Literary Society, As Expected

Some doors, once opened, really couldn't just be shut whenever you wanted.

Su Nai lay sprawled across the desk, her flushed cheeks pressed against its cool surface, but even that couldn't cool the pounding in her heart.

She felt like she had broken. Ever since she developed that curiosity she shouldn't have had, she had been ruined. She had started lingering, marveling at the wonders of the world, and had even picked up a few foreign phrases used to express refusal.

She had, without a doubt, become a bad girl.

Jiang Qin coughed and casually changed the subject. "There's one more thing. Su Nai, could you make me a small program that automatically replies to posts?"

"Automatically replies?" Su Nai raised her head slightly.

"Basically, you arrange for some bots with fake IDs to reply under every post with some generic flattery. Things like, 'Wow, this is so well written. I'm practically crying,' or, 'That's incredible. You're so talented.' The idea is to give the person who made the post a sense of accomplishment."

Su Nai pushed up her glasses. "I can find an existing one online, modify the code a little, and see if it works directly."

The moment Jiang Qin heard that, he knew there was hope, but he still said earnestly, "Focus on the work. Don't watch too many videos."

"Ugh..."

Su Nai collapsed onto the desk again, her sorrow flooding out like a river.

Jiang Qin stopped teasing her. He had said he would seal his heart and never love a dog again. If he provoked her anger, things might get difficult to handle.

"Junior, I'll be leaving first."

"Thanks, senior. Hurry up and go..."

Jiang Qin curled his lips. She had already seen every one of the eighteen positions, yet she was still acting shy. He slipped the library card into his pocket, then turned and left the library.

The website had been built, but for now it was still an empty shell, like a sheet of composition paper that had just been handed out. The squares were neat and orderly, but there was nothing written in them.

If he wanted a website to retain its users, it needed enough information to keep them browsing for a long time.

Jiang Qin decided to visit Lin University's Literary Society and have them write some stories he made up himself.

The Literary Society was affiliated with the Literature Department, and the entire Literature Department was currently located on the East Campus. Jiang Qin didn't have a car, so he could only walk all the way there. Fortunately, it was the beginning of the school year, and every club was preparing for recruitment activities. He didn't make the trip for nothing: the moment he entered, he saw a group of people making promotional boards.

"Make the words 'Club Recruitment' a little bolder. Better yet, change them to red so they stand out."

"Hey, you over there! Why are you just sitting around instead of working? Can't you see everyone's busy?"

With his hands clasped behind his back, Jiang Qin blindly directed everyone around the Activity Room. A sophomore who had been slacking glanced at him, unable to figure out what he did. He could only silently put away his phone and start working.

Eventually, someone couldn't take it anymore and raised his head. "Who are you? Are you the new teaching assistant from the Literature Department? Aren't you a little too young?"

Jiang Qin flashed a flirtatious smile and said, "I'm just an ordinary freshman." In response, he received a warm greeting containing an astonishing amount of profanity involving his mother.

Still, after he explained why he had come, someone called over the person in charge of the Literary Society.

One was the president, Yao Yanling, a junior majoring in Chinese Language and Literature.

The other was the vice president, Dong Wenhao, a sophomore majoring in Broadcasting and Hosting.

"Slice-of-life stories, five yuan per thousand words. Can we write about anything?"

Jiang Qin pondered for a moment. "I need stories told from a first-person perspective. They can be bizarre, but not ridiculous."

Dong Wenhao seemed rather interested. "You mean fictionalized documentary-style literature made up out of thin air?"

"Your ability to sum things up is impressive, senior. That's more or less what I mean. For example, 'I Started Managing My Time Efficiently After Getting Three Girlfriends,' 'The Secret I'd Rather Keep in My Stomach for the Rest of My Life Than Tell Anyone,' 'What It's Like to Have a Campus Beauty as Your Girlfriend,' or 'That Guy from Financial Class 3 Is Really Handsome.' Basically, controversial topics like that."

"Isn't that a little like a promotional monthly for a men's hospital? The kind with stories like, 'After Three Years of Separation, His Wife Unexpectedly Became Pregnant'?"

Jiang Qin looked surprised. "President Dong has even read literary masterpieces like that? I really didn't choose the wrong person!"

Yao Yanling couldn't help interrupting. "Are you publishing a periodical?"

"No, I'm running a website."

"Can your website serialize original novels?"

At Yao Yanling's question, Jiang Qin couldn't help being stunned.

Serializing novels was a direction he had never considered before. But if he wanted the website to retain enough users, following ongoing stories might be a good way to do it.

However, serialized novels had one problem. If they were long, the cost of paying for manuscripts would definitely increase. And if they weren't well written, no one would read them.

"Serialized novels are fine too, but they'll have to pass my review first. I won't pay for things that have no value."

Yao Yanling smiled confidently. "Actually, I have an original novel of my own. My writing is definitely excellent, but I'm not satisfied with five yuan per thousand words. It should be at least ten yuan per thousand words."

Jiang Qin shook his head. "I don't want good writing. I want something entertaining."

"A well-written story is bound to be entertaining. If you agree to ten yuan per thousand words, I can organize part of it and send it to you to read."

"What about the collaboration?"

Dong Wenhao leaned forward slightly. "Let me handle the collaboration. Our Literary Society has sixty-seven registered members. We'll definitely be able to provide enough manuscripts to satisfy you, but I have one condition."

Jiang Qin leaned back slightly in his chair. "Go on."

"Six yuan per thousand words. I'll organize the writers and help you control the quality, while Senior Yao will mainly be responsible for the serialization. How does that sound?"

After hearing this, Jiang Qin took another look at Dong Wenhao. He felt that this guy's gaze was sharper than Yao Yanling's.

A long serialized novel could indeed earn more through its length, but getting sixty-seven people to make money together was far better than earning with just two pairs of hands. Dong Wenhao had immediately seized control of the manuscript submissions, which meant he had definitely caught the scent of profit.

It seemed that among all the people at Lin University, he wasn't the only one trying every possible way to make money.

Yao Yanling, on the other hand, was more infatuated with literature and wasn't particularly interested in money. The reason she wanted ten yuan was actually because she wanted her work to be recognized.

Look, my writing can sell for ten yuan, while yours can only sell for five.

Someone like that would definitely achieve something if she truly had talent. But what if her ambitions soared higher than her fate could support, and she ultimately became trapped in her own world?

"Six yuan per thousand words is fine, but the manuscript fee will still be calculated at five yuan," Jiang Qin said on his own.

A trace of confusion flashed through Dong Wenhao's eyes. "If it's six yuan per thousand words, why is the manuscript fee still five?"

Jiang Qin grinned. "I can't have you helping for nothing, can I? The extra yuan will be your commission. Sorry for the trouble, senior, but please help strictly control the quality of the manuscripts."

"..."

Dong Wenhao's breath caught, and his crossed legs involuntarily dropped down.

He had asked for six yuan because he wanted to skim one yuan from every manuscript. He hadn't expected Jiang Qin to expose him with a single sentence. What should have been a private matter had been put out in the open. Now he could take the money legitimately, but controlling the quality had changed from empty words into a genuine work assignment.

Put simply, he had instantly gone from a middleman to an employee.

"I'm the vice president. It's only right that I fight for the members' interests. I shouldn't take a commission. That wouldn't be appropriate."

Jiang Qin glanced at Yao Yanling beside him. "There's no such thing as working for free without needing to eat. What do you think, Senior Yao?"

Yao Yanling felt that Jiang Qin's arrangement was quite reasonable. "Wenhao, since you're going to review the members' content, it's only right for you to take a commission."

"Then... I'll accept it, since you insist." Dong Wenhao agreed with a troubled expression.

Jiang Qin clicked his tongue after hearing that. I'll accept it, since you insist. What a damn cultured way to ask for money. No wonder it was the Literary Society— even asking for money could be done with such refined elegance.