Chapter Five: No One Believes

The three-day New Year's holiday passed in a flash, and by the evening of the third, Zhou Xuan was already back in the classroom at No. 2 Middle School. The classmates remained the same, diligently reviewing for the upcoming final exams.

As he entered the classroom, Zhou Xuan noticed that Liu Yixue was wearing the outfit she had bought at his family's shop the other day. Seeing her graceful figure, her curves more defined, Zhou Xuan couldn’t help but marvel that this young woman’s physique was becoming increasingly attractive.

He walked up to Liu Yixue, looked her up and down, and asked, “How do you like the clothes I recommended?”

Liu Yixue hadn’t expected Zhou Xuan to be so bold, his gaze somewhat invasive. She blushed immediately and murmured, “Mm, thank you.”

Laughing, Zhou Xuan said, “Let’s take a walk behind the school after evening study.” No longer teasing her, he invited Liu Yixue to talk on the hill after evening self-study.

“Okay,” Liu Yixue replied in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Returning to his seat, Zhou Xuan greeted Zhou Lin and Zhuo Lian, then sat in a daze.

After three days of opening, the sales figures at the clothing store and supermarket had calmed down from the initial frenzy. The clothing store’s daily sales stabilized at seven or eight thousand, and the supermarket at around twelve thousand. Seeing these results, Zhou Xuan’s parents and his uncle, who had been somewhat anxious at first, felt reassured and worked even harder at their new enterprise.

After two days of work, the hao123 website had been established and the corresponding domain name registered. Zhou Xuan deployed the site on his own computer, directing the domain to it. Now the site was accessible, and he had begun promoting hao123 by posting on popular forums.

However, there were still few websites, and the homepage of hao123 wasn’t filled with icons yet. Thinking about future maintenance—adding new links, removing dead ones, and ensuring no illegal sites were linked—Zhou Xuan felt a headache coming on.

He decided to hire someone after the New Year to manage hao123. Zhou Xuan had no intention of maintaining the site himself, spending seven or eight hours a day like Li Xingping—he’d be exhausted.

As for the Internet café management system, that could wait until after the holidays. The Internet café craze was just beginning, so there was no urgent need.

He also thought about the manuscript he’d submitted, "Stories of the Ming Dynasty." Most of the feedback he’d received was rejection, which made him anxious.

Zhou Xuan found it odd. Could it be that releasing it eight years early was somehow ill-timed?

But Zhou Xuan didn’t know that his "Stories of the Ming Dynasty" had stirred up a bit of a commotion within magazine publishers.

At a certain magazine in Jiangnan.

“Editor-in-chief, this ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ is quite good. It’s nothing like the dull, flavorless history I used to read. It’s really well written.”

“What’s so good about it? If we publish something like this, won’t the historians tear us apart? Is this even history?”

“Ah! But I think it’s great!”

“Xiao Liu, what’s that attitude? Are you saying your few months of experience trumps my decades?”

“Chief, I didn’t mean it that way!”

“Hmph…”

At a major publishing house in the capital.

“Nonsense! How can history be written like this? This is absurd!”

Everyone outside thought the novel was promising, but for the editor-in-chief, who had the experience of a history professor, the novel was a travesty, undermining the seriousness of history.

Given the situation, few believed in the prospects of publishing "Stories of the Ming Dynasty," and some even felt sorry for Zhou Xuan.

As for Zhongzhou Publishing, which had already signed an agreement to serialize "The Love of Hawthorn Tree" with Zhou Xuan, their attitude was different.

“Old Xu, what’s your opinion on Zhou Zixuan’s new novel, ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’?” Zhou Zixuan was Zhou Xuan’s pen name.

“Old Chen, honestly, the novel is quite interesting. The language is lively and witty, it brings history to life. It certainly has value as a publication, but I wonder whether the market will accept such an unconventional history novel.”

“I share your concerns. Once it’s published, it will definitely spark heated debate. I can imagine some rigid and serious historians refusing to acknowledge it. The magazine will face considerable pressure.”

“There’s pressure, but also opportunity. Why not contact Zhou Zixuan directly and say we’re willing to publish, but only at a buyout price of one hundred yuan per thousand words?”

“Agreed, let’s do it.”

Zhou Xuan had submitted his manuscript to about nine publishers, and received responses from seven. Four had outright rejected publication, stating that they had no interest in such historical novels.

To this, Zhou Xuan scoffed. History would prove how short-sighted they were. After all, the royalties for the original author reached tens of millions, and the publisher’s income must have exceeded hundreds of millions.

The remaining two, including Zhongzhou Publishing and another, proposed a buyout price of one hundred yuan per thousand words. They complained over the phone that publishing "Stories of the Ming Dynasty" would bring immense pressure, so only a buyout price was possible.

Zhou Xuan knew they saw the novel’s potential, though perhaps not its full extent.

He didn’t bother with them, focusing only on the last publisher’s terms.

The last was Xiling Publishing, located in the provincial capital, a second-tier publisher nationally. They were eager to publish, but only offered a royalty rate of five percent—a standard rate for absolute newcomers.

Such terms were unacceptable to Zhou Xuan, who had confidence in "Stories of the Ming Dynasty." Even though it was eight years ahead of schedule, people’s tastes hadn’t changed much; classics always remain classics. He believed it would shine just as brightly in 1998.

Thinking about all this, Zhou Xuan felt annoyed. He had replied to the provincial publisher’s email, but two days had passed with no response.

The problem was that the internet wasn’t yet deeply ingrained in people’s lives. Remembering "First Intimate Contact," Zhou Xuan was tempted to write it himself and usher in the era of online serial novels.

But he couldn’t remember exactly when "First Intimate Contact" originally appeared—just that it was sometime in 1998. If he wrote it now and it clashed with Pi Zi Cai’s version, it would be awkward.

Zhou Xuan researched the provincial publisher: they’d published a few books, but none had sold well; they badly needed a bestseller to make their mark.

Since they still had doubts about the prospects of "Stories of the Ming Dynasty," perhaps he could propose a bet agreement to boost their confidence. After all, they had nothing to lose.

After some thought, Zhou Xuan decided this plan was feasible.

The next day, during the morning exercise break, Zhou Xuan called Xiling Publishing.

“Hello! This is Wan Jinglin.” The other end was an editor at the magazine, whose phone number had been listed in the email.

“Hello! This is Zhou Zixuan!”