"Clap, clap, clap…"
The one who started the applause wasn't Su Jingru, but the other students participating in the recitation competition.
"Zhang Huiping, that was an amazing recitation."
"Yeah, what's the name of that essay again? I've never read it before."
"'Yellow and green dominate endlessly…' I can still remember that line. It's so evocative."
Several girls spoke up excitedly.
"Mm, Zhang Huiping, that was indeed very well done."
Su Jingru nodded as well. "But the piece you registered for earlier wasn't this essay, was it?"
Holding the two pages titled 'Ode to the White Poplar,' she voiced the question that had been on her mind.
"I'm sorry, Teacher Su. I changed my piece at the last minute."
Zhang Huiping said apologetically.
"It's fine. This essay is excellent; you made the right choice. May I ask, who wrote it?"
"Well…"
Zhang Huiping shook her head and apologized again. "Teacher Su, it was written by someone very, very talented, but I can't reveal their name."
"Oh…"
Seeing this, Su Jingru didn't press further. "That's alright, I was just curious. Go ahead and use this piece for the competition. I believe once you perform it, it will amaze many people."
"Thank you, Teacher Su."
"You're welcome. Let's continue."
Gently setting down Zhang Huiping's script, Su Jingru prepared to resume practice.
But as she did, a thought suddenly crossed her mind.
"How strange… this handwriting feels familiar."
Picking up the script again, she began to recall.
This essay clearly wasn't written by Zhang Huiping; she taught her Chinese and knew her handwriting well. But if it wasn't Zhang Huiping's, why did it seem so familiar? It felt like she had seen it somewhere before, yet she couldn't remember where.
Forget it. I'll think about it later.
Not dwelling on it further, Su Jingru turned her focus back to the rehearsal.
…
"Where do I come from? No one knows. Where am I going? No one understands!" Jiang Yanrong lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. All day, she had neither eaten nor drunk anything. Her mind was empty, drifting in a haze…"
'Outside the Window' tells the story of Qiong Yao's youth.
In truth, Huang Yifan didn't particularly like Qiong Yao's works after all; he preferred authors like Jin Yong and Gu Long. However, he deeply respected her achievements. So, regardless of personal preference, he quickly typed out the first ten thousand words of her debut novel, 'Outside the Window.'
Although he had confidence in Qiong Yao's work, times were different, and so was this world. Whether readers here would fully accept her writing was something Huang Yifan couldn't be completely certain about.
Logging into TT, he sent a message to Hongdou: "Hongdou, are you there? I've written a youth novel called 'Outside the Window.' Take a look. If you think it's good, publish it. If not, don't force it."
"Got it."
Hongdou replied quickly. "I'll read it right away."
About ten minutes later, Hongdou sent back a shocked emoji.
"Fanchen, did you really write this?"
"Yeah, what's wrong?"
"Don't tell me you're actually a woman."
"…No, I'm a man."
"Then how did you write a female protagonist so well?"
"Well… can't men write female protagonists?"
"They can, but… how do I put this, Fanchen… just tell me honestly, did you hire a ghostwriter?"
"No way. Why would I do something like that?"
Huang Yifan felt like crying.
But considering he had written 'A Chinese Ghost Story' before and now suddenly produced something in Qiong Yao's style, the suspicion was understandable.
"Alright, I'll believe you. But can you let me analyze your work a bit?"
"Of course. Isn't that what editors are for? What, afraid to give me criticism?"
"I'm just worried you'll run off to another publisher if you hear something negative. There are too many sensitive authors these days. It's tough being an editor."
"Haha, sounds like editors have it rough, too. Don't worry, I'm not like that. Say whatever you want, I can take it."
"Seems like you're quite open-minded. Alright, then I'll say it."
"Go ahead."
Huang Yifan listened attentively.
He came from the web novel scene, basically raised on criticism. There was no way editorial feedback would scare him off.
"To be honest, Fanchen, your 'Outside the Window' is very well written. Your prose is excellent, better than Guo Cheng's and Han Jin's. If your goal is simply publication, there's no problem at all. I don't even need approval from above; I can greenlight this myself. And I believe it would sell quite well after release."
"So you like it, but it sounds like you still have some advice?"
"Exactly. If it were an ordinary author, I'd publish it immediately with no suggestions. But Fanchen, why did you write this piece?"
"You said youth literature sells well. Supernatural fiction is too niche. And besides, I don't like Guo Cheng and Han Jin. I want to compete with them. Let's see whose books sell better."
"Wait… you wrote this just for that?"
Hongdou sent three exclamation marks, clearly shocked.
"Yeah. Don't you think that's a pretty creative idea?"
"Creative my foot. Fanchen, if you want to compete with them, you don't have to do it in youth literature. You can challenge them in another genre."
"What genre? Don't tell me to go back to supernatural."
"No, no. Not supernatural. Write historical romance, ancient romance."
"Historical romance?"
"Exactly. You already have experience writing ancient supernatural stories. And in 'A Chinese Ghost Story,' I noticed you're very skilled at writing romantic relationships, love triangles, emotional conflicts… you've made readers suffer plenty already. If you strip away the supernatural elements and focus purely on romance, I believe you'll do exceptionally well."
"But historical romance can't really compete with Guo Cheng and Han Jin, right? And it's still kind of niche."
"That's just how it seems. Youth literature may be hot right now, but it's unstable; it could fade at any time. With the rise of web novels, younger readers are already shifting away. Whether they'll continue buying youth literature in the future is uncertain. On the other hand, romance, both modern and historical, has always been one of the best-selling genres in publishing. The reason it's quiet now is simply that there haven't been any standout works lately."
Hearing this, Huang Yifan nodded.
Based on his past-life experience, it was true that web novels had severely impacted youth literature.
Authors like Guo Jingming and Han Han gradually faded from the spotlight. Aside from branching into film and other pursuits, the decline of youth literature was a major factor.
"And another thing, Fanchen. Among book buyers, adults actually have the strongest purchasing power. They may not buy often, but once they find something they like, their spending can be huge."
"So you're saying romance has more potential than youth literature?"
Huang Yifan summarized.
"Absolutely, provided you can write a good one. And Fanchen, you have that ability. I really believe in you."
"Wait… let me think."
Huang Yifan's mind grew a bit chaotic.
He had just been ready to bring out Qiong Yao's work, and now Hongdou was suggesting a different direction. Not that he didn't approve, it was just that he saw something more suitable.
Romance.
And specifically, historical romance.
What works even fits that category? He couldn't recall many at first…
Just as he was struggling, a flood of ideas suddenly surged into his mind.
'The Romance of the Western Chamber,' 'The Peony Pavilion,' 'Jin Ping Mei,' 'Butterfly Lovers,' 'The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl'…
Damn, that's a huge pool to draw from.
Huang Yifan felt like he was about to drool.
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