It has been exactly ten days since this book was published.
On the first day of publication, the book's performance could be described as abysmal, and the author almost gave up.
But on the second day, many fellow cultivators showed their support.
There were many flowers, and also evaluation votes.
This little brother can only do his best to grind away, striving to update more to repay everyone.
Without the support of fellow cultivators' flowers and evaluation votes, this book wouldn't have its current performance. Here, the author bows deeply in gratitude to everyone!
As we approach the subscription period, my heart is always filled with anxiety. After all, I am a full-time author, and I need to make a living.
To be honest, I'm really afraid that this book will flop.
Just like two years ago when I first entered this line of work.
Back then, my girlfriend and I had a great relationship, but my salary was low. As a struggling author, I only made less than two thousand yuan a month.
Although the money was little, our lives were full of joy.
But then...
As human beings, there are social obligations. Girlfriend's best friends, and so on, there are always times when you need to treat them to dinner.
But during one dinner with my girlfriend's best friend... Her best friend (my girlfriend) met with me privately and said very frankly... My work has no future. What am I going to do if this continues? What will her best friend (my girlfriend) do?!
A struggling author, with one book and no guarantee of another, might flop at any time, and there's no security in life. It's very easy for people to criticize this.
I also understand what two thousand yuan a month means.
Especially for me in this first-tier city.
That day, my girlfriend went to her best friend's house to sleep. I returned to my rented apartment alone...
I didn't know what Los Angeles looked like at 4 am, but I saw Chang'an at 4 am for the first time that day.
Truly, society is very realistic.
Originally, I also thought I would be like the protagonists in those fantasy novels I read in my youth - Thirty years in the east, thirty years in the west. Why should they tell me what to do?
But I took a moment to look at myself.
My pathetic little apartment.
My pathetic struggling author's salary.
Plus, my body, with its cervical spondylosis and lumbar spondylosis, from sitting in front of the computer and typing.
Yes, why?
My girlfriend came back the next day. She was there to pack her things.
I was calm. I smiled and saw her off.
Two years have passed.
Since then.
I haven't contacted my girlfriend in two years.
But I don't blame my girlfriend's best friend.
After all...
She's my wife now!
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The story may be fictional.
But the feelings are similar.
Subscription starts tonight at twelve. I beg fellow cultivators for one first-time subscription and one auto-subscription!
Six chapters have already been completed during the day, and I'll definitely squeeze out four more chapters tonight!
This little brother feels he's quite diligent. As long as the performance is enough to keep a struggling author fed, I'll explode with updates every day!
At least seven or eight chapters, if you provoke me, it'll be ten chapters!
So, fellow cultivators, give a first-time subscription, give an auto-subscription (tearfully begs!)
Finally, let's share a poem the author really likes.
【Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River】
Two Han Dynasties: Cao Zhi
In the third year of the Huangchu era, I returned to the capital city after a visit to the Eastern fiefdom, and crossed the Luo River. Ancient sayings state: The deity of this river is named Mi Fei. Inspired by Song Yu's account of the divine maiden for the King of Chu, I have composed this ode. The words are as follows:
I departed from the imperial city, returning to the eastern fiefdom, leaving behind the Yique Pass, passing over the Rongyuan Ridge, journeying through the Tong Valley, and climbing the scenic Mount Jing. The sun was already setting in the west, the horses were weary, and the carriage creaked. And so, I halted the chariot by the fragrant bank, fed the steeds in the grassy fields, wandered leisurely through the sunny grove, and cast my gaze upon the Luo River. At that moment, my spirit was stirred and my mind was filled with wonder, and suddenly, my thoughts scattered. Looking down, I saw nothing unusual, but looking up, I beheld a sight unlike any other. I saw a beautiful woman by the side of the cliff. I called to the driver and asked, "Have you ever seen anyone like her? Who is this woman, so radiant?" The driver replied, "I have heard that the deity of the Luo River is named Mi Fei. Perhaps the one you see is she! What does she look like? I would like to hear about it."
I told him, "Her form is like a startled wild goose in flight, graceful like a playful dragon. Her brilliance rivals autumn chrysanthemums, her beauty matches the flourishing spring pines. Her form seems like a light cloud obscuring the moon, her movements like a gentle breeze swirling through the snow. From afar, she appears as bright as the sun rising in the morning mist; when you approach, she is as radiant as a lotus emerging from the clear water. Her slender frame is perfectly proportioned, her height just right. Her shoulders are as if sculpted, her waist as if tied with silk. Her neck is long and graceful, her fair skin shining through. Her beauty is unsurpassed, untouched by cosmetics. Her hair is piled high, her brows long and arched. Her lips are crimson and full, her teeth white and even. Her eyes are bright and captivating, her cheeks are plump and dimpled. Her beauty is rare and graceful, her bearing calm and composed. Her demeanor is tender and charming, her voice seductive. Her clothes are unique, her figure matches the ancient portraits. She wears shimmering silk robes, adorned with jade and green pendants. Golden and emerald ornaments crown her head, bright pearls decorate her body. She wears fine silk shoes, her skirt flows like mist. The faint fragrance of orchids wafts around her, she steps cautiously along the mountainside. Then, suddenly, she casts aside all constraints and begins to frolic and play. To her left are banners of colored feathers, to her right are banners of fragrant cinnamon. She reaches out her fair arm to the sacred shore, gathers black orchids by the rushing stream.
My heart is filled with delight at her beauty, my spirit is stirred and restless. There is no proper intermediary to convey my love, I must rely on the gentle waves to carry my message. I wish to send a messenger with pure intentions, to offer a jade pendant as a token. Alas, this beautiful woman is of noble lineage, well-versed in etiquette and poetry. She accepts my jade pendant, and agrees to meet. I hold fast to this bond, fearing that this divine being may deceive me. I remember the abandoned promises of Jiao Fu, I hesitate and am filled with doubt. I calm my heart and steady my mind, reaffirming my manners and self-control.
Then, the deity of the Luo River, moved by my sincerity, begins to pace and wander. Her divine light flickers and fades, shifting between darkness and light. She stands tall and graceful, like a crane about to take flight. She treads on the fragrant path, her footsteps leaving behind a sweet scent. She sings a long and mournful song, her voice is sad and prolonged. Then, many spirits gather around, beckoning their companions to join them. Some play in the clear stream, some soar above the divine waters, some gather bright pearls, some collect jade feathers. The two wives from the South Xiang Mountains arrive, accompanied by the playful women of the Han River. They lament the lonely gourd, sing about the lonely cowherd. They raise their light skirts, they shield themselves with long sleeves. They move swiftly like flying ducks, ethereal like the gods. They take delicate steps on the water, their silk shoes stir up the dust. Their movements are unpredictable, at once dangerous and safe; their approach and retreat are uncertain, like going and returning. Their eyes dart about, their faces radiant as jade. They speak in whispers, their breath sweet as orchids. Their beauty is captivating, it makes me forget to eat.
Then, the wind subsides and the waves of the river calm. Feng Yi beats his drums, Nu Wa sings her clear song. The patterned fish leap to announce the arrival of the chariot, the jade-trimmed carriage bells chime as we depart. The six dragons draw the chariot in unison, carrying the divine maiden within. Whales and sharks leap and flank the chariot, water birds soar overhead as a guard. Then, we cross the northern bank, pass the southern hill, she straightens her silk collar, her voice rings out clear. She parts her crimson lips and speaks slowly, laying out the grand plan. She mourns that the paths of humans and gods are different, regrets that our golden years are fleeting. She covers her face with her silken sleeves and weeps, her tears flow freely down her gown. She grieves for our eternal separation, laments that we are forever parted by distance. There is no way to express my love for her, I offer her a bright jade pendant from Jiangnan. Though she is hidden in the depths of the moon's shadow, she sends her heart to the king. She suddenly realizes what she has lost, her divine radiance is obscured by the darkness of night.
Then, she turns her back on the hill, her feet tread the divine path. Her thoughts are filled with images of her, she gazes back with longing and sorrow. She hopes that her divine form will reappear, she will board a light boat and journey upstream. She floats along the great river, forgetting to return, her thoughts filled with her, her longing grows. The night is long and sleepless, she is covered with frost until dawn. She orders her driver to prepare the chariot, she will return to the eastern road. She grasps the reins and pulls the whip, she hesitates and cannot leave.
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