For every low-tier webnovel writer, twelve o’clock at night is like the Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads.
If they don’t update that day, they lose their attendance streak.
This affects the website’s promotion of the novel, as well as the 500 yuan attendance bonus at the end of the month.
Almost every author has experienced becoming a “webnovel pianist” at eleven o’clock, rushing to post a piece of poorly written trash at maximum speed.
Maybe it is full of typos, or maybe the sentences make no sense.
Some readers might even fall into a state of deep self-doubt, thinking their reading comprehension needs improvement because they cannot understand the author’s “profound” grammar.
Bullshit!
Even the author doesn’t know what they wrote.
Stuff updated right before the midnight deadline is pure internet garbage, little more than a handful of snot squeezed out just to meet a quota.
Should one choose to skip an update for quality, or write a random chapter to maximize profit?
This is a philosophy of survival versus destruction.
11:59 PM.
[White Night Soloist]: It’s updated.
[White Night Soloist]: I suggest not reading it yet, though.
I’ll post the refined version tomorrow afternoon.
[White Night Soloist]: I have to work tomorrow morning, so I’m going to sleep.
Goodnight, everyone.
Sweet dreams.
[Yi]: Goodnight, Uncle Bai.
He had originally intended to write a good chapter.
However, Gu Yebai’s ability was limited.
‘That felt so good to write,’ Gu Yebai thought as he stretched.
When writing a novel, time strangely seemed to fly by.
When he immersed his mind in another completely fictional world, the grief of losing his parents was temporarily dulled.
It was like entering another world and living with a different identity.
If people called it escapism, Gu Yebai didn’t mind. He didn’t deny it.
However, after returning to reality, a person still had to keep living.
To one day leave Linchuan, and to have the money to maintain his basic needs, Gu Yebai had to face his life head-on…
Looking back at his parents’ photograph, Gu Yebai smiled.
In truth, he wanted to cry more.
It was just that he was used to acting tough in front of his parents.
Seeing the photo now triggered a reflexive smile.
“Goodnight, Mom and Dad. I won’t give up on myself.”
After washing up, Gu Yebai lay down on his hard wooden bed and quickly fell asleep.
His consciousness slipped into a gentle darkness.
5:20 AM.
Gu Yebai was awakened by his alarm.
His back felt a bit stiff and numb, but tonight was undoubtedly the best night’s sleep he’d had all year.
When his parents were sick, they would cough all night long.
The cot he slept on in the hospital ward made even rolling over a luxury.
He had been forced to sleep in a single position, waking up at least ten times a night.
In front of the mirror, Gu Yebai looked at his haggard face and the slight dark circles under his eyes.
He couldn’t help but give a bitter smile.
If Resident Evil were looking for a character actor to play a zombie, they probably wouldn’t even need to do his makeup.
Furthermore, over the past year, most of his money had been spent at the hospital.
As a son, he had to run around everywhere, and now he was nothing but skin and bones.
Gu Yebai forced a smile.
Sometimes, he wondered if the suffering and injustice he endured weren’t because God wanted to bestow some “great responsibility” upon him, but simply because that old geezer was bored and looking for a laugh.
And Gu Yebai was God’s entertainment.
But Gu Yebai would not be cowardly or wail in misery.
He would stick his face out to take the slap, and after being hit, he’d ask if the other person hadn’t eaten enough.
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly as he flipped off the mirror.
Then, he put on his school uniform and left home.
‘It’s freezing.’
Winter was approaching.
The morning chill hit him in the face.
He walked alone along the potholed path, thinking about the plot of his novel and his future.
Linchuan was a tiny town in Dongling Province, located in the northeastern region.
When autumn and winter arrived, the temperatures were always among the lowest in the country.
Right now, the sun hadn’t fully risen.
It was in a state of superposition between dawn and night.
5:47 AM.
Gu Yebai arrived at the bus stop.
The school was about ten kilometers from his home, and the bus stop was over three kilometers away.
On school days, he walked about six kilometers every day.
In fact, Gu Yebai had considered that, given his current state, webnovels were enough to make a living.
Why not just drop out?
Hadn’t many people reached the pinnacle of life through webnovels?
But after careful consideration, Gu Yebai decided not to be so reckless.
Betting his entire future on the uncontrollable nature of webnovels was an extremely risky move.
In an era where divorce rates were climbing and even love could be a lie, a trivial novel meant even less.
When readers encountered a plot they didn’t like, they would leave silently.
That was perfectly normal.
To get out of this town, to live a life he could be proud of, to let his parents rest in peace, and to go to a wider world, Gu Yebai had to study.
Gu Yebai’s grades were good.
As long as he worked hard, leaving this town and changing his mediocre life wasn’t a pipe dream.
During the days he spent taking care of his parents, Gu Yebai had learned a profound truth.
When the body can’t hold on, it is often the will that leads a person to break through.
He didn’t seek wealth or glory; he only sought freedom.
But freedom often required a minimum amount of wealth and glory.
After a bumpy bus ride, Gu Yebai finally arrived at Linchuan Town Number Five Middle School on time.
The Dean of Students stared gloomily at every student entering the school, like a Nazi officer staring at Jewish prisoners, making Gu Yebai wonder if he had accidentally entered a concentration camp.
“Hey, your hair is getting a bit long.”
The Dean of Students suddenly stopped a student next to Gu Yebai.
The boy nodded like a chicken pecking at grain.
The Dean was a shrewd old man.
He was only overly harsh with the honest kids.
When facing the punks with dyed yellow hair who skipped class to go to internet cafes every day, he was actually kind and gentle, just short of giving a Nazi salute and shouting “Heil Hitler.”
Furthermore, though he strictly enforced the no-smoking rule, he would always find an unobserved corner to openly smoke a premium cigarette.
Gu Yebai entered the grayish-white classroom building and began his first class.
When he felt tired from studying, he would look at the flagpole on the playground.
It wasn’t because of any emotional attachment; it was simply because the flagpole was rusty.
‘Don’t be like that flagpole,’ Gu Yebai constantly reminded himself.
By the second period, the classroom was usually more than half empty.
Groups of boys would head out to cause trouble or shake down elementary schoolers for money, while some girls would hang out with social “big brothers” covered in dragon and tiger tattoos.
Internet cafes, pool halls, bars…
You could find students from Linchuan Town Number Five Middle School anywhere except at the school itself.
There, they were a rare species that deserved protection.
Gu Yebai had seen a Japanese movie called Crows Zero on his phone.
Suzuran High School probably couldn’t even compare to Linchuan.
In the school, good teachers were few and far between.
Sometimes, the content of their lectures was even wrong.
Nonetheless, Gu Yebai worked hard to keep himself in a state of learning.
He hated “duck-filling” education.
Most educational institutions were better described as factories than schools.
They turned people into robots and then, like an assembly line, used a conveyor belt to send them either to a university or a vocational college.
During the lunch break.
His phone suddenly vibrated.
He took it out and saw it was a message from an important reader in his reader group.
[Yi]: Uncle Bai, are you busy?