Chapter 119: The World Fell Silent (Requesting Monthly Tickets)-I Really Didn't Mean to Mislead(Mr. Shy Cat)

Li He, of course, was unaware that the respected veteran comrade had fallen back into a state of insomnia. After sharing the video clips sent by Wu Guang with Old Qin, Li He hesitated for a moment and ultimately decided against forwarding them to his immediate superior, Zhang Yang.

Once the video matter was settled, Li He opened WeChat and tapped on a group chat he had just joined. It was an invitation from Wang Ke, an editor at Baidu, and consisted of ordinary authors from the fantasy department—excluding any "big shot" authors. The group was quite active.

As a newcomer, Li He greeted the veterans politely and then silently switched to "lurker" mode. At that moment, an author was complaining that readers these days were too picky, and no matter how one wrote, someone would always be dissatisfied. Reading the discussion, Li He felt that the other person’s readers were truly difficult to handle; by comparison, his own readers were far more adorable.

As the chat progressed, an author suddenly tagged Li He: "Big Shot, there are so many active comments in the *Wu Dong* review section every day. How do you manage that?"

This was a question everyone in the group was curious about. In the web novel world, there were only two authors whose review sections were consistently active: the first was a "Big Shot" whose readers spent every day voting on which character they hated the most. The second was Li He, a phenomenon that only emerged after he started taking time off.

Li He thought about it, but he didn't really know the answer himself. To make readers active in the review section, the content simply had to make them feel immersed; once that happened, they would naturally become active. However, he couldn't say that—it would make him seem pretentious and wouldn't help foster friendly relations within the group.

Li He typed: "You have to make the readers feel that their favorite character is walking a tightrope."

The other author didn't understand: "What do you mean?"

"It means there’s always a possibility they might be 'knifed' [killed off]. The higher their popularity, the better."

The group went silent. Everyone stopped talking. They felt the "Big Shot" was trying to set them up. Killing off a popular character was pure suicide—a classic example being the time the Big Shot killed the protagonist in his grand finale, only to be forced to rewrite the ending to save him.

The author replied: "Big Shot, I haven't offended you, and our genres don't even clash. There's no need to sabotage me like this!" Encouraging others to kill off popular characters was like trying to lead an honest person into a life of vice. It was too cruel.

Li He responded: "If you kill a popular character, the readers will be so angry they'll naturally start posting comments. Back and forth, the review section will liven up, won't it?"

Li He felt his logic was sound. Although the consequences were a bit severe, the review section did indeed become very lively. The author took a long time to squeeze out a response: "I’m not as brave as the Big Shot."

Indeed, he wasn't as brave, nor did he have the same level of popularity. Being the genre's pioneer had its perks. Other authors stopped watching and joined the discussion.

*Poker Card:* "I think the Big Shot has a point, it’s just a bit 'reader-intensive' to do it this way."

*Little Sapling:* "It’s not just reader-intensive, you might get hot-headed fans mailing you razor blades! This is life-threatening!"

At this point, Li He couldn't help but type his own perspective.

*Big Shot:* "You could open an online store. For detailed steps, refer to the Big Shot—I heard he makes several thousand yuan a month in net profit by reselling the razor blades his readers mail to him."

Li He wasn't exaggerating. Last month's net profit from the store was 3,620 yuan, and there was a chance it would be even higher this month. Readers were sometimes so strange and adorable; even knowing the store belonged to the Big Shot, they still eagerly bought back the blades they had sent. Li He didn't understand it; when he first opened the store, his goal was just to annoy the readers and harvest some "leeks." He hadn't expected it to actually be profitable.

After deducting employee costs, he still had several thousand left each month. In the words of the readers, "The blade doesn't cost much—it's only a few yuan. For a few yuan, I get the satisfaction and thrill of hundreds." Li He didn't understand what "the thrill of hundreds" meant, so he couldn't judge how satisfied they were. Regardless, he was quite pleased; he made money while sitting down, and continued to harvest a significant amount of "negative emotion points." Razor blades were truly a wonderful thing.

After Li He posted his opinion, the chat fell into an eerie silence again. Wang Ke, who was lurking, couldn't fathom why the Big Shot’s thought process was so strange; it was as if he wouldn't be satisfied until he had sabotaged every other writer in the group. First, suggesting they kill off popular characters, then luring them into opening blade-selling stores—it was a chain reaction.

An author couldn't hold back anymore; the chat had been fine until the Big Shot arrived and changed the whole vibe.

*Brave to the End:* "Big Shot, stop trying to convince us to kill characters and open stores. When are you going to kill one for fun?"

"Holy crap!" Wang Ke, who was lurking, was instantly unsettled. Which editor was this 'Brave to the End' under? How could his heart be so vicious?

Li He looked at the crude provocation and thought, you don't need to goad me—I already have that in mind. He deliberated his tone and typed: "I’ve had the thought, but hadn't decided yet. Since you've asked, I'll kill one off to set an example."

Li He said it lightly, but the message dropped into the group like a bomb.

*Brave to the End:* "Big Shot, I surrender."

*Poker Card:* "Don't be impulsive, Big Shot. 'End' was just joking, don't take it seriously."

Killing a character wasn't something you could just do. Some characters couldn't even be scratched, let alone killed; the readers would tear you apart. Furthermore, looking at the Big Shot's track record, "killing a character" didn't just mean a simple death—it was likely a highly popular supporting character. Subscriptions would plummet. You couldn't do such a self-destructive thing.

The other authors couldn't sit still either. How did a complaint about readers turn into a war against them? This was a recipe for disaster.

*Little Leaf:* "Big Shot, how many words are left until *Wu Dong* finishes?" He intended to change the subject; it was too heavy.

*Big Shot:* "Just these next few days."

The plot of *Wu Dong* had entered the late stage. The Ice Ancestor had successfully revived, the Flame Ancestor and others were following suit, and the Evil Demon Emperor was nearly breaking free from the Symbol Ancestor's seal, approaching the continent. According to Li He's plan, it would finish in a few days, and *The Return of the Condor Heroes* could seamlessly bridge the gap. Li He was looking forward to seeing the power of the "Dragon Knight."

*Brave to the End:* "Big Shot, you're way too fast! You started the book only a few months ago, and it's already ending. You're almost as fast as the Big Shot."

*Battle Through the Heavens* was published in April and finished at the end of July—over three months of VIP serialization, with nearly 700,000 words updated per month. *Wu Dong*'s update volume was similar. However, because the Big Shot was the founder of the 'waste-wood' genre, *Battle* had much more fame.

*Little Leaf:* "I really envy you guys for being able to type so fast. For a 'handicapped' person like me, 4,000 words a day is my limit."

*Scapegoat Panda:* "+1."

*Red Keyboard:* "+1."

*White Cat Sheriff:* "+1."

*Red High Heels:* "Big Shot, I’ve been following *Wu Dong* the whole time. I feel like it can still be written further. The world the Evil Demons came from could easily sustain another million words, and readers would keep paying for it."

*Flying Grass:* "That's right. *Wu Dong* is currently super popular and has high heat—ending it isn't a good choice."

Switching maps to a higher-level world was a common trope in fantasy. As long as the readers kept paying, the author could keep switching maps. It would get easier to write as you went along, as the tropes were all the same. However, Li He didn't need to do that. He had inventory in his system, and new works could harvest even more negative emotion points.

With negative emotion points, why worry about not having anything to "port"?

While other authors in the group were amazed that *Wu Dong* was ending, they didn't have any strong feelings beyond regret. But Wang Ke was different; the second Li He mentioned it would end in a few days, a private message popped up.

*Wang Ke:* "Is *Wu Dong* really ending?"

He obviously didn't believe it, because when the setting of the Evil Demons coming from an external world was introduced, he had already concluded that the Big Shot would keep writing. Why introduce that setting if you weren't going to follow through?

Li He deliberated his tone—it wouldn't be good to upset the editor again; Liu Da's reaction last time had been intense.

*Big Shot:* "It's about done. If I keep writing, it'll ruin my reputation. It's starting to look like an infinite nesting doll."

Even so, Wang Ke felt a sense of constipation; it was incredibly uncomfortable. He suddenly understood how his old rival, Liu Da, must have felt back then.

*Wang Ke:* "Any ideas for the new book yet?" As long as there was a new book, it was fine.

*Big Shot:* "Haven't decided yet."

Some settings in *The Return of the Condor Heroes* needed modification, as some content involved *The Legend of the Condor Heroes*, which required adjustments or explanations.

*No new book?* Wang Ke was in a foul mood. The Big Shot’s book finished early, and the new book started seamlessly. Wang Ke wanted to try one more time: "Why don't you think about it? Just keep writing for now, it's not too late to end it once you have a plan for the new book." Write out the subsequent world, and he would be forced to keep updating... Wang Ke's plan was sound.

To his surprise, Li He's next words shattered his composure and made him want to slap himself.

*Big Shot:* "That would just be a poorly finished ending, right? Cutting it off without a proper conclusion? That wouldn't be good."

*Is that what I meant?!* Wang Ke was on the verge of a breakdown. He had brought Li He into the group to have him communicate with other authors. Lurking and eating popcorn was fun, so why was the person watching the show the one who ended up the most miserable?

He pulled Li He into a private chat, and the group returned to its normal rhythm, as if the Big Shot had never appeared. The authors went back to complaining about readers, while Li He considered how to modify the plot settings of *The Return of the Condor Heroes*. The ending for *Wu Dong* had been finalized a long time ago, so no changes were needed there.

Only Wang Ke sat alone in the night, grieving. He decided to seek comfort, but after flipping through his entire contact list, he found that only his old rival, Liu Da, who had experienced the same thing, could truly talk about it. Wang Ke didn't send a message; he called, worried that his rival might be asleep and miss a text notification.

Soon, the call connected.

"What is it?"

The voice didn't sound like someone who had been woken up, which left Wang Ke inexplicably disappointed. He gathered his emotions and said: "The Big Shot just told me that *Wu Dong* will end in a few days. He’s not going to write about the larger world afterward. He's just stopping."

"That's fine. Endless map-switching ruins your reputation. He can just start another 'waste-wood' genre book and it'll still be popular." The point was, the new book would continue the 'waste-wood' style, and not everyone was a Big Shot who could found a school with every book. Liu Da was very proud.

Wang Ke sighed: "The most infuriating thing is that the Big Shot has no plans for a new book. I'm worried he'll take a break for half a year or so."

"It's normal for an author to rest for a few months after finishing an old book." Liu Da was even prouder: "Do you think everyone is a Big Shot who can seamlessly transition between old and new books? There is only one Big Shot."

Wang Ke felt even worse; his old rival wasn't comforting him—he was mocking him. He forgot how he used to show off in front of Liu Da.

Li He knew nothing of the grievances between the two editors. If he did, he would just record their daily bickering and turn them into emojis.

During the few days Li He spent modifying the plot of *The Condor Heroes*, *Longing for Life* began warming up for its second episode. The pre-promotion wasn't as exaggerated as the first, where every singer in Shengshi Entertainment reposted it. The official account was reposting it, but the momentum was much weaker. Even so, a large number of Shengshi-signed artists spontaneously shared the short video released by the show's team.

This was because the planner of the show wasn't just anyone; it was the songwriter "Jia Bei." The importance of a songwriter to a singer is self-evident—they are their lifeline—and Jia Bei was an extremely special existence among them. Not only did he write good songs, but, dammit, he sang them well too, even better than many professional singers. It was simply outrageous.

With a massive number of artists sharing it, Douyin was soon filled with short videos of Li He's new song. On the internet, anticipation for the second episode of *Longing for Life* was intense, and people were even more expectant about the "gift" Jia Bei mentioned in the previous video. As the show’s short clips spread, Jia Bei’s fans began flooding into Douyin.

Yes, Li He now had his own fans.

The person most excited and expectant about the release of this clip wasn't those longing for the full version of *The Ordinary Road*, but Ding Zhong. He had been getting blasted too hard. Whenever someone listened to the chopped-up version of *The Ordinary Road*, they would inevitably come to his account to leave a few scathing comments. His Douyin account had seen his comment volume skyrocket, becoming one of the most commented-on accounts on the platform. Two days ago, he had even made the trending search list.

Seeing the new video from the show's team, especially the caption, Ding Zhong almost cried. It was finally coming to an end.

Netizens and fans clicked in without much thought and started playback.

*Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...*

Countless viewers began to watch. The first frame presented to everyone was the familiar Mushroom House courtyard: night, starlight, and the silhouette of Jia Bei holding a guitar. This time it was a front-facing shot, not a back view.

The number of comments rose rapidly. Many people watched the video while leaving comments and discussing.

"He's singing! He's singing!"

"The days of waiting weren't in vain; Teacher Jia Bei is finally singing again."

"Is it the full version of *The Ordinary Road*? Although I don't feel like there's much hope, I still hope it is. I love *The Ordinary Road* so much."

"Doesn't look like *The Ordinary Road*. Teacher Jia Bei already said he'd use that for the September song battle; why would he sing it now?"

"Could it be a new song?"

"Holy crap! Is it really a new song? I want to fast forward so bad!"

"Do you think it might be..."

"Shut up."

"Shut up, nobody thinks you're mute if you don't talk."

"If you can't talk, use tape to seal your mouth."

"..."

Some were hoping for the full version of *The Ordinary Road*. Some were hoping for a new song. Some were nervous it might be another "chopped" version. Some were just there to watch the show.

The show's team didn't zoom in on the characters like the last episode; this time, the background courtyard was included in the shot. The first episode was to protect the content from leaking, but for the second, there was no need.

The video started with a long shot, moving from the courtyard gate to Jiang You sitting obediently on a small stool, Teacher He holding an ear of corn, and the legendary Xie Shun holding a spatula. Seeing Xie Shun with a spatula, the netizens were amused.

"Teacher Xie Shun must be scared."

"Teacher Xie Shun, stay calm. Even if you fight, don't hit the face. We still need Teacher Jia Bei's looks to enjoy our meals."

"Jiang You is so cute, sitting on his little stool so seriously."

"Did Teacher He just come back from the cornfield? How many ears of corn did the show team scam from the guests today?"

"The one above is wrong, it's how many ears of corn did Teacher Jia Bei scam."

"My bet is Teacher Jia Bei went to sponge a meal again."

"Looking at their reactions, there's no doubt Teacher Jia Bei is singing a new song."

"Holy crap, writing a new song in a week? I ask you, who else can do that?"

"Come and learn, @SongwriterDingZhong."

"..."

Jia Bei’s fans began manually tagging Ding Zhong to come and learn how to write songs. The fans of He Luoluo, He Xi'er, and Jiang Qi followed suit, and then Jiang You's fans joined the army tagging Ding Zhong.

Just as the five fanbases were happily tagging Ding Zhong, a melodic guitar solo began to flow like a stream in the quiet night. To accompany Li He's opening, the show’s editors had added footage of the mountain village at night—the bright moon, the gurgling stream, the croaking frogs, the night breeze. Every frame was intoxicating; the quiet rural night was truly something to long for.

The screen returned to Li He, his slender black silhouette under the moonlight having a unique charm. The editing team had consulted with friends in the post-production department of idol dramas, and it paid off. The camera zoomed in, Li He’s handsome, enviable face centered in the frame, his head slightly lowered, fingers gently brushing the strings with composure, all paired with a filter exclusive to idol dramas. When Li He saw it, he couldn't help but shiver—the editor must have watched too many idol dramas; are they poisoned?

The frame slowly expanded, the stone-walled courtyard appearing in the viewers' sight. Li He's deep, slightly raspy voice echoed in the courtyard, drifting through the speakers into every corner of the city.

A new song... It was a brand new song. Jia Bei had written another new song.

Ding Zhong, who had been tagged, stared blankly at the slender figure on his phone screen and the voice that made people sink into its melody.

"Can I really beat him?"

For some reason, the voice kept echoing in Ding Zhong's mind, refusing to leave. Writing a song a week—just hearing the intro, he could tell the quality wasn't low. Yes, *again*. He was a songwriter; judging the key and quality of a song from the intro wasn't difficult.

Ding Zhong didn't know if Jia Bei would sing *The Ordinary Road* himself for the September battle, or if he would let a long-established singer do it. *Cuitan Entertainment* had already confirmed who would be singing for them in September. Ding Zhong was doubting: would she be Jia Bei's rival?

Singing skills? Jia Bei didn't lose. Song quality? Jia Bei didn't lose. Publicity? Jia Bei didn't lose. Popularity and fame? The September battle wasn't just a contest of individual popularity anymore, but a battle between two companies, Shengshi and Cuitan.

When *The Ordinary Road* came out, he didn't have this feeling, but after another high-quality song popped up a week later, Ding Zhong couldn't hold it together. Jia Bei's songwriting frequency was too high, too fast. It was terrifying, making people timid, making them wonder if there was a team behind him. Otherwise, how could one person be this fast?

Ding Zhong was afraid.

Li He's lonely silhouette swayed gently under the moonlight, his unique voice piercing straight into the listeners' hearts.

"Dammit, I kneel!"

"Where is my girl?"

"I'm crying because I lost my girl from the South."

"I'm a Northern boy, I want to go South and try. Teacher Jia Bei told me the girls in the South are soft, like water."

"Because of this song, it ignited my yearning for the South. I'm going next year, hoping to meet a Southern girl like the one in the lyrics."

"This song is slow, but also fast."

"Ding Zhong, hurry up and learn. You actually dared to challenge Teacher Jia Bei? Who gave you the courage?"

"I’m kneeling. Don't ask me why, just know Jia Bei is awesome!"

"Although *The Ordinary Road* was great, I find I like this *Southern Girl* even more, because I am a Southern girl."

"This song is invincible."

"I knew it wasn't simple from the guitar solo at the start. The moment he opened his mouth, my heart just knelt. This is definitely one of the best songs of August."

"Folk music is for quiet listening, but I can't calm down anymore."

"..."

Comments flooded the screen. Everyone was discussing and expressing their feelings. Folk music easily walked into people's hearts and peered inside. It was also perfect for sharing—you have the story, I have the wine; I'm here to listen to your voice.

Jia Bei’s fans were crazily sinking into the music. Jiang Qi’s fans kept posting, while the He siblings’ fans kept competing with them. They felt they were in the same camp, and their enemy was Jiang Qi, who was stealing songs meant for their idols.

In the courtyard, all the guests were shown on camera: the satisfied Xie Shun, Teacher He who was grinning from ear to ear, and Jiang You, who was obsessed like a fanboy. The scene flashed, and two guest stars appeared: the actor Xiang Li, who looked weak but was actually weak, and the "shameless" He Luoluo.

Quiet. Soothing. In the face of such a song, noise was a redundant burden; listening quietly was the best respect. At the same time, the viewers once again felt the terrifying nature of Jia Bei's singing skills and the plasticity of his voice. For *Southern Girl*, Li He used a raspy voice—not particularly deep, but perfect for this song.

It was tear-jerking. It easily touched people's tear ducts. Ding Zhong knelt on the spot; he felt it was necessary to change the singer for the September battle. If she faced Jia Bei, the chances of a crushing defeat were high. It was too terrifying.

At the same time, Yin Mengna was going crazy. Yes, as a fan of folk music, she was frantic. Jia Bei’s songwriting was just too good—different styles, but equally high quality. *Xiao Chou*, *Foam*, *Fate of a Bridge*, *The Ordinary Road*, *Southern Girl*... although not every song was suitable for her, Jia Bei’s style was so varied: folk, pop, national style, movie soundtracks—too many changes. Who could say for sure that Teacher Jia Bei couldn't write a song perfect for her?

"I must speed up the contract termination. I hope I can make it for the September battle." Yin Mengna felt the urgency. Time was running out. Otherwise, once she went to Shengshi Entertainment, the line of people waiting to sing songs written by Teacher Jia Bei would stretch from the Mushroom House to the city. She had to hurry.

During this, the shot of Xie Shun putting down his spatula successfully made many teary-eyed viewers laugh. Jia Bei was responsible for making the audience cry, while Xie Shun was responsible for making those who were crying laugh.

"Is Teacher Xie Shun's action of putting down the spatula for real?"

"Teacher Jia Bei successfully saved his life from under Teacher Xie Shun's spatula."

"Who is that handsome guy picking vegetables?"

"It's the 'shameless' one, he’s on the list of guest stars."

"Holy crap, the 'shameless' one is so handsome!"

"Xiang Li seems to be from the South, she's from Fujian."

"Did Teacher Jia Bei get the inspiration for this song on the spot after seeing Xiang Li?"

"To the one above, you've discovered the truth."

"Teacher Jia Bei is awesome!"

"..."

People kept tagging Ding Zhong, but he didn't respond—and he couldn't. Jia Bei’s fanbase was slowly growing. The camera pulled back, the frame expanding rapidly to show the entire courtyard. Sharp-eyed viewers noticed that the stove behind Xie Shun still had a fire burning!

Li He began to walk slowly, wandering back and forth. Then, he came to Xiang Li, who was from Fujian, and sang the line, "Southern girl, have you grown accustomed to the chill of the North?" The idol drama filter appeared again.

"What's going on?"

"Holy crap, is this frame implying something?"

"The show team is up to something. This filter is too misleading."

"The post-production team for this video must be poisoned; this filter has appeared several times now."

"No, Teacher Jia Bei's official match is He Luoluo."

"Bullshit, it's the He siblings."

"To the one above, you really know how to play."

The four fanbases were all unsettled. With that filter, the scene was problematic. But they could only worry; all they could do was look forward to the second episode. It had to be said that this move had directly maxed out the viewers' expectations for the second episode. Li He watched this melodramatic scene with a blank expression, while He Luo was laughing his head off nearby.

The frame expanded again. "Southern girl, did the high-rises block your hope?" In the picture, mountain after mountain rose and fell under the moonlight.

The song ended. The courtyard went quiet. The viewers in front of their phones also went quiet.