"Sanyue, congratulations, congratulations! As soon as your 'Even Ghosts Despair' was published, the sales of 'Midnight Talk' skyrocketed by 6.000 copies."
After the editorial meeting at 'Midnight Talk', editor Lin Hao sent a message to Sanyue.
"I told you, even though I haven't written anything supernatural in ten years, I've still got the skills. So? My manuscript's pretty good, right?"
"Impressive, impressive!"
Lin Hao typed on the keyboard, sending congratulations, but inwardly, he looked down on him.
Impressive, my ass.
That 'Even Ghosts Despair' was a pile of garbage. If it weren't for your old reputation, I wouldn't have bothered inviting you to submit to 'Midnight Talk'.
To be honest, when Lin Hao first saw the sales spike, he was surprised too. He didn't think it was due to Sanyue's strength. Deep down, he actually agreed with what Dong Xiaoyu had said, that this was just 'Midnight Talk' rebounding from rock bottom. After all, 'Midnight Talk' was once an established supernatural magazine with a loyal fanbase. The numbers had been dropping and dropping, but eventually, it had to hit bottom and bounce back.
Turns out this guy just got lucky. Still, thinking it was one thing, what he said out loud was another. As Sanyue's editor, he had to do everything he could to secure maximum benefits for himself.
"Oh, right, Lin Hao, since sales have surged, what about my manuscript fee?"
"Don't worry, I've already suggested it to the editor-in-chief. But you know, the magazine isn't going to raise your rate just based on one sudden sales spike. The editor-in-chief wants to observe a few more issues. If 'Midnight Talk' continues to grow steadily, then raising your rate to 1000 yuan per 1000 characters shouldn't be a problem."
At this point, Lin Hao paused. "But Sanyue, when the time comes for the fee increase, don't forget our agreement."
"Of course."
"In that case, let's leave it here for now. I'll bring it up to the editor-in-chief again in a few days."
"No problem."
The conversation ended.
On the other end of Lin Hao's computer, a middle-aged man with a cigarette in his mouth suddenly cursed out loud.
"That bastard. I'm over here busting my ass writing novels, and he does nothing but still wants a cut of my manuscript fee."
"One day, I'll kick him to the curb."
"But not yet. I've been out of the supernatural circle for ten years. Still need this guy to help me get back on my feet. I'll wait a bit longer."
The middle-aged man stubbed out his cigarette and casually picked up a magazine from the table.
The magazine was called 'Suspense World', and the cover featured a man dressed in lavish clothes.
Supernatural master, Zhang Yun.
To promote Zhang Yun, 'Suspense World' had clearly gone all-in, spending big on marketing. Even though Zhang Yun hadn't started serializing his novel yet, the magazine had already launched advertisements everywhere.
But the middle-aged man only glanced at it before ripping off the cover of 'Suspense World' and stomping on it a few times, roaring, "Zhang Yun, I've been gone from the supernatural world for ten years, but now I'm back. I'll show you who the real king of the supernatural is."
...
"390 points."
Staring at the total score of 390, Zhang Huiping was completely stunned.
390 points.
This was the lowest score she had ever received in her three years of middle school.
It also meant she had absolutely no hope of getting into either No. 1 High School or No. 2 High School.
Zhang Huiping clenched her fingers tightly. She wanted to scream, but was afraid her voice would scare her classmates.
But the score in front of her made her want to crawl into a hole.
There was a time when Zhang Huiping was the pride of her teachers. But for some reason, once she entered her third year, her grades took a steep dive. At first, it was manageable, from 600-plus to over 500. Still within reach. But soon, she dropped from the 500s to the 400s.
Even though the 400s were already risky, with hard work, there was still a shot at high school. But Zhang Huiping never imagined that in this end-of-month exam, she would score only 390.
That score shattered the last line of defense in her heart.
No, this isn't my real level.
It's not.
It's not.
Almost possessed, Zhang Huiping started going over her test mistakes again and again.
Chinese, math, English, physics, chemistry, politics...
One question after another, over and over.
But Zhang Huiping realized that even after the exam, there were many questions she still couldn't solve at all.
Even though some of them looked familiar, as if she'd done them before.
A tear slid silently down her cheek and dropped onto the thick stack of papers.
...
"Total score: 300."
Over the next few days of class, all the subject papers for the monthly exam were returned.
Out of a total of 750, Huang Yifan scored 300.
He wasn't happy with the result.
Not because he scored too low, but because he scored too high.
He had originally tried to aim for 250. But when the papers came back, something unexpected happened. Most subjects were fine; he scored what he expected.
The problem was Chinese, damn it! He got a perfect score on the composition: 60 points.
That was completely unexpected.
60 points.
In all his years, Huang Yifan had never gotten a 60 in composition.
And he wasn't even trying that hard when he wrote it.
How did that happen? A casually written essay got a perfect score?
Damn, how was he supposed to keep a low profile now?
Frustrated, Huang Yifan was still trying to figure out how to respond when classmates asked about it.
But just then, he noticed something off with his deskmate, Zhang Huiping.
"Zhang Huiping."
Seeing her suddenly cry made Huang Yifan feel bad.
This girl used to get decent grades, but for some reason, she had been slipping more and more lately.
There were rumors that her mother once came to school, saying she was taking Zhang Huiping home and pulling her out of school. The reason was simple: with no chance of getting into high school, what was the point of studying? Her family wasn't well-off, and her mother wasn't the type to think long-term. When her daughter's grades dropped, she wanted to take her to work out of town.
In the end, their homeroom teacher, Lin Jinfen, managed to talk her out of it, allowing Zhang Huiping to stay.
But ever since then, Zhang Huiping had been staying late after evening self-study, poring over her books alone in the classroom.
Yet fate was cruel. Despite all her hard work, this time she still bombed.
Thinking about it made Huang Yifan sigh deeply.
Such a good girl, and school had pushed her to this point.
Heart aching, he decided to help her.
"Haha, Zhang Huiping, you couldn't solve this problem? I actually got it right. Let me show you, it should be done like this..."
Though he wanted to help her, Huang Yifan didn't want to come off like some kind of genius. And to protect the last shred of her pride, he adopted a goofy tone and exaggerated expressions as he explained the problems.
Zhang Huiping was startled when he suddenly snatched her paper, but seeing him explain the questions, she listened seriously.
Maybe it was Huang Yifan's lively way of explaining.
Maybe it was his unusual presence that made her feel more at ease.
Or maybe Zhang Huiping already had a solid foundation.
Either way, after Huang Yifan casually went over it, she suddenly understood all the problems she couldn't solve earlier.
"Huang Yifan, when did you get so good?"
Under his guidance, Zhang Huiping regained a bit of confidence, and her mood wasn't as bad as before.
Turns out, she wasn't as hopeless as she thought.
Turns out, she still had potential.
But now that she was starting to feel better, Huang Yifan became even harder to read.
"It's not that I'm good. It's like the saying goes, 'In a group of three, one can be my teacher.' I may not be great at studying, but the questions you couldn't solve just happen to be the ones I can."
"That simple?"
"That simple!"
"You're lying to me again."
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