The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Chapter 14

[Task Name: Detective Club Murder Case (Completed)]

[Task Reward: 20 Basic Bravery Points + 10 Special Contribution Points (Locking Down the Murderer Before the Police Arrive)]

[Note: Bravery points can be used to draw cards (ordinary). Each draw consumes 5 points; Contribution points can be used to draw cards (special). Each draw consumes 10 points.]

[Start drawing cards?]

Jian Jing decided to draw an ordinary card first. Based on past experience, it was usually a physique enhancement card.

Sure enough, the system seemed to have a weighting - the first card was still a strengthen card.

[Name: Strengthen Card · Endurance (1 Point)]

[Description: Using this card can enhance muscular and cardiovascular endurance, improving muscular strength and cardiopulmonary function]

[Note: Perseverance is important in all aspects]

After using it, the number in the Endurance column of the mission panel changed from "4" to "5".

She didn't immediately use the remaining points, planning to save them up and draw when needed - maybe she could draw a desperately needed card at that time?

It doesn't hurt to be a little superstitious.

On Saturday, Kang Mu Cheng called and told Jian Jing to attend Jin Wu Publishing House's annual celebration that weekend.

"It starts at 6pm. I'll come get you at 5," Kang instructed. "Keep a level head. Sales have been recovering well lately. Don't embarrass yourself."

Jian Jing: "Oh."

The case had exhausted her mentally, making her almost forget that she was still a controversial novelist.

After hanging up, she went online to check the reviews for Demon Doctor.

The biggest and most authoritative book review website in China was called Bookworm Net. Demon Doctor had been online for half a month, and already had over a thousand reviews and over five thousand ratings. Its current score was: 7.4.

By the way, when she "committed suicide", the score was 5.2.

The top hot review for Demon Doctor was:

The overwhelming negative reviews after it went online made me very curious about how bad Jian Jing's writing had become, to provoke such universal condemnation. So I immediately bought and read the book. I have to say, the bad-mouthing between publishing houses nowadays is too much. Marketing is marketing, but intentionally smearing is disgusting. What's the point of specifically picking out Demon Doctor's weaknesses?

Yes, Demon Doctor is not a ingenious mystery focused on tricks and complex crime scenes, and most of the cases don't have elaborate modus operandi or shocking crime scenes. But that's not the point of this book!

The theme of Demon Doctor is good versus evil, though not completely. At first the demon doesn't understand humans, thinking that killers are evil and victims are good, but that's not actually the case. Some killings are evil, while some are love.

...

The commenter rambled on for over a thousand words, with over 1000+ likes.

Word of mouth was slowly recovering.

Although she didn't write this book herself, the two were originally the same person, so feeling recognized made her want to cry.

It was at this moment that she suddenly understood her other self's despair.

A work she had poured countless efforts into, casually misinterpreted by others at a word. She was rejected, mercilessly mocked, as if she had no value whatsoever in this world.

And humans are social creatures - with Jian Jing's parents deceased and kinship severed, and few friends, her connection to the world was, for the most part, through her novels.

Writer Jian Jing was already almost equivalent to Jian Jing the person.

When the former was rejected, the latter died along with her.

Empathizing with these feelings, Jian Jing inevitably felt indignant - Kang Mu Cheng was right, she couldn't let others laugh at her.

She dug through her closet, taking out a custom gown she had never worn, its gray gauze fabric dotted with tiny glittering sequins that reflected tiny fragments of light like stars.

This cool gray wasn't as classical as black and white, but it was beautiful in its own right, though one had to have the air to pull it off.

It was time for an image change.

Jian Jing went out with her phone, relying on memory to find a hair salon she frequented.

Tony welcomed her, smiling, "Miss Jian, you're here again? Are you here to trim up and get a maintenance treatment like usual?"

Jian Jing couldn't help looking towards the salon's huge mirror.

Nowadays, writers had to craft an image to sell books. Kang Mu Cheng had styled her as a young yet gifted teenage writer, so her usual style had always been that of a well-behaved student.

Seeing her like this, parents instinctively felt she was a good student, and her books wouldn't corrupt children, loosening their grip on their wallets and boosting sales.

"No," she told Tony. "I want to dye my hair."

Tony enthusiastically recommended, "How about dyeing it milk tea brown? A very gentle, intellectual color that suits a writer."

"Gray," Jian Jing flipped through a book and pointed to one of the colors. "Hemp ash gray."

Tony: "Oh, okay."

Hemp ash gray was a light cool tone, gentler than gran's gray but cooler than brown hues. To balance out the color, Jian Jing didn't cut her hair short, instead curling her long hair into big waves.

This way, the hairstyle nicely blended sweetness and aloofness. Walking down the street she would definitely turn heads.

Tony praised, "This hairstyle really suits you, your temperament is great."

Jian Jing was also very surprised. She had never dyed this color before, only choosing a bold shade to subvert her image, but the effect was surprisingly good.

There would definitely be many people at the publisher celebration ready to laugh at her, so the new look was likely a good counterattack.

Right on time at 5pm on Saturday, Kang Mu Cheng came to pick her up.

At first sight, he stared at Jian Jing's new hairstyle, looking her up and down for a long time.

"Not good looking?" She took a lock of hair between her fingers.

Kang Mu Cheng knitted his brows. "Why did you suddenly change your hairstyle?"

It wasn't that Jian Jing's new look was ugly. Her fair complexion meant the cool gray dress and hemp ash hair, though cool, did not conceal her natural fair glow, but rather accentuated her snowy smooth complexion.

Like an unsheathed blade.

From head to toe, she was giving off a message: Don't mess with me.

Kang Mu Cheng's feelings were complicated, like a father watching his daughter put on makeup and dress up. Whether she looked good or not, he instantly felt uneasy for some reason.

"You've changed," Kang stated decisively.

For her fortitude to come so quickly, in the blink of an eye, was it because of her recent brush with death making her finally realize worldly judgments were irrelevant to her, or was there another reason?

Jian Jing thought about it, but just said, "Maybe."

The two Jian Jings were two branches in the same road, one sharp-edged and famous but fragile and sensitive, the other talents faded, increasingly ordinary but resilient and mature.

It was hard to say which path was better - perhaps both had their own pros and cons.

Now, they were starting to converge.

"Alright, you're growing up," Kang didn't dig any deeper. "It looks good."

Jian Jing: "?"

"Your hair," he said.

Jian Jing smiled.

"I think so too," she said.

*

As night fell, neon lights came on. The car stopped at the entrance of an old factory.

This used to be a textile mill, experiencing ups and downs before being bought over by a hotel, renovated into a hotel with strong historical and cultural charm. Next to it was the river flowing through the city, with excellent scenery.

Nowadays, it had been completely transformed. The walls were still made of bricks from last century, but after being rejuvenated by the skilled hands of designers, the dilapidation became historic sediment, the mottled exterior was nature's graffiti. Paired with industrial-themed interior design, the style was instantly elevated, becoming a go-to venue for the arts circle to hold all kinds of events.

Profit was profit, but publishing was still about literature and art. Naturally they couldn't choose a luxury hotel. This place was undoubtedly very suitable.

However... "Achoo." The riverside wind was cold, making Jian Jing's nose itch.

Kang glanced at her. "Go in quickly."

His gaze was a little reprimanding.

Without him saying so, Jian Jing quickly went inside.

At the hotel entrance was the publishing house's logo and autograph board, already filled with many names, all recognizable figures in the arts circle, critics, writers, screenwriters, and even directors.

Jian Jing signed her name, ending it with a heart.

"Yo, the boss's little princess is here?" A middle-aged man walked over, expensive suit unable to conceal his beer belly. His meticulously styled hair couldn't hide his receding hairline.

Jian Jing's gaze slid over him. She nodded. "Teacher Wu."

Jin Wu Publishing had a long history, and had collaborated with many famous writers. These writers could be divided into two camps, old traditional writers and young fresh writers.

Wu was one of the old writers. He hadn't published anything new in five years, and his last book was also received very lukewarmly, readers no longer bought it. He had wisely decided to put down his pen, relying on his former fame to host seminars and appear on reading programs, living a very comfortable life.

It was also an "old tradition" for veterans to "look after" newcomers.

From memory, Wu seemed to have a rather poor impression of her, always vaguely condescending, seemingly thinking that her sales were only due to cozying up with Kang Mu Cheng, whom he had biasedly propped up.

"No way, just selling a few books and already disrespecting your seniors like this?" Wu signed his name flamboyantly, his amiable tone full of provocation. He shook his head, muttering to himself, "Young people nowadays..."

"You're really outdated," Jian Jing said casually, playing with the chain on her handbag. "Young people these days believe in letting their skills speak for themselves, not relying on seniority."

Wu Writer was taken aback, then his face turned ashen: "Sharp tongue."

"Why are you in such a hurry to put yourself in their shoes?" Jian Jing retorted.

People were coming and going at the entrance, and two junior editors were busy registering. This was no place for an argument. Considering himself an elder, Wu Writer didn't want to lose face. He gave a cold laugh and walked straight out.

Jian Jing hadn't expected him to back down so quickly. She was puzzled, but then realized why.

Some people, as long as you're not afraid of them, have nothing to be afraid of.