In the blink of an eye, seven days had passed.
Early morning.
Fang Qiu was up at the crack of dawn.
Not because her sleep schedule had finally sorted itself out — it was simply because ten days of writing day and night without rest had thrown her rhythm so completely out of whack that, by some miracle, it had looped back around to normal.
This was a lesson she had learned from her past life's late-night writing sessions: if you went to sleep one hour later than the day before, every single day, your schedule would briefly return to something resembling normal every once in a while.
And today happened to be one of those days.
Fang Qiu changed clothes quickly, tidied herself up, then prepared breakfast for Tingyu.
After that, she turned her gaze toward the manuscript of 5 Centimeters Per Second lying quietly on the desk.
And then, she couldn't help but sink into a deep, deep contemplation.
A short novel in seven days.
Was she... going a bit overboard with the grind?
At this rate, her workload was almost on par with Lady Ganyu and Lady Keqing's, wasn't it?
Hmm...
Actually, no. That wasn't quite right.
She had taken a full five or six days off before writing this book. Averaged out, the workload wasn't really all that much.
Besides, in her past life there had been authors who were practically inhuman — people who could pump out over a hundred thousand characters in a single day.
When Fang Qiu first heard that, she had spiraled through a full existential crisis. She suspected those authors were using AI writing tools. Then she suspected they were alien lifeforms hiding among humans — beings with a dozen tentacles who could type on ten keyboards simultaneously.
And honestly? The math checked out. A hundred thousand characters in a day meant, even if you didn't eat, drink, or sleep for all twenty-four hours — you'd still need to write seventy characters per minute. Four thousand characters per hour.
Just their average speed alone was more than enough to make someone like her — who barely managed a thousand characters an hour — look completely pathetic by comparison.
"Lazy cat."
Fang Qiu shot a look at Tingyu, who was fast asleep and snoring away, muttered those two words in fond exasperation, then tucked the manuscript under her arm, locked the door behind her, and headed out.
The weather in Liyue Harbor that day was not particularly pleasant.
The sky was blanketed in dark, heavy clouds.
Even so, there was no shortage of people on the streets.
Fang Qiu ate a simple bowl of plain noodles at a roadside stall, then made her way toward Liyue Publishing House.
Along the way, she overheard quite a few people chatting about the upcoming Rite of Descension — or rather, the Liyue festival that followed it — and the topic caught her attention.
"The Lunar Festival is coming up soon, isn't it," Fang Qiu murmured to herself.
She did have some memory of it. The Lunar Festival was one of Liyue's traditional celebrations. Legend had it that thousands of years ago, the Adepti would use this season to seek enlightenment and ask questions of the Way.
But as time passed and the world changed, the festival had evolved into something far more festive. People would eat all manner of delicious foods, visit family and friends, admire the moon, enjoy the flowers, and so on.
It was somewhat similar to the Mid-Autumn Festival from her past life.
In that case — she should make plans to gather Hu Tao, Xiangling, and the others to eat mooncakes together, admire the flowers, gaze at the moon, and soak in all the flavors of autumn.
The scent of food in the crisp autumn air.
The thought made Fang Qiu smile softly to herself. She walked on, and before long she arrived at Liyue Publishing House.
By the time she ambled in at her leisurely pace, it was already around ten in the morning.
The sky was still overcast and grey.
The moment she pushed open the door to the editorial office, a wave of noise washed over her.
Straight ahead, two veteran authors were sitting in the lounge area. Each held a book in hand, and they were in the middle of explaining the craft of writing to a new author.
"How many times do we have to say it — you can't write a novel like this. First you do it this way, then you do it this way, then you do it this way, and finally you do it this way. Do you understand now?"
"Uh... no."
"Maybe I should take a crack at explaining it to him?"
"Oh, come off it — your ability to explain things is even worse than mine."
"Right, right. So you can't write it like that — you have to write it this way first, and then you write it this way. Got it?"
Looking at the new author's completely blank, utterly lost expression, the two veterans simultaneously pressed their hands to their foreheads and let out a synchronized sigh. "He still doesn't get it."
Fang Qiu, meanwhile, noticed that the book one of the veteran authors had pulled out as an example was none other than her own Your Lie in April.
She couldn't help but smile in a slightly awkward, embarrassed sort of way.
Her arrival drew the attention of several editors in the office, and Fang Qiu returned each of their glances with a smile.
But when she drew near Bai Qing's desk, she saw that someone was already standing there.
"This person... looks awfully familiar."
The girl standing before Bai Qing's desk had a slender, delicate silhouette. She wore an outfit that was primarily dark navy and black — something like a cheongsam or a long coat, though it didn't quite fit either description exactly. Her hair was cut short, just level with her ears. There was something refined and somewhat fragile about the way she stood with her back turned.
Fang Qiu blinked — and then it clicked.
"It's her?"
It was the girl she had run into on that day when she came to Liyue Publishing House to submit the manuscript of Your Name.
Yes... the girl with absolutely zero self-consciousness, who had stretched with reckless abandon in the full light of day.
Thank goodness no one else had been around to see that.
Though she had already known this girl was an author of some kind — after all, she had also been coming out of Liyue Publishing House that day, and had even mentioned something about submitting the next installment — what genuinely surprised Fang Qiu was that this girl turned out to be one of Bai Qing's authors. Just like herself.
The girl was in the middle of handing over a manuscript to Bai Qing.
Fang Qiu found herself growing curious. What kind of book did this girl write? Given all that bookish, literary energy she radiated, it was probably something artistic and refined. Something quiet and delicate.
She smiled and walked over.
Bai Qing had taken the manuscript from the girl and was scanning its contents with a slight frown, speaking to her at the same time.
"Good morning, Sister Bai."
Waiting for a pause in Bai Qing's conversation with the girl, Fang Qiu offered a cheerful greeting.
"Good morning."
Bai Qing's furrowed brow instantly relaxed. She looked at the manuscript in Fang Qiu's hands, and her eyes lit up with a smile. "Is this a new book?"
"Mm."
Fang Qiu nodded, stepped forward, and handed the manuscript to Bai Qing.
At that moment, the girl turned to look at Fang Qiu.
Fang Qiu turned to look at her, too.
Yep. Definitely that girl.
"It's you?"
The girl blinked, startled — and then recognition crossed her face.
"Good morning."
Fang Qiu smiled and offered a greeting.
"Good morning to you, miss."
The girl paused for a beat, then returned the courtesy politely.
"You two know each other?"
Bai Qing blinked, caught off guard by the exchange between Fang Qiu and Xingqiu, then spoke up.
"We've crossed paths once before," Xingqiu said, giving a small nod.
"Mm," Fang Qiu agreed.
"If you two already know each other, why did you both ask me to make an introduction?" Bai Qing said, her expression shifting into something thoroughly baffled.
"What do you mean?" Fang Qiu froze.
She instinctively glanced down at the manuscript lying on Bai Qing's desk. The one Bai Qing had just taken from the girl — still unopened, exactly as it had been handed over.
On its cover, the title read: A Legend of Sword.
The instant Fang Qiu saw that title — and put it together with what Bai Qing had just said — her mind went momentarily blank.
She turned her head instinctively toward the girl standing beside her — spirited, striking-featured, looking back at her with an equally puzzled expression — and Fang Qiu couldn't help but swallow hard.
Her voice came out halting and uncertain as she finally asked:
"Your name — what is it?"
____
________________________________________
🌸 Help Love Bloom!
Our girls need a little push... and you can help!
💖 Gift for Everyone: Once we hit 50 Powerstones, I'll release +1 bonus chapter to warm your hearts.
🚀 Community Reward: If we reach 20 supporting members, we'll have a +5 chapter marathon across all stories! The romance won't stop.
👻 Come to our secret corner: Search for GirlsLove on (P). You know that's where the magic happens... 😉