Chen Yuanguang typed the final character, then checked the whole piece again for awkward phrasing and typos. After fixing the problems, he thought for a moment and added another note from the author:
"That's all for today. Don't wait up, everyone."
Yes, Chen Yuanguang was a somewhat well-known writer on Qidian. He made a decent living writing niche stories in specialized genres, earning ten to twenty thousand yuan a month.
That counted as a high income for an entire family, let alone for a fourth-year university student like him. It was more than enough to let him live better than most students at his school.
And as he accumulated readers and became increasingly skilled at commercial writing, that income still had plenty of room to rise in the foreseeable future.
The sun outside the window cast a pale golden light. Chen Yuanguang glanced at it, then got up and returned to the other room.
Once his writing income had crossed the five-thousand-yuan threshold, Chen Yuanguang had no longer wanted to live with roommates. He rented a two-bedroom apartment off campus.
One room was used specifically as a study, with his computer and bookcases inside. For the sake of reading comfortably, he had even bought a beanbag chair.
The other was his bedroom. Ever since moving out and entering his fourth year, Chen Yuanguang had no coursework besides his graduation thesis, and his schedule had gradually become sleeping during the day and writing at night.
He really did have more inspiration at night.
Before his six o'clock alarm could go off, at around five, Chen Yuanguang opened his eyes. He picked up the phone beside him and saw several missed calls—some from his academic advisor, others from roommates and friends.
No, they were former roommates now.
Among the missed calls, his academic advisor had called three times, each about ten minutes apart.
Following the order of priority, Chen Yuanguang called his advisor back first. "Director Liu, I was asleep earlier. What is it? Please just tell me."
"Yuanguang, here's the situation. Professor Xia Haibin's team hasn't filled all its positions, and they want to recruit a student from our department. You have a chance to compete for it. If you're interested, come to my office tomorrow to learn the details," the advisor said.
Chen Yuanguang weighed it up internally. Xia Haibin, a young professor without any prestigious title yet, and still on an up-or-out contract? Wouldn't that work me to death?
The university treated young scholars as consumables, young scholars treated graduate students as consumables, and the exploitation went layer by layer. He would have to be worked to the bone just for a diploma. Writing webnovels was still the better deal.
"Director, you know I plan to go home and take it easy. Give this opportunity to another classmate who needs it," Chen Yuanguang said.
In 2018, it was still the final golden age of growth dividends. Even 985 University graduates with only bachelor's degrees had no shortage of good opportunities. Countless companies were willing to give them a chance, willing to train them based on the fundamental qualities that had gotten them into a 985 University.
It was completely different from the era of zero-sum competition a few years later, when companies practically wanted graduates to come with three years of work experience already built in.
The greatest advantage of Jiang University was its freedom. No one cared if you skipped class, no one cared if you lived outside the dorms, and no one cared if you had nowhere to go after graduation. Advisors would not call like they were chasing your life just because you had neither gone to graduate school nor signed a tripartite employment agreement, terrified that one unemployed student might damage the university's reputation.
So Director Liu did not say much. He was not surprised by Chen Yuanguang's answer. He had heard long ago that this student was doing quite well in the webnovel industry.
Chen Yuanguang had stuck with it for three years. Now in his fourth year, he was not attending recruitment events or applying for guaranteed graduate admission, so he was clearly doing well. Not to mention that he had been with Lin Jia for years—if he had not been making money, there was no way he could support her.
The advisor still wanted to persuade him one more time. "Yuanguang, you're only a little short of the grade requirement for guaranteed graduate admission. If Professor Xia takes a liking to you, your admission should be secure. Writing webnovels is an industry with an extremely high degree of uncertainty. Doing well now doesn't mean you'll be able to maintain this level in the future.
"Since you're writing webnovels while attending school and can still keep your grades above average, I suggest you think it over some more. Stay in the ivory tower for a few more years and see how things go."
Chen Yuanguang politely declined. "Director Liu, thank you very much. I'll think it over carefully."
Director Liu felt that he had fulfilled his duty, so he said nothing more.
"Graduate school sounds pretty good, but graduate school in biochemistry, environmental science, and materials science is basically a trap," Chen Yuanguang said to himself. He still intended to give up the opportunity.
Having tasted freedom, Chen Yuanguang never wanted to be bound by a mechanized life again. Graduate school was far less relaxed than undergraduate study, and young scholars without prestigious titles would work students to the sky.
He understood everything his advisor had said. But wasn't the incomparable freedom exactly why he had chosen webnovels without hesitation?
Self-media creators could still end up constrained by MCNs, but webnovel authors could come up with ten thousand excuses to brush off their readers.
Chen Yuanguang got up. In his groggy state, he seemed to remember someone knocking on the door. "It should be a delivery. Lin Jia's birthday present for me must have arrived."
He looked at his phone and found a text message. "Mr. Chen, I called you earlier, but no one answered. You have a delivery, so I placed it in the parcel locker. Remember to pick it up."
Chen Yuanguang felt a burst of anticipation when he saw the message. This had to be Lin Jia's birthday gift.
"Huh? Didn't they say they put it in the parcel locker? Why is it just sitting outside my door?"
Chen Yuanguang saw a large box sitting directly at the entrance.
"The box is pretty big. Could it be a bag?" Chen Yuanguang stared at the pure black package and guessed based on its weight.
There was only a logo on the surface of the box: Matrix.
"What brand is this? Why haven't I heard of it before?"
After opening it, he discovered that it was a helmet. It had a metallic texture to the touch, yet it seemed somewhat different from ordinary metal.
As a materials science student, he had an innate sensitivity to such things.
Like the box, the matte-black helmet bore a silver logo: Matrix.
A helmet? But I don't even have a motorcycle.
Chen Yuanguang figured Lin Jia was probably still on the plane, so he did not call to ask her.
He walked straight to the mirror, put on the helmet, and prepared to admire how he looked in it.
"Mr. Chen, you have been determined to be unconscious. Awakening procedures are now being carried out through B1-74 medication. This procedure is authorized under Article 389, Chapter 29 of the Robot Medical Emergency Response Regulations."
Chen Yuanguang only felt that, after putting on the helmet, he had no idea what happened next. It was as if he had lost consciousness. When he woke again, not only had his surroundings changed, but the first thing he saw was a biomimetic robot brimming with futuristic design.
Then some memories were stuffed into his brain. They felt as though he had been born with them—there was no pain, no tearing sensation, only the dizziness that came from thinking too much.
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