January 21, 2025.
Tomorrow is the day it goes premium, and even now, it still feels a little unreal.
About a month ago, the goal I set for myself was simply to get a contract—by then, I had already spent nearly half a year writing openings, and still couldn't make it through.
But I got lucky and finally barely passed.
I was especially happy that day. Even the November wind didn't feel so biting, and the sunlight fell warm around me. It felt as though there was nothing but smooth roads ahead.
None of the pain and torment that came later could compare to even a fraction of that happiness. Looking back now, it all feels like another lifetime.
Thinking about it now, I really was bold back then. As a newcomer, I wrote a story with an original worldbuilding setup: Western fantasy, farming, no system—and it didn't even get to the main plot until after chapter sixty.
Now, every single one of those words makes me suck in a cold breath. Every punctuation mark practically screams doom.
I remember browsing the rankings and flipping through the Sanjiang list for several months back without finding a single similar book. My heart finally went cold.
Honestly, I had wavered before. Near the end of the new-book period, I heard that a huge wave of traffic would come around then. And it really was huge—my follow-up reads went from 7 to 10, an increase of 43%.
I took those numbers to ask around, and everyone advised me to cut it.
I was lost for a long time. I spent the whole day in a daze. My brain seemed to still be turning, but something inside me felt like it had died.
I just sat in my chair, looking over the numbers again