WP Chapter 6

Si Shaorong returned to the place he was currently renting. The man he lived with hadn’t come back yet. The kitchen was filled with the scent of freshly cooked food. He paused at the entryway, frowning as he changed his shoes, then walked straight into his room.

Not long after, someone knocked on the door.

“Rong-ge? You’re back?” It was a pleasant female voice.

Si Shaorong responded with a quiet “Mm.” He turned on his computer and picked up his headphones. “I’m busy. Don’t knock on my door unless it’s something important.”

The woman hesitated for a moment, then laughed softly. “Well, no matter how busy you are, you still have to eat. I made dinner. Want to eat together?”

Si Shaorong showed no hint of gentleness. His tone was cold. “No. I’ve already eaten.”

It wasn’t even nine yet. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going before leaving. Those who knew him were aware that he rarely socialized or attended gatherings. The woman outside assumed he had just gone out for a walk and come back.

Si Shaorong often ate at irregular hours, so it wasn’t anything unusual.

“You’ve eaten?” Her voice rose slightly. “How come? I even made your favorite dishes… Want me to slice up some fruit for you instead? Rong-ge?”

Si Shaorong had already put on his headphones. He turned on some music and completely tuned her out.

The woman’s name was Qin Cheng. She had just graduated from university and hadn’t found a job yet. Her major was logistics, but she hadn’t landed a position in that field, and it seemed she wasn’t really trying to either.

She was the current girlfriend of He Jia, Si Shaorong’s current housemate. He was the same age as Si Shaorong, both of them twenty-eight, right on the edge of turning thirty. In the eyes of the older generation, that was no longer considered young. He Jia was also a web author. Although he wasn’t as well-known as Si Shaorong, he could just about support himself. The two didn’t write on the same platform, but they got along decently.

He Jia was a typical family-oriented Cancer type, gentle and attentive, and very good to his girlfriend. Before dating Qin Cheng, most of his care and attention had been directed toward his housemate, Si Shaorong. He had been an ideal roommate and friend in every sense.

But once he started dating, He Jia completely changed.

Si Shaorong had always disliked changes to things he had already grown used to, including moving house. If not for the falling out between him and He Jia, he wouldn’t have considered finding a new roommate at all.

After sitting down at his desk and calming his mind, Si Shaorong quickly returned to writing his outline. Under Zhen Zhen’s strong encouragement, he had originally planned to write a short, urban romance suitable for publishing or adapting into a drama. But once he started working on the outline, his imagination kept expanding. In the end, it had morphed from a “modern romance” into a “fantasy romance adventure.”

After finishing the background setting for the fifth supporting character, he paused, then changed the planned word count from around 300,000 to 500,000. That adjustment immediately added a new pile of reference material he now needed to research.

“Tomb raiding won’t work,” his editor said, after skimming through the outline. “That genre gets criticized too easily these days. There are already one or two big hits in that category. Jumping on the trend right now isn’t a good idea. You get what I mean, right? Just the other day, there was an argument on Weibo over the difference between archaeology and tomb raiding. This kind of story doesn’t win favor anymore.”

Si Shaorong had never cared about chasing trends. If he wanted to follow the hype, he would have done it years ago and already made it big.

He frowned slightly and sent back a voice message in response. “I think the genre fits perfectly. I’ve looked into burial structures in detail, and—”

“I get it,” the editor cut in, fully understanding his intention, but still rejected it. “We all know that creative freedom shouldn’t be restricted, but there still has to be a sense of social responsibility. This isn’t my personal opinion. It’s the standard set by mainstream platforms. Why do you think even a show like Pleasant Goat has to include a disclaimer warning viewers not to imitate it? Back when tomb raiding fiction was at its peak, you saw how many negative incidents came out of it.”

Si Shaorong frowned and didn’t say anything for a long time. After a while, the editor sent another voice message, trying to persuade him.

“Tomb raiding won’t work. There are other genres you can try. Just tweak the concept a bit… What do you think about aliens? I saw in the news yesterday that we picked up a radio signal from 1.5 billion light-years away. I think that could be a fun idea to expand on.”

Si Shaorong had no response.

He sent back a doge emoji and replied that he’d think about it, then set the phone aside.

He put on his headphones and started listening to ASMR. Uncle G, the bearded content creator, was combing his beard. Through the Beyerdynamic headset, the slow, textured scraping sound flowed in, soft and almost electric. The sound tingled from his ears to his brain, making his scalp prickle with a wave of calm.

He raised the volume a little. The tapping and brushing noises filled his ears as he tried to focus, thinking about how he could reshape this wildly imaginative romance story into a different kind of medicine.

To be honest, the editor’s alien idea wasn’t bad. He opened a few other folders where his outline drafts were stored and pulled up one he had shelved, an alien invasion story set in a post-apocalyptic world with a time-travel element. He had written that one two years ago but never fully developed it. Over the years, scattered ideas had gradually taken shape in his mind. It was an interesting experience. Except when he was asleep, his brain rarely stopped spinning with plots and possibilities.

He had another outline, one even older. Thinking back, it must have been five years ago. It was a horror-thriller. He had figured out both the beginning and the ending early on, but later grew dissatisfied with it and shelved it as well. Now, even those parts he had once been sure of no longer felt right. If he were to write it now, he would need to rework the entire structure from scratch.

People changed constantly, and so did the stories they wrote.

The readers changed too. Some people might stay with a story or an author for several years, while others would move on after a year or two. Because people’s thoughts shifted with their circumstances, a story they loved years ago might not appeal to them anymore when they returned to it later.

Si Shaorong slowly tapped at the keyboard. Suddenly, he thought of that young man with the curly hair and bright eyes.

Jiang Yibai.

Si Shaorong thought the name was quite easy to remember.

Most of the stories Jiang Yibai had discussed with him were from his earlier writing days. Maybe not ten years ago, but at least seven or eight.

Yet Jiang Yibai spoke about them with complete familiarity, down to the smallest details. It was clear he had read them more than three or four times.

That left quite an impression on Si Shaorong. His nature had always been calm and detached, as if all his passion and intensity belonged only to the words he wrote. Yet even so, he found himself genuinely moved. Jiang Yibai’s boldness and honesty had left a lasting mark on him.

While thinking about all this in a scattered way, Si Shaorong had already started researching the 1.5 billion light-year radio signal. He ended up reading about a few other things as well.

Earth had existed for 4.6 billion years and had gone through five major geological eras. Humans appeared in the fourth era as a single species without subspecies. One thing led to another, and he found a documentary about the Earth’s lithosphere. Before the day ended, he had written down a few more titles in his phone’s notes app. Planet Earth, Frozen Planet, and 7 Up from the Up Series.

A little after ten, Si Shaorong rubbed his eyes and took off his headphones, planning to rest for a moment. Just as he leaned back, he suddenly remembered he was meant to be revising the background setting for his romance outline.

Si Shaorong wrinkled his nose. That usually cool expression softened into a rather ordinary look of resignation as he stared at the open document.

Compared to Si Shaorong, who had poured all his focus and energy into writing, even if his outline had gone a little off track, Jiang Yibai, a part-time writer with no intention of going full-time, was busy worrying about something else entirely.

After Si Shaorong quietly left the gathering, many people assumed it was Jiang Yibai’s eccentric approach that had scared the master off. As a result, several of them gave Jiang Yibai unfriendly looks. But he didn’t care. For most, the gathering was a valuable space to network, exchange resources, and make connections. To him, it was just a circle of strangers with similar interests.

Once the master left, Jiang Yibai also lost interest. He wanted to find an excuse to leave too, but out of respect for Brother Zhao, who had gone out of his way to invite him, he stayed until a little past ten.

Zhou Yuanyuan had work the next day and said her goodbyes early. Jiang Yibai used the opportunity to offer to walk his best friend home, and that was how he made his exit.

Once outside, Zhou Yuanyuan rolled her eyes as she adjusted her bag. “You really embarrassed Zhao-ge tonight.”

“What did I do to embarrass him? He’s not my dad,” Jiang Yibai replied with a laugh. He stood by the side of the road, calling a car while lighting a cigarette. “Relax. He already knows what I’m like. He won’t hold it against me.”

“You scared the master off. Zhao-ge probably won’t invite you next time.” Zhou Yuanyuan took out a small mirror and checked her makeup under the streetlight. She gave a satisfied hum. “This base makeup you gave me holds up pretty well. The later it gets, the better it looks.”

“Right?” Jiang Yibai said at once. “I knew it would suit you.”

“At least you still have a conscience,” Zhou Yuanyuan said, giving him a glare before snapping the mirror shut. “Hey, how’s that ampoule set you bought last time? Still using it?”

“It’s alright. Oh, but I found this hydrating mist with great value for money. I’ll send you the link…”

Just like that, the two of them left Zhao-ge and his matchmaking intentions behind, chatting cheerfully until their ride arrived.