I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 10 Don’t use Qianlong
Before Wang Zixu's body could no longer hold on, his chaotic month finally came to an end.

This month, he focused on his shortcomings, made up for his weaknesses, and ran at literary acceleration with the attitude of a challenger.

One month, 60 scripts, a total of 15 words.

As he looked at the neatly arranged documents in his computer folder, Wang Zixu felt a sense of pride, just like when he used Qin Shi Huang to fill up all the ancient wonders in Civilization VI.

15 words is equivalent to the number of words in a qualified novel. These scripts interpret love and the way of libido from various perspectives of life. They are the crystallization of imagination and beauty.

Moreover, even his own works would be moved anew when he re-examined them. He felt that these works were no less than those books that have become popular in China in recent years. He was confident that if these scripts were compiled into a book, there would be a good chance of publication.

Unfortunately, scripts are just scripts, tools for speech therapy, and commodities rather than works of art. In the literary world, they are magnificent elegant music, the national style and Li Sao; in the literary world, they are obscene lyrics and songs, without the national style and Li Sao, only the coquettish style.

He thought with regret that the libido aroused by these scripts would fade, the speech therapists who had read them would grow old, and these texts would be buried in his computer disks, and in two hundred years of electronic movement, they would perish along with all other digital information and be lost in history.

And all these inspiration, talent and imagination ultimately condensed into just 20,000 yuan in royalties for him.

But he has no regrets.

He had inquired about the publishing industry and found that if a new and unknown author published a book, he could get a few thousand yuan in royalties, which was a good deal. An author of his age who had never published any works could only publish at his own expense.

From the perspective of the publisher, being able to publish a physical book is already a great honor, so why would they want money? A few thousand dollars to make a good relationship, or even a friend, is already good enough.

If your first book becomes a big hit unexpectedly, your royalties will not increase, but you can get a slightly more favorable share of the next book. But most people fail after their first book. Because the public's attention is limited, and even less is allocated to literature, such miracles of sudden success only happen once or twice a year, while there are more than five carts of books published in a year.

Wang Zixu cast a divination for himself and got the Qian hexagram. The dragon in hiding is not in use, the Yang is below. He wanted to continue like this, but he could only continue to lie dormant and wait for his chance.

……

On payday, Zuo Ziliang and Wang Zixu made an appointment at the coffee shop where they had met before, saying that he would give him the money in person.

"Every time I meet you, it feels like we're having an affair." In the coffee shop, Zuo Ziliang took a sip from the water cup, and the ring on his finger flashed.

"..."

Wang Zixu was very dissatisfied with his rhetoric. If it was an affair, he would rather have a well-educated, well-mannered, and charming lady from a wealthy family than a bald man who made a living by selling libido.

Zuo Ziliang took out an envelope from his pocket and slapped it on the table. It was a thick stack of paper, still warm from his body temperature. Wang Zixu picked it up like a thief, unsealed it, bent over and glanced inside. It was full of money. He crushed it with his fingers, and a "pa pa" sounded, producing an ascending melody.

After putting the money in his pocket, Wang Zixu said, "Do you know?"

Zuo Ziliang said: "Hmm?"

"I have thought of many ways to collect royalties before," Wang Zixu said, "but I definitely have never thought of this one."

Zuo Ziliang said, "I called you out this time because I have something to tell you. I've thought about it for a long time and I think it would be a good idea to ask you to give a lecture to our speech therapists. They have a lot of misunderstandings about your scripts. In addition, you can listen to the opinions of frontline speech therapists, which will be good for your future script writing."

Zuo Ziliang said this very seriously, as if he was afraid that Wang Zixu would not agree. But Wang Zixu didn't think it was a big deal, and he didn't mind sharing his understanding of creation with others.

He said: "I am just worried that I don't have enough time. Writing two scripts every day is quite exhausting."

Zuo Ziliang said: "That's easy. One class you take is worth two scripts, and I will pay you 800 yuan for each class."

When he heard that there was money, Wang Zixu became interested and said, "Okay, we can give it a try."

Zuo Ziliang smiled and said, "It seems you haven't joined the group yet? I'll recommend it to you, please join it."

"What group?"

"It's a chat group. You can talk in the group later." Wang Zixu has always had an inexplicable resistance to "group".

The word "qun" always reminded Wang Zixu of cattle and horses. He also understood that this was his own problem, not the problem of the person who named him, because if he had a higher level of education, he would have associated this word with mathematics.

Wang Zixu's unit also had a work group, and the leader asked everyone to join the group, saying it would facilitate work arrangements. Wang Zixu also joined, and he became a slave.

Every time the leader speaks in the group, no matter what he says, there will be an instant buzz of moos in the group, with people either sending "received" or "applause", and the chat box is filled with dense messages, making the atmosphere even more lively than when there is a meeting in person.

The worst thing is that the leader likes to write poetry. He always posts his half-literate old-style poems in the group, and each time he receives unanimous praise from his colleagues.

Wang Zixu was serious about literature and sincere to himself, so he could not praise his leader's poems no matter what.

But his leader knew that he liked literature, and he always asked for his opinion. Every time this happened, Wang Zixu would say something against his will.

But even if it was considered as betraying his aesthetic taste, his polite words seemed a bit harsh compared to the flattery of his colleagues, so he vaguely felt that his leader was quite dissatisfied with him.

Because of his experience in large groups, he had a negative impression of group chats, and when other colleagues later invited him to join small groups, he always chose to refuse. Over time, he isolated himself.

This was the end of Wang Zixu's entire understanding of group chats. So after joining the group chat that Baldy had pushed to him, he was shocked by the lively atmosphere.

"Welcome, boss. Group status -1."

"Breaking photos of newcomers!"

"Welcome, welcome! Once you join the group, we're a family!"

The prince fainted. He had no idea what they were talking about.

He clicked on the profile pictures of these people one by one, checked their nicknames and signatures, and confirmed that he did not know them. In this way, he could only understand this welcome ceremony as natural hospitality.

So he wrote a 200-word thank-you message using the most elegant words possible. After he finished writing it, he looked at the group chat and found that no one was talking about him being a new member of the group.

Zuo Ziliang sat opposite and said, "Have you joined the group? Yes? Why is your online name your real name? You are really brave."

Wang Zixu said: "This is my work account. I only add people I know in real life. For convenience, I use my real name."

Zuo Ziliang said: "Although your name is not too vulgar, I suggest you change it."

Wang Zixu asked: "What kind of online name is better?"

Zuo Ziliang said: "No one cares, just give it a memorable name. I don't like notes. If you really don't know what to give it, just look at what other people in the group have given it."

Wang Zixu flipped through the chat history and looked at the nicknames of other group members——

chicken.

Oleander.

Pork wholesaler Xiaohan.

Sunny and cheerful Sakura-chan.

……

(End of this chapter)