I asked you to write a light novel, but you wrote about living?

In the basement, Yu Wen was typing a scene depicting Fugui and Chunsheng dividing dry rations in a bomb crater.

After he finished typing, he habitually glanced at the upper right corner:

[Number of online users: 4]

Yu Wen's fingers paused for a moment.

Four?

daytime?

He thought he had misread it.

The live stream screen switched, and he glanced at the chat section.

Four bullet comments hung there quietly.

There was no cursing, no urging for updates, and no sarcastic remarks; it was a serious question.

Yu Wen paused for a few seconds, then carefully read through the comments.

Magnolia officinalis

A salted fish that doesn't read books

Evening Breeze

[The Reader]

None of the four IDs are flashy, nor do they have any fancy badges or level frames.

But every single comment was asking a serious question.

Especially the last question asking about the source of the "Preface".

Yu Wen's eyes flickered.

In this era, few people even know what a "preface" is.

People who ask this kind of question either truly understand it or are genuinely reading it carefully.

Yu Wen was silent for a few seconds. He lifted his fingers off the keyboard, leaned back in his chair, and thought for a moment.

Should we reply?

As is his usual practice, he is not very willing to discuss the plot with readers.

Firstly, this book is not his own, and he does not want to interpret Mr. Yu Hua's work as an "author".

Secondly, this kind of book loses its appeal if it contains spoilers or explanations.

Its power lies entirely in the moment the reader reaches that point.

But these four people are different from the viewers who came in to curse, urge for more updates, or mock him as an "ancient human."

They came with questions.

Yu Wen hesitated for a moment, but finally put his hands back on the keyboard.

He didn't answer the question about the plot, but instead said something rather restrained:

[Host]: Hello, I won't spoil the plot of this book. You can continue reading, and it might give you a different feeling.

In the study room, the four students looked at each other and exchanged glances after seeing the reply.

Lu Zhao couldn't help but whisper:

"This author is quite interesting; he won't answer questions about the plot."

Lin Wan smiled and said, "Yes, I am a bit arrogant."

Jiang Ci typed another comment:

[Xin Yi: May I ask about something else? If I may be so bold as to ask, what is your profession?]

She thought for a moment, then added another sentence.

[Xin Yi: We were just curious.]

In the basement, Yu Wen saw this comment and laughed.

They are a few rather cautious people.

Instead of directly asking for personal information, they first pose an open-ended question.

He replied:

[Host]: You authors, what about you? What are your professions?

[Evening Breeze: A student.]

[The salted fish that doesn't read books: is also a student.]

Cheng Shuqiao and Jiang Ci hesitated for a moment.

They actually wanted to answer truthfully, but their identities were somewhat sensitive in this era.

The graduate students of Weiming University, especially those in the School of Narrative Studies, are among the very few people in this era who can do "traditional scholarship".

Their family background, social resources, and living conditions are on a completely different level from the person on the other end of this live stream.

Saying it directly would seem abrupt.

Jiang Ci thought for a moment and finally replied:

[Magnolia: Student.]

[Viewer: Student.]

All four of them claimed to be students.

In the basement, Yu Wen looked at the four neatly arranged "students" and chuckled again.

He silently analyzed it in his mind.

These four people were able to stay in his live stream during their daytime work hours watching a pair of hands type on a keyboard, patiently read through 36,000 words, and even ask questions like the source of the "Preface".

Their family background should be quite good.

At least they weren't kids from the downtown area.

Children in the downtown area don't have time to "be students" during the day.

These people are probably from the central district, or even higher.

But why did I suddenly notice my own book?

This book currently has a total of 36,000 words and ranks over 14,000th, not even making it to the recommendation section.

According to the algorithm's logic, it's simply impossible for it to appear in the field of vision of people in the central urban area or above.

So he asked:

[Host]: That's great. How did you find out about this book?

The four students looked at each other.

This is a bit of a problem.

We can't exactly say, "Professor Shen Yanqiu stayed up all night and came to the research lab specifically to have us read this book."

Jiang Ci reacted the fastest, replying directly:

[Xin Yi: A friend recommended this book, saying it's well-written and suggested we take a look.]

Blurring.

It wasn't lying, but it wasn't telling the truth either.

Lu Zhao then added:

[The Unread Salty Fish: Author, if I may ask, what experiences did you have that led you to write a book like this?]

This question is quite straightforward.

Yu Wen looked down at his hands with their distinct knuckles...

experience?

His experiences included rushing to finish reports in an office building at 2 a.m. before time travel, getting food poisoning from eating spicy hot pot with gutter oil, and living the life of a corporate slave with a mortgage and Alipay credit.

The "experience" described in this book belongs to Mr. Yu Hua.

He, Yu Wen, is nothing.

He was just a porter.

Yu Wen remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he smiled and typed a line.

[Host]: I don't have much experience. I had a dream, and there was this story in the dream. I wrote it down after I woke up.

The four students looked at the reply and exchanged glances.

Lu Zhao couldn't help but mutter to himself:

"...had a dream?"

"That's an interesting answer."

Lin Wan found the author's answer strange.

Jiang Ci, however, seemed to be deep in thought.

Cheng Shuqiao didn't speak; he silently memorized the sentence in his heart:

"I had a dream."

That's a very strange answer.

It is neither a lie nor the truth.

It's more like a...

Avoid.

In the basement, after typing "I had a dream," Yu Wen didn't continue the conversation.

He put his hands back on the keyboard and continued typing.

The four students in the study room didn't ask any more questions.

They sat quietly in the live stream room, listening to the crisp, unadulterated sounds of physical collisions slowly coming through the audio channel.

[Number of online users: 4]

The number hangs quietly in the upper right corner.

About ten minutes later.

The number in the upper right corner of the live stream suddenly moved.

[Number of online users: 5]

A new audience member came in.

The four students didn't notice.

They were still discussing what the phrase "had a dream" meant.

Only Yu Wen, after finishing typing a section, habitually glanced up.

[Number of online users: 5]

Another one?

What happened today?

Yu Wen didn't think much of it and lowered his head again.

He didn't notice that the fifth new audience member had a very simple ID, consisting of only two characters.

【Shou Zhuo】