The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

As the year-end approached, Kang Mu Cheng was swamped with overtime work. Yet every night, without fail, he would ask her where she'd been and what she'd done that day. It was clear that the strange incident at sea and being hunted by a foreign group had once again challenged his nerves.

Jian Jing, not wanting to agitate him further, answered all his questions dutifully.

Jiang BaiYan, unfortunately, found himself at the other extreme of dieting: social obligations.

As both an actor and a boss, he had to attend numerous social events. The entertainment industry was full of such gatherings, and he couldn't afford to miss them. Without connections, one had no friends, and without friends, navigating the industry became an uphill battle.

Sometimes, when he drank too much, he'd call her to vent.

He'd gossip about how some couple had long been divorced but pretended to be loving spouses for a marriage-themed show.

Or how someone had successfully sold themselves to a big shot.

Or how someone's investment had gone down the drain, leaving them in a dire situation with enemies kicking them while they were down.

...

It was a lot of gossip to digest.

More often than not, he'd fall silent mid-conversation. Jian Jing would glance at the video call to find him sound asleep, with only Pudding's tail wagging adorably in view.

With both of them so busy, who had Jian Jing been hanging out with lately?

The answer was... Wataru Kojima.

She had been following Wataru Kojima's manga, while he was catching up on her novels.

As two mystery writers, they had much to discuss in terms of their craft. They debated new works, helped each other refine plot twists, and even exchanged their creations.

Jian Jing sent him some domestic mystery novels and asked him to buy her some manga that were hard to obtain.

Ahem, the kind of risqué works she could never hope to get from Kang Mu Cheng.

Wataru Kojima, being a straightforward person, sent over a large box.

The day she opened it, Kang Mu Cheng happened to come by with some soup.

The housekeeper had been simmering it for hours, and even with the lid on, the rich aroma wafted through the air, making her stomach growl. She hurried to the kitchen to grab a bowl.

When she came back, she saw Kang Mu Cheng flipping through her manga.

Jian Jing: "..."

Social death.

However, Kang Mu Cheng didn't ask anything. He even deliberately avoided her gaze, putting the manga back as if nothing had happened.

"How's the soup?" he asked.

"It's great," she quickly changed the subject.

Kang Mu Cheng: "Have you finished the book signings?"

"Yes, and my hand is about to fall off," she complained, remembering the pain. "3,000 copies? What were you thinking? Are you trying to kill me?"

Seeing her shake her hand, Kang Mu Cheng's brow furrowed immediately. He took her hand to examine it closely: "Is it your wrist or your joints? Tendinitis? We should make an appointment with a doctor tomorrow."

Jian Jing quickly withdrew her hand: "It's not that bad, really."

Kang Mu Cheng sighed.

"It's mainly because I have to sign for the New Year's release too," she said. "Last time it was almost 10,000 copies. I don't know how many it'll be this time."

"Let's prepare 8,000. We'll stop when they're sold out," Kang Mu Cheng compromised. "It's just one day every two years."

Jian Jing: "Do you think it'd be okay if I just signed my initials?"

Kang Mu Cheng: "J.J?"

Jian Jing: "...Forget I said anything."

After a while, she pushed her luck: "How about 7,000 copies?"

Kang Mu Cheng, who had been about to leave, sat back down: "Afraid your hand will hurt?"

Without waiting for her answer, he said, "Jing Jing, you can't do this. Even though you're famous now and readers will indulge you, whether it's 7,000 or 8,000 copies, I don't want you to be like this."

His tone was gentle, as if afraid of scaring her, but his attitude was very serious. It was like he was polishing a precious antique vase – gentle yet cautious.

"An author can be capricious. When you're creating, write whatever you want. If you don't feel like writing today, then don't. I will never force you to write something you don't like just to meet a deadline. But once the creation is finished, the rest is work. Not doing it well is a matter of ability, and not taking it seriously is a matter of attitude.

"I used to tell you that to write good works, you can't pander to readers. Now, I want to tell you something else. Readers like you because they like your work, not you as a person. They are your equals, not your fans, and not your tools. You need to respect them."

Jian Jing was stunned, utterly embarrassed.

She hadn't really thought that far, but when Kang Mu Cheng put it like that, it seemed terribly serious.

"Um, then let's go with 8,000 copies," she scrambled for a way out. "I was just kidding, really."

Her rare display of awkwardness made Kang Mu Cheng feel guilty. He regretted being so serious – she hadn't meant any harm, just wanting to be a bit spoiled. What was wrong with that?

Any author with a bit of clout had the right to negotiate, let alone her.

Without any special privileges, she wouldn't be a bestselling author.

He had taken it too seriously.

So he quickly tried to make amends: "I didn't mean to criticize you. If your hand hurts, you can sign fewer."

"No, let's stick with 8,000," Jian Jing tried hard to prove she hadn't gotten carried away. "8,000 is fine, even 10,000 would be okay."

Kang Mu Cheng: "Alright then. I think at least 10,000 would be good."

Jian Jing: "..."

Kang Mu Cheng couldn't hold back anymore and chuckled: "Having regrets?"

"I think a total of 10,000 would be more reasonable," she said dejectedly.

"Hmm, a total of 10,000. You've already signed 3,000, so let's make it 7,000 for the New Year's event. If we finish early, I'll take you to a newly opened restaurant for dinner."

As he spoke, Kang Mu Cheng was still concerned about her hand. He held it, examining it closely. Although it wasn't swollen or red, he was still worried: "If it hurts again, go to the hospital. And play fewer video games."

Jian Jing: "I haven't been playing many games lately."

"Been solving cases again?" He asked, unsurprised.

"No..." Jian Jing hesitated, "I haven't come across any cases recently."

"That's good news. It's the New Year, peace and safety are what we want," Kang Mu Cheng said. "If you have nothing else to do, think about what to write for your next work. Readers have been asking about Demon Doctor 4 for a long time."

Jian Jing thought for a moment and said, "That's a good idea. Recent events could be good inspiration. By the way, Demon Doctor 4 will be the last book in the series. Four books for the murder series is just right."

"Will you write seven books for the magic story series in the future?" He joked.

Jian Jing caught on to the reference and laughed, "If there's that much money to be made, I definitely will."

"You will," Kang Mu Cheng's expression softened. "Keep up the good work."

*

It was truly strange. In the past, cases had come one after another, often without a break. But as December flew by, Jian Jing hadn't come across a single one.

Her only act of bravery was punching a man who was beating his girlfriend on the street.

Then she was reported to the police by that guy and ended up at the police station.

The man insisted he had been badly hurt and demanded compensation.

Jian Jing couldn't even be bothered to look up: "Get your facts straight. This doesn't even count as a minor injury, and I was acting in righteous defense of others."

"I'm going to sue you."

"Contact my lawyer."

It took over half an hour to resolve this trivial matter.

Jian Jing left the station feeling irritated. As her car turned the corner, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the rearview mirror. Adjusting it, she confirmed it was indeed someone who had been missing for a while.

Well, not exactly missing. There had been no news of him taking leave, and he still showed up for work every day on time.

But as soon as work ended, he would vanish without a trace.

Lao Gao had thought he was going on dates, but when Jian Jing came to repay a debt, his expression was extremely odd, blurting out: "He went to investigate a case."

If he hadn't said that, Jian Jing wouldn't have suspected anything. But Lao Gao's poor acting skills made her feel something was off: "Aren't you two usually partnered up for cases? If he went, why didn't you go?"

Lao Gao had no choice but to say he had left early for personal reasons.

Jian Jing wasn't too happy at the time. She had been thinking about repaying the debt multiple times but couldn't find the creditor. She decided to forget about it and left.

Thinking about it later, it really didn't add up.

While she was hesitating, Ji Feng had already gotten out of his car and was hurrying into the police station.

Jian Jing glanced at her watch. It was 5:45 PM, just at the end of the workday. There was only one person in the car, which meant it definitely wasn't normal work.

But if it wasn't work, why was he at the police station?

This question was like a mosquito buzzing in her ear at night – invisible and hard to swat, yet irritatingly distracting, piquing her curiosity.

She had nothing else to do anyway.

Jian Jing quickly parked her car and snuck over to his vehicle, peeking inside.

The passenger seat was piled with some materials, with a map of Peace City on top, though it was a 2000 edition that had long been outdated.

Investigating an old case? She pondered, easily connecting it to what he had vaguely mentioned before.

Jian Jing couldn't help but be curious, but she also knew it was a private matter. If Ji Feng didn't want to talk about it, an outsider had no right to pry.

But she was still unhappy. If you don't want to say anything, then don't say anything at all. Why drop one or two hints? What was that about?

She hated people who only told half the story the most.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She gave the tire a hard kick.

Passersby glanced at her.

She swept her eyes over them, not feeling the least bit embarrassed as she walked away.

Five minutes later, Ji Feng came out carrying a stack of materials. As he touched the door handle, he felt something was off. Looking down, he picked up a light gray hair.

"Tsk." He pretended not to see it, casually brushing it away before getting in the car and driving off.

Then, Christmas arrived.

*

For some reason, the Christmas atmosphere had become increasingly strong in recent years. Christmas trees, reindeer, and Santa Claus could be seen everywhere on the streets.

Jian Jing decided to go with the flow and bought a Santa Claus costume.

For Knight.

Then she took it with her to record the awards ceremony for "The Reasoning King."

Originally, the production team had hoped she would fly to the United States, but Jian Jing said she was about to release a new book and didn't have time for the round trip. She hoped they could come to Peace City instead.

After consideration, they agreed. Not only did they rent a huge studio, but they also invited guests.

However, Valeriya had a performance, and Andrei needed to return for training, so neither could make it. Linnaer and Raj, for whatever reason, didn't agree to come either.

Liu Sau-chi and Ran-er Kim both declined to attend, citing busy work schedules. Min-cheol Park was currently missing, with rumors suggesting he had met with misfortune.

Hiroto Ishikawa stated he had a performance that couldn't be rescheduled and politely declined. Wataru Kojima and Kumiko Terauchi were both willing to attend.

Connor Lee was filming in Hollywood, with his current show being a hit, so he couldn't spare time for the trip and regrettably missed it.

Zhang Xue'er, Wu Lie, and Jiang BaiYan, needless to say, wouldn't miss out on the domestic market.

On the day of the recording, the studio was extremely lively.

Jian Jing finally received her one million US dollars.

During the photo shoot, she held Knight in one arm and the check in the other. Dazzling gold confetti scattered all around, like a shower of golden rain, both luxurious and dreamy.

If this wasn't the epitome of a life winner, what was?

It topped the Weibo hot search.

#"The Reasoning King" Awards Ceremony#

#If I Had One Million US Dollars#

#What a Life Winner Looks Like#

#Talented, Beautiful, with a Dog and Money#

A few days later, New Year's Day arrived, and the Golden Crow New Year began.

"Case Files of the Sleepwalking Girl" hit the shelves on the first day, with sales exceeding 300,000 copies.

On the second day, 500,000 copies.

On the third day, 800,000 copies.

On the fifth day, 1 million copies.

Success seemed so simple that it could give people the illusion that being a bestselling author wasn't worth much, that anyone could easily achieve it.

Of course, that's not the case.

In the writing profession, talent is required just to get started. Only with talent do you have the right to work hard, and those with talent who work hard must also add a bit of luck to achieve success.

Jian Jing published "White Cat Detective" at the age of 15, and it had been 7 years since then.

This is what you call well-deserved success.