When Phantom Rain got up this morning, he was truly stunned. Fellow Daoist Sixty-Winged Frost Centipede had tipped a thousand, Fellow Daoist Purple Moon had tipped five hundred, and then thinking back to the five hundred RaЬьiт (Fairy Tutu) had tipped a few days ago, Phantom Rain felt as if he were dreaming. This was no longer merely a matter of money, but a kind of affirmation, a kind of encouragement. To be honest, Phantom Rain had never imagined he could have a day like this.
All the fellow Daoists who had accompanied Hundred Refinements along the way knew that this book had always been neither warm nor cold. Its results certainly couldn't be called a flop, but it had never become popular either. Phantom Rain was only a small author working hard at his craft. There were too many popular books on Origin Point. As for great gods... hehe, never mind great gods—even little gods were people Phantom Rain could only look up to, and still look up to.
To tell it as a joke, back in October, when I saw Mortal lighting up the whole screen in red, stars were still popping in Phantom Rain's eyes, and he thought, When will I ever get a five-hundred tip? Mm, probably impossible!
Unexpectedly, after entering November, thanks to the tireless efforts of the two fellow Daoists Tinglou and Milk Dragon, and riding the east wind of one of Origin Point's popular premium recommendations, Phantom Rain originally only wanted to fulfill a dream, to appear on the front-page recommendation rankings for a while—even if it was only for one double-hour.
The result... was something I didn't dare imagine. Fellow Daoists, Raindrops, you were all too good to me. You actually let me stay there for twenty days. A miracle.
This month's