First Chapter Subscriptions: 2,800

Qin Luming scanned a shared electric bike and found it was already occupied. Seeing the seat covered in tiny needle holes, he recalled the rumor about a bloodstained needle being found in an electric bike seat and took a closer look.

This world was far too dangerous.

"I scanned this bike," a girl said as she cautiously approached Qin Luming. Her looks and bearing could easily make one's heart race, but hadn't there been news about perverts who specifically licked the seats of shared bicycles or electric bikes ridden by girls? There were too many perverts in this world.

"Oh."

Without the slightest embarrassment, Qin Luming turned and left, despite the suspicion in her tone and eyes.

Qin Luming took the subway back to school. In this season of lingering chill, the greenery had already begun to flourish. By May and June, it would be lush and vibrant—the peak season for graduation breakups. It was rather fitting. Perhaps the school had planted so many trees as a subtle hint born of good intentions.

Qin Luming did not live in the dormitory. Strange things always happened around him, and he himself did things ordinary people could not understand. It was never suitable for him to expose his private life in a public space.

After finishing his morning classes, Qin Luming ate in the cafeteria with his classmates Guo Gaoming and Diao Ligang.

"I was going to get some boiled instant noodles, add some vegetables, a sausage, and an egg. That would've been perfect." Diao Ligang looked at his serving of potato-braised chicken, which did not contain a single piece of chicken.

He meant a stall near the school that boiled instant noodles, not one of those trendy instant noodle cafeterias where tossing in a few ingredients cost twenty or thirty yuan.

"The last time I went, I brought some octopus and sliced abalone for the old lady to cook into seafood noodles. Man, that smell." Guo Gaoming smacked his lips nostalgically and stole a piece of potato from Diao Ligang.

"Listening to you two, I might as well cook instant noodles when I get back tonight," Qin Luming said with a touch of nostalgia. Instant noodles were miraculous things: one packet was never enough, two made you stuffed, two meals in a row made you sick of them, but after going without them for a long time, they tasted delicious again. You might not want to make them yourself, but seeing someone else make them made you want a couple of bites.

Qin Luming, Guo Gaoming, Diao Ligang, and another classmate, Zhu Baiqing, should originally have been roommates. Their dorm had been assigned, and Qin Luming had paid the accommodation fee, so his bed was naturally reserved for him, but he had never actually lived there.

That had been the case in his freshman year, and it was the same in his sophomore year. No one knew why Qin Luming wasted the money. The school's four-person dorms were not in short supply, so they would not take back his bed.

Guo Gaoming and Diao Ligang got along reasonably well with Qin Luming. He was neither warm nor cold toward female classmates, but he had no airs around the boys and was easygoing and generous.

The other classmate, Zhu Baiqing, often argued with Diao Ligang and Guo Gaoming, because Zhu Baiqing was also an online fiction writer.

Zhu Baiqing had written web novels on and off in high school, but he had little time and freedom, so his scattered efforts produced no results. During the summer after graduation and the first semester of freshman year, he forced out a two-million-word web novel. Its results were still poor, but it was successfully contracted and put behind a paywall. Seeing that he had a talent for updating quickly, his editor had him finish that book and guided him into starting a new one.

By the time that new book was completed, Zhu Baiqing had reached an excellent average subscription count of 3,000 and become a member of the site's Premium Hall.

Zhu Baiqing had now started another new book. It was showing signs of taking off just after going premium, and its results would definitely be better than those of his previous book.

Zhu Baiqing updated heavily every day and spent a great deal of time typing. Sometimes Diao Ligang and Guo Gaoming had been lying in bed for ages while he was still clattering away at his keyboard. Once a writer got into the zone, they often lost track of everything else, let alone a speedster like Zhu Baiqing.

When Diao Ligang and Guo Gaoming played games together, they liked to yell and shout over voice chat, leaving Zhu Baiqing unable to write in peace. This was especially true when he hit a block of inspiration or needed to think through the plot's development. At those times, he found it even harder to focus on writing.

Arguments were inevitable. Still, they were roommates who saw each other every day. Their relationship was not exactly harmonious amid all the bickering, but they had not completely fallen out.

Just as they were talking about instant noodles, Zhu Baiqing spotted the three of them and came over carrying his tray before sitting down.

"Not eating with your girlfriend?" Guo Gaoming asked blandly. Zhu Baiqing was the only one in the dorm with a girlfriend.

"A He's class is having a group dinner," Zhu Baiqing said. At the mention of his girlfriend, a proud yet restrained light appeared on his face... It was quite a coincidence, really. His name was Zhu Baiqing, and one of Zhu Ziqing's essays was called "A He," and it also featured a girl named A He.

"Her class is having dinner... and you're eating in the cafeteria? What, they don't allow family members? You could at least chip in," Diao Ligang said with a laugh. "Still, you've got it better than us three. We were thinking of having instant noodles."

"Oh, right. When I get my royalties next month, I'll treat you guys to a big meal." Zhu Baiqing glanced at Qin Luming, seemingly casually.

"What, did your new book do pretty well after going premium?" Qin Luming understood exactly what Zhu Baiqing meant and took the bait.

"It was just so-so... 2,800 first-day subscriptions." Zhu Baiqing sighed heavily. His gaze swept past Guo Gaoming and Diao Ligang before he looked at Qin Luming and shook his head, appearing rather dissatisfied.

"That's already very good. My new book hasn't even been contracted yet." Qin Luming put on an ashamed expression.

A first-day subscription count of 2,800 was indeed very good. Zhu Baiqing's previous book had taken a year to write and only reached an average subscription count of 3,000, while a book's final average subscription count was often three or even four times its first-day count. In other words, as long as Zhu Baiqing's plot did not fall apart later on, reaching an average of 10,000 subscriptions was entirely possible.

An average subscription count of 3,000 was a threshold that the overwhelming majority of authors could not cross.

Taking the site where Qin Luming and Zhu Baiqing published as an example, among its millions of novels, the contract rate in each category was basically in the single digits. Contracted works were not necessarily able to go premium, and among those that did, novels with an average subscription count of 3,000—meaning they earned a Premium badge—numbered only two or three thousand over the site's more than ten years of history.

Compared with those above him, Zhu Baiqing was lacking, but in the eyes of ordinary authors, he already counted as a big name. With his monthly updates of 300,000 words, during certain middle or late months of a book's run, boosted by the concentrated half-year bonuses, diligent updates, and the site's promotion, his income could possibly break seventy or eighty thousand yuan in a single month. If he kept updating diligently, earning twenty or thirty thousand yuan a month was commonplace.

Many authors who achieved such results could earn over a million yuan in digital subscription royalties from a single book, provided the later stages did not collapse and subscriptions did not plummet. They might even sell various adaptation rights, bringing in another large sum.

Of course, that was the best-case scenario. Not every book with 2,800 first-day subscriptions could earn that much.

That was how this industry worked. Many people wrote ten or more books without making much money, but if even one book took off, they might make a fortune.

How many authors wrote online fiction? Some said hundreds of thousands, others said millions. It was hard to count, but the number was certainly large. Qin Luming casually guessed that ninety percent had never earned any direct financial return from their writing, himself included.

Many authors gave up after writing for a while without earning anything. Others had only ever treated it as a side job, or switched careers.

Many authors persevered, yet might never have received royalties of more than four digits, or even managed to earn three digits.

Those vast numbers of authors were the failures Zuozuo and Right Caicai talked about, and Qin Luming was one of them.

Qin Luming did not care how much money he could make. He only wanted to write one widely popular book after another, then leave them unfinished.