there's no saying it'd get results either. Book after book — where does it ever end?"
He let out a long breath, then suddenly broke into a brilliant smile. "I've been dreaming for so many years. Time to wake up. Time to live a normal life for a change."
Chu Ge knew the guy's fire had been snuffed out for good. This was what people meant when they said a heart gone cold.
He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing, only watching as Zhang Qiren opened the author dashboard and, before the book could be taken down, posted a standalone note: "Dropped. Sorry, everyone."
"Cutting a book is going eunuch, and a eunuch's been gelded." Zhang Qiren suddenly snorted with laughter at his own words. "My pen name's Bully With Backup — zhàng shì qī rén. Take away the shì, the backup, and what's left sounds like Zhang Qiren, doesn't it?"
Chu Ge couldn't laugh at all.
Zhang Qiren moved out that very afternoon, without even stopping for a meal. Chu Ge had planned to rework his outline today; he didn't revise a single word, just helped haul things up and down all afternoon, until it was dark.
On his way out, Zhang Qiren sighed. "All these years of scrabbling around for nothing, and it wasn't a total loss. Biggest thing I got was a friend like you, Brother Chu. You're a real one. No need to say it — if you ever need a hand, just open your mouth."
Chu Ge patted his shoulder and didn't say much. They'd never discussed what their families did, but Zhang Qiren had delivered takeout before, so his circumstances clearly weren't great — Chu Ge didn't figure he'd be much help. Then again, that wasn't what friendship was about. "Work hard. Grab a drink when you've got time. We'll still shoot the breeze in the group chat; we're in the same city, this isn't some farewell."
"Sure. Hope your book blows up, Brother Chu!" Zhang Qiren hesitated, then said quietly, "That girl across the hall — if you get a chance to talk to her, put in a word or two. Working as a hostess, in the end... ah, forget it. What right do I have to say that?"
And with that he picked up his suitcase and left.
Maybe Zhang Qiren had wanted to wait until he was famous and then go have a talk with that girl. But it never even got started — it just quietly ended there.
Back in the apartment alone, Chu Ge stood by the window and let out a long sigh.
He'd seen too many writers bow out in defeat over the years and thought he was used to it, but when it happened to a friend right there in real life, it still left his chest painfully stuffed.
Especially since the reason for the exit wasn't any failing of Zhang Qiren's, but the petty malice that was everywhere in this world — that made it hurt all the more.
People called this line of work vagrancy, and at least one part of that was right: it was far too unstable.
He looked around. The two-bedroom he'd once thought too small now seemed so empty and chilly. When Zhang Qiren was here, they'd hardly talked, and it had felt like nothing changed whether he was around or not — but the moment the man was gone, a boundless loneliness began to spread.
From now on there really won't be a single person left I can talk to.
Should I look for a new roommate... But that sort of thing came down to fate. Not every roommate clicked with you the way Zhang Qiren had, and with bad luck it was more trouble than it was worth.
He was just thinking this when something cool touched his neck — a long sword laid across the side of his throat — and Qiu Wuji's voice drifted over, flat and light: "Writing that line — was that a death wish?"
Chu Ge didn't turn around. He stood quietly for a moment, let out a breath, and suddenly smiled. "Thank you... you came at just the right time."
Qiu Wuji: "?"