Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

Headquarters of Red Eggplant Literature Network.

2:48 a.m.

Editors are human too.

But the editor might not be asleep.

Especially the editors.

Zhou Ming had just finished showering.

My hair wasn't even dry yet, and my phone kept vibrating on the table.

hum.

Hey.

buzzing.

He ignored it at first.

It's normal for the editors' group chat to ring in the middle of the night.

The author is experiencing writer's block.

The author has taken leave.

The author and the reader got into an argument.

The author, after drinking too much, said in the group chat that he was going to abandon the project, but ten minutes later he said he could still write another 500 chapters.

Having worked in this line of work for a long time, I've seen all sorts of monsters and demons.

The phone kept vibrating for almost a minute.

Zhou Ming walked over, drying his hair.

Unlock.

Unread messages in the editors' group:

99+.

Zhou Ming was stunned for a moment.

"Whose book exploded?"

Click in.

The bottom message immediately catches the eye.

【@zhouming】

[Old Zhou!!!]

Is the old scoundrel on Mount Akina that you're in charge of Lin Yuan?

Zhou Ming stopped drying his hair.

next second.

Another message popped up in the group chat.

[This is trending! Look!]

Then there are links.

Then came the screenshots.

Then there's a timeline that's been forwarded countless times.

Zhou Ming looked at the three characters "Lin Yuan".

blinked.

Then he looked at "Old Man of Mount Akina".

His expression was somewhat blank.

Lin Yuan?

Who?

Two seconds later.

react.

Zhou Ming was amused.

"These netizens are really good at making things up."

A 19-year-old director with 4.2 billion yuan in revenue.

With entertainment news everywhere lately, of course he knows them.

He just watched Initial D a couple of days ago.

It really looks good.

But is Lin Yuan really just some old scoundrel from Mount Akina?

What a joke!

He's an old scoundrel who signed it himself.

Others don't know.

How could he not know?

That account was completely clean back then.

Zero works.

Zero contracts signed.

A completely innocent newbie account.

When "Zhu Xian" was first submitted, he suspected that some great author had come in disguise to sabotage the game.

After checking the backend system—

Newcomer.

A true newcomer.

He even asked about it specifically.

Thinking of this, Zhou Ming casually typed in the group chat.

Stop fooling around.

[The old scoundrel was a complete novice back then.]

The message has just been sent.

The group chat suddenly went silent for a moment.

then:

【? 】

【？？】

[Old Zhou, your statement doesn't seem to refute the point.]

Zhou Ming frowned.

What does it mean to not refute the point?

He was about to continue typing.

Someone in the group asked:

How old was he when he registered?

Zhou Ming's fingers stopped.

How old?

He doesn't remember that.

All contracts are signed using real names and information.

Editors generally only verify identity information; who memorizes an author's birthdate every day?

He replied casually:

I don't know, let me check.

Sent.

Zhou Ming threw the towel onto the back of the chair.

I sat down in front of the computer.

Turn on.

Log in to the backend.

Search for the author.

Old scoundrel of Mount Akina.

The page pops up.

It's so familiar that it couldn't be more familiar.

"Zhu Xian"

Murder on the Orient Express.

Dragon Raja.

"The Rural Teacher"

Each book is followed by a string of data that pleases the editors.

Zhou Ming didn't look at these.

Move the mouse up.

Author information.

Verified.

Click to open.

The name field is protected by access permissions.

The editor's account can only see a portion of the information.

Zhou Ming didn't pay attention.

Continue.

Year of birth.

The mouse stopped.

The smile on Zhou Ming's face vanished.

He stared at the screen.

Didn't move.

A few seconds passed.

He slowly leaned forward a little.

I think I've misread it.

eighteen.

When registering an account—

Eighteen years old.

The room was very quiet.

The only sound was the low whirring of the computer's fan.

Zhou Ming stared at that number for a good ten seconds.

My first reaction wasn't shock.

It's absurd.

How is that possible?

The afternoon when he first reviewed "Zhu Xian" suddenly flashed through his mind.

He read all seven chapters at that time.

What was your first reaction?

The master's alternate account.

He forwarded the manuscript to the editor-in-chief, Jiang Cheng.

Twenty minutes later, Jiang Cheng called directly.

"Zhou Ming, is 'Zhu Xian' just an alternate account of a popular online figure?"

他 说:

"Newcomer".

Jiang Cheng didn't believe it.

Are you sure?

"The backstage area is spotless."

later.

A-level contract.

Guaranteed minimum.

Highest commission for newcomers.

The author even stipulated in the first contract that all derivative rights, including film, games, comics, and audiobooks, be retained.

At that time, Zhou Ming still found it strange.

A newcomer submitting their first article.

How come he understands copyright better than many veteran authors?

He couldn't help but ask:

"Excuse me, have you had any writing experience before?"

The other party replied very quickly.

Eight characters.

[This is my first time submitting a submission, and I've never written one before.]

Zhou Ming stared at those eight characters and sighed for a long time.

First time submission.

He wrote "Zhu Xian".

The differences between people are sometimes greater than the differences between people and single-celled organisms.

just now……

Zhou Ming looked at the screen again.

Eighteen years old.

Lin Yuan was also eighteen years old last year.

An idea popped into my head uncontrollably.

"That can't be..."

The sound was very soft.

No one answered.

He picked up his phone.

People in the group have already started urging us.

[Old Zhou?]

Did you find it?

[What about people? 】

[Did she fall asleep?]

Zhou Ming did not reply.

He opened his browser.

search.

Lin Yuan.

Encyclopedia page.

Date of birth.

Switch back to the background.

Old scoundrel of Mount Akina.

Date of birth.

same.

Zhou Ming remained silent.

This certainly doesn't prove anything.

There are plenty of people born in the same year and month.

Let alone the whole country.

You can find a lot of them in just one city.

But I don't know why.

He suddenly remembered the contract.

Film and television copyrights.

Back then, Lin Yuan—

No.

Back then, that old scoundrel from Mount Akina held the film and television rights firmly in his hands.

Zhou Ming's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

The novel "Zhu Xian" was not sold.

The Dragon Raja was not sold.

Murder on the Orient Express was not sold.

Old Man has held onto all the core IP rights tightly since the very first book.

Previously, they all thought this was a newcomer with an extraordinary awareness of copyright.

But if...

What if that person is the director themselves?

Zhou Ming slowly sat up straight.

"wrong."

He opened the company's internal communication software.

A name was found.

Jiang Cheng.

The message was sent.

[Editor-in-chief, are you asleep?]

No reply.

Zhou Ming waited for ten seconds.

Just make a phone call.

It rang seven or eight times.

connected.

The voice on the other end of the phone clearly sounded annoyed at being woken up.

"Zhou Ming, you'd better be busy."

"Something's up."

"Did the author die suddenly?"

"no."

"The book has been banned?"

"No, not at all."

"Then at three in the morning—"

"Editor-in-Chief".

Zhou Ming interrupted him.

The voice is a bit dry.

Do you remember when that old rascal from Mount Akina first submitted his work?

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"The Legend of Chusen?"

"Um."

"What's wrong?"

"You asked me back then if he was a pseudonym of a popular online figure."

Jiang Cheng seemed to have sobered up a bit.

"And then you tell me you're a complete newbie."

"right."

"so what?"

Zhou Ming stared at the computer screen.

"Someone online is saying..."

pause.

"He is Lin Yuan."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Jiang Cheng then chuckled.

"You called me at 3 a.m. just to say this?"

"I thought it was ridiculous at first too."

"Then why don't you—"

He was eighteen when he registered his account.

There was no sound on the other end of the phone.

Zhou Ming continued:

"Born in the same month and year as Lin Yuan."

There was still no sound.

"and……"

Zhou Ming licked his slightly dry lips.

"Do you remember when he first signed an A-level contract, he didn't fight for anything?"

"There was no competition for the minimum guarantee."

"There was no dispute over profit sharing."

"No debate about the recommendation."

"The only thing I've held onto—"

On the other end of the phone.

Jiang Cheng's voice changed for the first time.

"IP copyright".

"right."

The two fell silent at the same time.

3:06 AM.

A phone call.

Two computers.

Two editors with many years of experience in the industry.

Neither of them spoke first.

Because they were thinking of the same thing at the same time.

If it's just an 18-year-old new author who's holding onto film and television rights so early, it can be explained as having good foresight.

If this eighteen-year-old new author—

He was originally a student in the directing department of the Beijing Film Academy.

What if he actually became a director later on?

What if his first patriotic film wins the Spring Festival box office championship?

What if he made Initial D, which grossed 4.2 billion yen, when he was nineteen?

Those details that once seemed a little strange, but not so strange as to warrant further investigation.

Suddenly everything became clear.

A rustling sound came from Jiang Cheng's side.

It looks like they've gotten up.

After a while.

"I'm logging into the backend."

"Um."

"Don't say it in the group chat yet."

"I know."

"besides."

Jiang Cheng paused for a moment.

"The author's real name information must not be disclosed."

"clear."

The phone hangs up.

Zhou Ming leaned back in his chair.

Looking at the screen.

Suddenly, I had a very absurd feeling.

The entire internet is now waiting for Red Eggplant to come out and refute the rumors.

The literary world is also waiting.

Even Lin Yuan's own fans are trying to refute the rumors about him.

But they didn't know that.

The red eggplants inside are now more eager to know the answer than they are to them.

……