After Writing Four Big Shots into Danmei Novels - Chapter 3

A speed of 10,000 words per hour!

Using the optical brain, the words born in his mind could be instantly generated before his eyes. Furthermore, the intelligent recognition system filtered out the parts where he was merely mulling over the plot, making it incredibly convenient. Faced with this brand-new writing method, Gu Jue didn’t feel the slightest discomfort; after a few practice runs, his word count began to soar.

Part of it was his strong adaptability. The other part was Gu Jue’s tendency to “love the new and loathe the old.” A new project would become “old news” after only three days; writing for long periods would usually make his inspiration wither. He could only trick his brain into staying fresh by constantly changing his writing software and font colors. Over time, he’d grown used to it.

In his past life, he had collected the full “Author’s Occupational Disease Gift Bag”: tenosynovitis, cervical spondylosis, and dry eye syndrome. With an optical brain in this life, all these ailments could be avoided. He couldn’t help but marvel that if one had to transmigrate, moving forward in time had many perks—if he had moved backward, he’d probably be holding a brush and learning how to write traditional characters.

It was also lucky that the universal language of the cosmos in this world was Chinese, saving him the trouble of relearning a language.

Gu Jue stayed in the virtual space for a full ten hours. He only stopped when the system warned him that staying in the optical brain any longer might cause brain damage.

Ten hours, 100,000 words.

If the Gu Jue of his past life had done this, his editor and readers would have suspected he’d been possessed. He could easily imagine the comments: [Who transmigrated into you?! Give us back the real Master Jue—the one who works one day and rests for three, who goes out for “material” today and calls in sick tomorrow, and who—despite us knowing he’s a man from his book signings—dares to use ‘period cramps’ as a lame excuse for a break… Uh, actually, never mind. Don’t give him back. Keep this hardworking one.]

He was the type who wouldn’t cry until he saw the coffin and wouldn’t work until he saw the deadline. But under the pressure of survival, Gu Jue finally exploded.

Full speed ahead!

Of course, coming up with a plot takes time, so Gu Jue took a shortcut: he “plagiarized” the plot beats from the novels he had written in his past life.

Being a copycat of others was a hurdle his conscience couldn’t cross—it felt unstable. Besides, even if he used someone else’s intellectual fruit comfortably, he wouldn’t understand the underlying knowledge or details, which could bury hidden dangers for his future career. Though Gu Jue was a “Dog Blood” author, he had the pride of a melodramatic writer. Other authors might let their protagonists do 99 good deeds, but he dared to let his “Shou” suffer through 99—

Doing 99 good deeds is meaningful and difficult, but it’s always within the realm of possibility. But having a man suffer 99 “miscarriages”? You could only see that in his novels!

Gu Jue knew he was an irreplaceable “mudslide” in this era of sensationalism. Although he loved procrastinating, his long career meant he always delivered by the deadline. Counting on his fingers, he had written about thirty long novels. He couldn’t remember the specific details or even the names of the protagonists for some, but a few remained crystal clear.

It wasn’t that he liked them particularly much. It was simply that those books had made him the most money and had been massive hits. Gu Jue would study the “selling points” of those hits and rewrite them in different ways until the readers got bored.

Now, he recalled his best-selling novel, tweaked the character designs and plot threads to fit the Interstellar Era, and—voila—another bestseller.

Gu Jue felt zero psychological burden “shearing his own wool.” In fact, it felt pretty good! One manuscript, earning money from two worlds. What bliss.

After finishing 100,000 words, Gu Jue spent more energy polishing the first 80,000 words to perfection. After all, he planned to put the book behind a paywall at the 80,000-word mark. He had to put 200% of his effort into the free chapters to entice… no, to attract readers into subscribing.

Finally, he connected to the Star-Net. He moved like a whirlwind—registering a pen name, publishing the new book, and setting the automatic update times for the drafts—before disconnecting. The entire process took only five minutes of internet credit. He didn’t waste a single second.

Pen Name: Shuang Yu (Double Jade)

Followers: 0

Points: 0

Rank: Resilient Black Iron

Work: 《The Wealthy Old Duke Falls in Love with Me》

Bounties Earned: 0

The number of bounties completed in the Bounty Shop was a metric recruiters used to judge applicants. After all, working with an experienced veteran saved a lot of communication trouble and was generally more reliable. Looking at this string of zeros, Gu Jue felt a sigh-inducing sense of starting from scratch.

The pen name “Shuang Yu” was derived from the character Jue (珏) in his name, which means “two pieces of jade joined together.” Until he accumulated enough wealth and fame, Gu Jue didn’t want the Song family to find him.

Gu Jue took off the helmet.

Returning to the real world, a wave of intense hunger hit him again. He could feel his internal organs sagging; his stomach was protesting his neglect, but there was nothing he could do. An Elf’s hunger is far more painful than a human’s. While humans crave fats and oils, spirit plants nourish an Elf’s “Star Core.” An unsatisfied Star Core emits a pain like having one’s soul crushed.

Gu Jue curled up on the nylon bed like a cooked shrimp—he was now a “useless Elf.”

Without sufficient spirit plants, the Elven race could hardly walk, let alone perform manual labor. Song Siyang was banking on this, knowing the original owner would eventually have to crawl back and beg him.

Just as he was planning to grit his teeth and endure it, the doorbell rang.

Gu Jue didn’t want to waste energy opening the door. He waited in silence until a voice came from outside: “Xiao Gu, it’s me. My Zhiwen was supposed to come back this Sunday, so I made enough porridge for three. A lonely old woman like me can’t finish it all in a few days, and it’ll go to waste. I wanted to see if you’ve eaten. If you don’t mind, could you help me eat some?”

It was the landlady’s voice. Hearing there was food, Gu Jue suddenly found a surge of energy and climbed out of bed. Information about the landlady surfaced from his memory palace.

The landlady was a widow in her sixties. Her son had married early and moved to the remote planet FGO for work. He hadn’t visited her in three years, only letting her see her grandson through the virtual space. When the original owner first came to rent the room, the landlady saw he was penniless and terribly thin, so she only asked for the first month’s rent without a deposit.

It took at least a week to travel from FGO to the Federation’s main star. If he had really planned to return, how could he break the promise at the last minute?

Having navigated society in his past life, Gu Jue had been helped by good people and trapped by bad ones. He immediately realized the landlady saw his struggle and invented this excuse to help him.

Opening the door, Gu Jue spoke: “Auntie Zhang, good afternoon.”

The landlady, holding a pot of porridge in both hands, was startled. Gu Jue had lived here for two months. When he first arrived, she only thought the boy was thin and beautiful, like a delicate glass flower. His gentle, shy, and polite manner triggered her maternal instincts. Living next door, she hadn’t seen him leave the house lately and worried he didn’t have a hot meal. By the time she realized it, she had cooked a full pot of porridge and only hesitated when she reached his door.

Young people had too many delicious things to eat these days; her own grandson hated her cooking, calling it bland. Would her tenant think she was a meddling old woman?

Her anxiety vanished the moment she saw him. Her eyes widened in shock: “Xiao Gu, how did you get so thin?! And why is a piece of your ear missing? This… this…”

He was practically a layer of skin draped over a skeleton!

“It’s a long story,” Gu Jue rubbed his nose, smelling the aroma of meat porridge. “Auntie Zhang, can I eat this?”

Gu Jue was about the same age as her grandson. Her long-distance longing for her family translated into pity for this handsome, well-behaved young man. She hurriedly pressed the pot into his hands, nagging: “I made it for you anyway! But don’t eat too fast, it’s fresh and hot. You have to eat well when you live alone, otherwise, think of how worried your parents would be.”

Imagining her grandson starving himself into this state made her heart ache. Gu Jue took the porridge. Hearing the landlady slip up—confirming she had made it specifically for him—a faint smile appeared on his thin lips. He looked even more endearing.

There are no ugly Elves, only beautiful and more beautiful ones, and most possess a holy aesthetic. Gu Jue was no exception; even while so thin he looked ready to collapse, his bone structure supported a face of absolute beauty. His bright black eyes looked at the landlady with easy-to-read gratitude.

“Alright, go eat quickly. Just leave the pot outside when you’re done.”

Facing the waves of meat aroma, Gu Jue didn’t refuse. He accepted her kindness, thanked her, and sat down to eat the porridge in small mouthfuls. While it couldn’t provide a single bit of nutrition to his starving Star Core, filling his stomach eased the physical gnawing and ensured he wouldn’t starve to death just yet.

In the resource-rich Federation, the people were highly civilized—the trends in web novels were proof of that. After leaving the Song family, the original owner had actually found a good person.

The porridge had meat and a bit of oil, but wasn’t too greasy. Having gone so long without food, his tongue was extremely sensitive; he could almost taste the exact amount of salt. It was warm and fragrant, and he finished it before he knew it. The deep-seated hunger didn’t vanish—he knew he’d still die without spirit plants—but for now, his stomach was settled.

He had the energy to “ship” some characters again.

He washed the pot and returned it personally, thanking Auntie Zhang again. The landlady had a belly full of questions, but since they weren’t close, she didn’t pry. The kind old woman decided to keep bringing him food for a few more days until they were familiar enough to talk.

At the same time, 《The Wealthy Old Duke Falls in Love with Me》 burst into the field of vision of novel lovers everywhere.

Mainly, it was too hard to ignore! In the [Recent Updates] list, it looked like this:

《Tranquil Blessings》

《Holding Your Hand Through the Wormhole》

《The Wealthy Old Duke Falls in Love with Me》

《Small Moments of Touching Grace in the Galaxy》

《Prospering the Nation, Hand-in-Hand Building a Harmonious Universe》

The one in the middle looked particularly… unrefined. But the interstellar netizens had truly never seen this style before.

Even a loyal romance novel enthusiast with a reading history of 200 years—Grand Marshal Duan Xiuye—was no exception.

He frowned and clicked on it.