The day after the accident, Jian Jing was discharged from the hospital in the afternoon. Her body had recovered well enough that she didn't want to stay in the hospital for one more day. Kang Mu Cheng came to pick her up, and asked about what had happened last night.
"I got a call from the hospital this morning before I knew about your 'great achievement' yesterday," Kang Mu Cheng said. "If it wasn't for the hospital asking to keep it low-key, I would have found a reporter to do an interview and generate some buzz to sell your books."
Jian Jing held her forehead. "No need for the sarcasm. I didn't want to play hero either. If it was you, wouldn't you have done the same?"
Kang Mu Cheng wasn't actually blaming her. He was just worried that she might be suicidal again, so he spoke to test her reaction. Hearing her response, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his shoulders. "Why not stay at the hospital for a couple more days? They waived all your fees. Why rush to leave?"
"Trauma," she said honestly.
Kang Mu Cheng fell silent.
Jian Jing rolled down the car window for some fresh air, and took the chance to look around this parallel world.
To be honest, the differences between the two worlds were negligible. The level of technological development was similar, and people's lifestyles were no different either. The biggest difference was probably the celebrities on the billboards, many of whom she didn't recognize.
There were also physical bookstores that hadn't gone out of business. On the contrary, they had stores in high traffic areas, displaying new releases outside.
She even saw her own name.
"New work from the beautiful writer Jian Jing, 'Demon Doctor' walks the earth, good or evil, separated only by a thought."
Seeing a banner like this made her feel embarrassed.
"It looks like you've really changed this time," Kang Mu Cheng said abruptly.
Jian Jing played it cool. "What do you mean?"
"In the past, you would have asked about the sales numbers these two days." A faint smile lined Kang Mu Cheng's lips. "But you didn't ask at all today."
Jian Jing said, "I forgot."
"You should forget after you finish writing." Kang Mu Cheng nodded slightly. "Whether it sells well or not actually has nothing to do with you. If you write to make big sales, the work will definitely not be great."
Jian Jing was curious and asked, "Why?"
"Writing is the author's self-revelation, a spiritual confessional. It is absolute self-expression. Abandoning your own wishes to cater to readers, there will always be a disconnect." Kang Mu Cheng spoke meaningfully. "Excellent works are a confession between one soul and another, as well as a game. You can only compel them to praise you by compelling them."
Jian Jing was surprised. "I thought the market's tastes were very important to you."
"Some publishing houses just want to make money. They don't mind pandering to readers, like Morning Star. The books they've published in the past two years have sold quite well. Things like the queen of romance novels, sweetest works, novels every girl should read. I don't deny their sales figures, but unfortunately, making products and building brands are not the same thing."
Kang Mu Cheng couldn't conceal his disdain for his enemy. "Making products is about pleasing consumers and meeting their needs. But building a brand is about leading consumers and making them need you."
He glanced at Jian Jing with a slight smile. "As you can see, Golden Crow's annual top book list has already become the default buying list for many readers these past few years. Do they look at Morning Star's list? No, never."
Jian Jing had to smile. "I see."
"See what?"
"That you're very ambitious," she said.
"Isn't it passion?" Kang Mu Cheng raised an eyebrow.
Jian Jing said, "My intuition tells me it's not."
"A writer's intuition..." He gently patted the steering wheel and laughed. "Very accurate."
The atmosphere suddenly became light and cheerful.
Kang Mu Cheng took the initiative to talk about work arrangements. "The sales channels for 'Demon Doctor' have all been laid out, and the promotions are in place. After your news blows over, I'll arrange for you to do a reading."
"These next few days, just rest well and get into the zone."
"Does me going to the hospital have a big negative impact?" she asked.
"Can't say." Kang Mu Cheng brushed it off. "The publisher already released a statement that you didn't try to commit suicide from being unable to withstand criticism―Jingjing, remember, readers don't like authors who are so fragile. They like authors with personality―it was an accident caused by trying to verify the methods in 'Demon Doctor'."
Jian Jing: "......"
"Now quite a few readers have developed an interest in 'Demon Doctor'." Kang Mu Cheng glanced at her. "Morning Star will definitely find people to say you're sensationalizing. Don't accept any reporter interviews, understand?"
"I understand." She promised.
The publishing industry in this world was too mature. Under huge commercial interests, the waters ran deep. Authors were just one link in the industry chain, unable to stand alone.
"Good girl."
*
Kang Mu Cheng's schedule was packed. After dropping Jian Jing off at the residential complex, he hurriedly left for a meeting.
This also gave Jian Jing time to familiarize herself with the environment. The complex she lived in was very upscale. The security guards were young and handsome, all dressed in black uniforms, and they had a German Shepherd. Seeing her, it ran over to rub against her legs.
"Ms. Jian just got back?" The security guard greeted her with a smile. "Knight rushes over whenever he sees you. Can't hold him back."
"Mm." Jian Jing wasn't surprised that she had a good relationship with building management. Girls living alone were always very careful. "Did you miss me, Knight?"
The German Shepherd named Knight wagged its tail wildly.
Jian Jing petted it several times before saying goodbye to the patrol guards and heading upstairs.
She lived on the 18th floor, two units per floor, duplex structure.
The first floor had the dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom and a guest bedroom. The second floor had the master bedroom and study, about 200 square meters total, more than enough room for one person.
Most importantly, the apartment was purchased in full.
The first thing Jian Jing did when she got home was to check her ID, bank books, and cards. Everything matched her memories. For real estate, other than this home, she also had a small rental apartment that brought in about 6,000 a month for pocket money.
Most of her savings were managed by a professional fund manager who was Kang Mu Cheng's former classmate. He made 50 to 60 thousand for her each year.
It has to be said again―writers in this world really made a lot of money!
Jian Jing couldn't be considered a true bestselling author, but she already had no worries about food and shelter. Let alone other famous writers, living in villas and driving sports cars was perfectly normal.
She was happy for less than three minutes before her earlier doubts floated to the surface again: With such good living conditions, why did the System say she was incapable of living independently?
She didn't understand.
Next, she checked the bedroom and bathroom to confirm there was no intimate partner, whether in a proper relationship or not.
In short, there was none.
The next stop was the study.
Beside the bookshelves, there was a glass cabinet with cigarettes, alcohol, and a coffee machine.
Nicotine, alcohol, caffeine. None were missing.
It seemed a writer's stress was quite high.
Jian Jing threw away the cigarettes. Smoking was bad for health and she couldn't keep touching it. The alcohol and coffee machine were fine though.
She made herself a cup of espresso, picked up the brand new "Demon Doctor", and sat by the window to skim through this new work while sipping her drink.
The male lead was a young doctor in a big city. His days were spent going to work, seeing patients, living an ordinary life no different from common people. However, he wasn't human, but rather a monster that was neither ghost nor man.
He had no heart.
Every month he had to eat a heart, otherwise he would weaken until falling into a deep slumber. But not just anyone's heart would do. It had to be the heart of an evildoer. If he swallowed a kind heart, it was like ingesting poison - a fate worse than death.
For this reason, the doctor became a hunter stalking the darkness of night, specifically targeting the cruel and wicked.
He saved people during the day, and killed people at night.
He caught evildoers and put them to death.
It had to be said, this premise was somewhat cliche. There were far too many non-human protagonists like this, and readers were experiencing aesthetic fatigue. It couldn't be called boring though.
The story had some unusual highlights.
First was the male lead's character design. His killings were not for the sake of justice, completely different from the typical killer who thought they were dealing righteous judgment. He didn't care about right or wrong at all. He was forced.
And the reason he became a doctor wasn't to save lives either. In his eyes, patching up human bodies was like repairing an exquisite doll. It was art.
Secondly, because the male lead didn't care about good or evil, he also couldn't judge good or evil.
In the second story, the male lead killed a woman in red who was committing murders on a rainy night, thinking she was a serial killer. But after swallowing her heart, his whole body felt as if on fire, in unbearable pain.
That woman had a kind heart. She killed not out of evil, but to avenge her younger sister.
The story was in third person, but all from the male lead's perspective. Readers could only follow his viewpoint, and guessing the "prey's" good or evil from subtle clues became a very interesting game.
What the eyes saw was not necessarily the truth.
So-called evil could be good, and so-called good could be evil.
Jian Jing honestly felt that this book she "wrote" was quite good.
If anyone dared to scold her for being past her prime, she'd tell them to come write one themselves.
She finished the glass of red wine in one go, and let out a satisfied breath before going to bed.
The mattress was medium soft and firm, the pillow height just right. Jian Jing fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, only hearing a few shrill sirens in her dreams, but they soon weakened and she turned over to sink into deep sleep again.
The next day, the weather was sunny and breezy - perfect.
After washing up, Jian Jing pulled open the curtains. She suddenly noticed large pools of water outside, and streaks of black on the building stairs across from her. Many people were gathered below, pointing and discussing.
Based on her many years of experience watching from the sidelines, something must have happened.
She opened her phone and sure enough, the building's group chat had sent out a notice:
[Dear residents, at around 1:30 am last night, there was a fire at unit 1302, Building 5. The fire department came promptly to put out the flames and there were no casualties.]
Scrolling down, someone asked about the cause of the fire.
[15-1401: I heard someone started it on purpose......]
[09-0801: Really? Why would anyone start a fire?]
[05-1002: It's true, I was scared to death last night. The police came later too.]
[16-0802: My cousin at the police station said it was someone getting revenge on purpose.]
Jian Jing: [Old man on subway looking at phone.JPG]
Going to someone's home to start a fire on purpose? What vendetta was this? She shook her head inwardly, and didn't dwell on it. Instead, she opened her news feed.
[XX's new album goes online, exceeds 100 million plays in 12 hours]
[Police issue wanted notice, jewellery store robbers XXX and others still at large, 50,000 reward offered]
[Explosion at abandoned factory, 7 students trapped, emergency rescue by fire department underway]
Jian Jing stared at the news headlines for a good while, feeling something was off.
Was it an information cocoon? She seemed to rarely see so many... dangerous news items before.
Counting her rebirth suicide as a death, getting admitted to the hospital after a stabbing, and someone deliberately setting fire in the building next door the day she returned home... She shivered, goosebumps rising.
