Redwood Café.
At this time, in December, the southern city had only just stepped onto winter’s doorstep, barely brushing against it and not yet fully entering. The café hadn’t even turned on the heating, and the cool air, carrying a trace of chill, permeated through the half-open window.
Lin Chuan didn’t like those tightly enclosed spaces without air circulation; they felt very stuffy.
Right now,
He was enjoying the slightly chilly air, taking a sip of coffee that tasted somewhat like ’Arabica beans produced in Santos,’ with a smile on his lips, "I’ve written some novels that aren’t particularly grand, but you might have heard of them."
Hou and Brother Hao exchanged looks.
Brother Hao thought Lin Chuan couldn’t understand Malay, and with a snicker, he said to Hou in Malay, "Novels that aren’t fit for the big stage, and still having the nerve to show off about them? Our website used to hold a large share of globally popular novels!"
Cough, even if they were pirated.
But as long as I had them, that was my achievement.
Such was Brother Hao’s shameless thought.
Hou chimed in, "Definitely, it can’t compare to our novel website, of course!"
However, facing Lin Chuan, Brother Hao switched to a different demeanor, "Lin, you might not be well-known now, but in the future, you’ll surely write great novels. Why don’t you publish a few on our Mars Novels? I guarantee you’ll earn five thousand a month, enough to hit the tax threshold in your country!"
The more he spoke, the more confident he became, casting aside his earlier fear of the ’Lin surname.’
That’s the charm of pretending!
Keep pretending, and you start to believe it’s true!
Hou translated faithfully.
Lin Chuan heard every word of their Malay conversation and couldn’t help but be amused. These two were the clowns of that novel website.
However, Little Landlady said, "Five thousand a month sounds a bit low, doesn’t it? My boyfriend’s novels have been published overseas before and seemed to be quite a hit in Southeast Asia for a while."
"Low?"
Brother Hao touched his nose and put his hand on Hou’s shoulder, "So there’s a history of success, ah? Then we can discuss it further."
After Hou translated, he added a question, "If I may ask, the popularity in Southeast Asia you mentioned, to what extent are we talking?"
Lin Chuan rested his hand on the table, smiling, "Over there, the novel website put up lots of billboards for me, the kind you see on the street."
Hou laughed, "That’s something our novel website also often does. Just tell me the name of the book, and next time I’m out on the streets, I’ll see if I can spot it."
Brother Hao scoffed inwardly. A novel that took Southeast Asia by storm? There’s no way I wouldn’t know about it. When he mentions the title and I don’t recognize it... that’ll mean this kid is full of hot air, making it much easier to negotiate for the exclusive rights to ’I Am Not the Medicine God.’
He still paid lip service, "What’s the name of the book? When I have time, I’ll give it a read."
Lin Chuan had no intention of showing off, but his eyes lifted slightly and his lips curled upwards, his face wearing a smile that was dangerously close to one of the returning Dragon King.
He simply said, "The novel is called ’Arms Tycoon,’ and it was quite a hit for some time."
After speaking, he picked up his coffee and took a delicate sip.
— The pretentious swagger, tactically sipping water.
"Arms Tycoon, huh? I’ve never heard of that one..." Brother Hao also picked up his coffee; the coffee wasn’t hot, but his words were scalding. His face froze, and his hand began to tremble uncontrollably, like someone in the late stages of Parkinson’s plus a touch of showboating, unable to stop.
Arms Tycoon!?
"I haven’t heard of it," Lin Chuan said with a hint of disappointment, his face showing a smirk.
"No... no..."
Both Brother Hao and Hou began to stammer.
Hou’s throat felt dry, trying to swallow but finding it difficult, his complexion turning from green to purple.
’Lin’ plus ’Arms Tycoon,’ when these two keywords combined, they awakened two unbearably painful memories, the kind where a moment’s inattention could cost one’s life.
In front of him, this slightly handsome, sunny, and clean-looking young man seemed to suddenly transform into a devil!
Brother Hao was even worse!
His face turned deathly pale, devoid of any color, and his left hand grasped his right wrist, steadying the Parkinson-induced tremors while he carefully placed his coffee back on the table.
He wanted to run away!
But his legs were fainting, unable to step forward, hands propping himself up in his seat, just managing to prevent himself from collapsing, his eyes empty and filled with fear.
In the presence of one’s inner demons, there’s an innate cowardice.
Brother Hao knew this all too well!
"What’s wrong with you two, not used to Anling’s weather?" The Little Landlady was the first to notice something off about the two and asked.
"Ah, maybe... maybe I caught a cold yesterday."
Hou’s teeth were trembling slightly, his speech not quite fluent, pretending to rub his nose.
Then,
He reached to touch Brother Hao’s forehead, eyes widening in feigned surprise, "Guys, Brother Hao’s forehead is burning up. It looks like he has a fever. I have to help him back to the hotel to rest!"
Without waiting for Lin Chuan or the Little Landlady to respond.
Hou immediately helped Brother Hao stand up, like assisting someone drunk, with Brother Hao leaning on Hou’s shoulder. The two staggered out of Redwood Café, drawing several curious glances from the people inside.
Run!
Run fast!
This is definitely a calamity!
"Monkey Editor and that Brother Hao behaved so strangely!"

Comments

Loading...