I only wanted to retire, but I ended up becoming an extremely popular character.

But every time I wanted to give up, Zod's image would appear in my mind.

That little man, struggling to survive on the battlefield, still fought desperately to live even in a time of war.

Zod was a real character, a chatterbox, valuing his life and always ready to run away. But his tenacious vitality and his will to live at all costs truly inspired him and gave him some confidence in life.

To be honest, when people reach middle age, they are neither married nor established in their careers, and they don't even have a job in the future. This situation can easily make people lose their goals and direction in life.

Yu Feng didn't know how much longer he could hold on. His savings were dwindling, his resumes were disappearing without a trace, and his future seemed shrouded in fog, neither visible nor tangible.

He was very fortunate to have found such an anime series and encountered such a character during his most despondent time.

That feeling was just like when he was a child, a left-behind child, sitting alone in front of an old-fashioned television, comforting his young and lonely heart through the characters in cartoons.

The famous TV station "Kongxing" broadcast two episodes of anime every afternoon without fail, and Yu Feng watched them every single day.

Those virtual characters had accompanied him through countless long evenings, making him feel that no matter how lonely and difficult life was, there were still people fighting and persevering in this world.

He is not alone.

Although his chuunibyou blood had cooled, it still flowed through his body.

Now, he also hopes that Zod can become the protagonist in his writing and bring some joy to his readers.

Even if it's just a fleeting moment of joy.

This novel has its reason for existing!

Next, Yu Feng gave his book a title: "Becoming an Imperial General Starts with Mastering the Skills".

He counted carefully; there were thirteen characters, which was just within the platform's character limit.

He racked his brains and wrote a brief introduction, revising it several times until it finally became somewhat appealing.

Once everything was ready, he found an editor's email address on the website, his hands trembling as he opened the email sending page, added the internal document as an attachment, and clicked send.

Next, we just need to wait patiently.

He originally thought that the internal referral would take at least three to five days, or even longer.

Unexpectedly, half an hour later, my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was an email reply.

Yu Feng's heart skipped a beat, and with a "snap," he quickly clicked on it!

A cold, impersonal line of text appeared before my eyes: "You have not yet met the individual internal evaluation criteria; you may submit your application to another editor..."

The first attempt at an inside shot failed, as expected.

He stared at the line of text for a long time. Although he was mentally prepared, how could a rookie's first inside shot be so smooth?

He's not exactly a naturally gifted player.

But when I actually saw this cold, indifferent reply, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me, and the enthusiasm that had just been ignited instantly cooled down.

But Yu Feng was not discouraged.

Recently, he has submitted countless resumes, but has been rejected because of his age.

Repeated disappointments and setbacks had hardened his heart considerably.

What does it matter if you fail once or twice?

Anyone who has experienced the harsh realities of society knows that one or two failures are not necessarily fatal, as long as they are not irreversible.

Ordinary failures are just lessons learned; in the end, they're really nothing.

This isn't some philosophy of life; it's just a compromise that becomes second nature after being repeatedly beaten down by society.

I remember back in high school, I naively thought that earning millions a year was a piece of cake. I exuded an air of self-importance and arrogance, as if the whole world would eventually have to defer to me.

After entering university, my thinking became a bit more realistic: getting a job offer with a monthly salary of 15k after graduation, that's not too much to ask, right?

When I first started looking for a job in my senior year, I was eyeing offers with a monthly salary of over 10k, and I only applied to big companies, acting as if I wouldn't even look at anything less than a prestigious company.

But once the first semester of my senior year was over, my classmates started showing off their job offers one by one, while I was still empty-handed. My pride was gradually worn down by reality.

So they started lowering their standards, applying to any position or company indiscriminately.

After graduation, I joined a small company in a daze, with a monthly salary of four thousand yuan. The job involved working six days a week and having one day off. I was guaranteed not to rest on Saturdays, but not on Sundays. This marked the beginning of my dark and dreary corporate life.

They say "orcs will never be slaves," but if the monthly salary is only four thousand, not including food and lodging, then for the sake of survival, they might as well become slaves.

If you don't test your limits, you won't even know how low they are!

For Yu Feng, this is reality.

For those who aren't naturally gifted, failure is the norm, and success is the exception.

If one idea doesn't work, then write two, three, four... until you write something that satisfies you.

He submitted "Becoming an Imperial General Starts with Mastering the Skills" to another editor.

Then, he didn't just wait for the editor's reply.

Instead of sitting and feeling anxious, I should keep writing.

Anyway, we're just waiting.

He began to come up with new ideas and tried writing different openings.

The biggest advantage of writing fan fiction is that you don't have to worry about constructing a world view, power systems, or character design. The outline can be put aside for now.

He only needs to do one thing: keep polishing the beginning until it's dazzling enough.

Over the next week, Yu Feng tried different tricks, writing four opening paragraphs and submitting them to different editors.

Having learned from his first experience, he typed much faster, at least he no longer had to stare blankly at a document for ages.

Whether it's good or bad, interesting or not, just grit your teeth and write it down.

Further revisions were made, including polishing the sentences and dialogue.

After writing each opening paragraph, he would read it several times, trying to find fault from the reader's perspective.

Is the writing style too immature? Is the plot too bland? Are the characters engaging enough?

He told himself, surely one of these many attempts will get accepted through internal submission? Surely one of them will be noticed by the editor?

However, reality did not make an exception for his efforts.

The new author's somewhat immature writing style, the lack of highlights in the plot design of the first three chapters, and the absence of a reader base like those of veteran authors caused his submission to sink without a trace, drowning in the vast sea of ​​manuscripts in the editor's inbox.

Yu Feng's manuscript never caught the editor's eye, so they pulled it out.

During this period, Yu Feng wrote five completely different beginnings.

Every day, the first thing I do when I open my eyes is write, sitting in front of the computer brainstorming plot ideas.

Before going to sleep, I was still repeatedly thinking about how to revise a certain paragraph.

Even his dreams were like a revolving lantern, dreaming of Zod fighting on the battlefield, and of the characters he had created coming to life.

Then I woke up with a start and found myself still lying in that ten-square-meter rented room, staring blankly at the ceiling.