Night.
A portly, middle-aged man stood in a room, surrounded by virtual web pages projected all around him. With a casual wave of his hand, one page vanished. With a light tap, he moved on to another.
This was how computers worked on Yanhuang Planet: holographic projections had become reality.
But the legendary Virtual World—a high-tech system that could use a virtual-reality headset to pull a person's consciousness into a lifelike virtual world—had yet to appear.
There were rumors that such technology had already been developed in a top-secret Federation lab, but that was all they were: rumors. Nothing had been confirmed.
"Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Do these people think they can write an outstanding erotic novel just by putting words on a page? They're a joke. Today's authors really underestimate the genre."
The middle-aged man sneered. His name was Meng Fei, and at thirty-five, he was an editor at Penguin, the largest website on Yanhuang Planet.
His job was to review novels, find promising ones, and then get their authors to sign contracts with the website before putting the books up for sale.
The problem was, he hadn't found an erotic novel that suited his tastes in weeks. Most of the submissions were all the same, completely unoriginal, and not interesting enough to keep him reading.
Erotic novels weren't heavily suppressed by the government on Yanhuang Planet, which had allowed the genre to flourish and produced countless excellent works.
The very best erotic novels earned just as much as hit novels in other genres. In fact, in terms of sales, they ranked among the highest of all.
That had drawn countless authors to give the genre a try, hoping to earn their first pot of gold.
But not every erotic novel became a hit or won over countless readers. In fact, those who had read countless erotic novels had developed very discerning tastes. They had no interest in ordinary works.
It was like a veteran who had seen countless movies. Did he really think any woman could get him excited just by taking off her clothes? No. That alone wasn't nearly enough. At that level, the veteran wouldn't even spare her a glance, let alone show any respect. He'd be better off playing a game.
"Just as I thought."
Meng Fei sighed. "Now that Master Jia Zhiwei has retired, and Teacher Bao Pichang is getting on in years, is there really no one left who can write an erotic novel that gets people worked up and keeps them awake all night?"
He sighed deeply. Erotic novels had been glorious ten years ago, with one excellent work after another. Back then, he'd read himself half to death, become malnourished and practically skeletal, and nearly failed to graduate from high school. He couldn't sleep at night without reading one.
Of course, reading one only made it harder to sleep.
The thrilling, twisting plots, the descriptions that seemed to unfold right before his eyes, the close-quarters fights that made his blood race—all of it had left him beside himself with excitement. The very best erotic novels were far better than those films.
That was why he had joined Penguin and become an editor for erotic novels.
Unfortunately, ten years had passed, and excellent works in the genre had grown fewer and fewer. Some people even declared that erotic novels were dead and that they might as well just watch porn instead. That hateful slogan had left him heartbroken and unable to sleep at night.
That was why he worked overtime every day, reading every new submission in search of something promising, determined to refute those rumors. But so far, he hadn't found a single work that truly impressed him.
"But if I can't find a truly excellent erotic novel, maybe my standards are the problem. Should I resign?" Meng Fei couldn't help wondering.
Two years earlier, he'd suffered a major career crisis. He'd been walking down the street when a runaway magnetic car hit him, sending him straight to the hospital with serious injuries.
After he was discharged, however, the doctor told him he'd developed a certain kind of sexual dysfunction and would never be able to get it up again. Even with modern technology, there was no way to treat it. It was incurable.
After that, erotic novels did nothing for him. Reading them was like chewing wax.
But he hadn't told the company. He'd kept it secret, or he'd have been thrown out on his ear.
"No. I can't resign yet. If I don't find a truly excellent erotic novel, I'll die without peace. I can't let the future of the genre end in my hands. There are countless men whose needs we still have to satisfy, and countless teenagers who need us to show them the way. How can I give up and surrender now?! That's what a coward would do!"
Meng Fei's eyes shone with steely resolve. A hint of sacred light appeared in his expression, as if he were a martyr. His work was noble. Even if no one understood him and the world looked down on him, he would never regret his choice.
"Forget it. I'll read one last novel, then get some rest. Tomorrow, I'll get up and keep fighting."
A chime sounded, and another new novel came in. Meng Fei glanced at it. The author was a newcomer called Black-Hearted Wolf, and the title was Teacher Bai Rong. That was certainly an unusual title.
But an unusual title wasn't enough. What mattered was the plot and the story itself! Meng Fei sneered. He'd read countless books and was extremely picky about quality. Even if the author was a newcomer, a bad story was still a bad story. He wouldn't go easy on it.
Huh? The protagonist was a teacher?
The teacher was quite something—young, beautiful, alluring, and curvy. She'd even gotten married at such a young age. How unfair! Why had all his teachers been middle-aged women when he was in school? Not one of them had stirred the slightest feeling in him as a teenager. Meng Fei brooded over the injustice.
He kept reading. What the heck, what a beast! The principal was a beast, using his position to openly prey on his beautiful subordinate. Shameless! And she was married, too.
You beast of a principal, did you really think she'd give in just because you threatened her with your position? You'd go to prison for that. Damn, she really did give in—and didn't dare fight back. Bai Rong, you're a teacher! You're married! Don't you have any shame? Fight back!
Damn it, this was too outrageous. What had happened to the sanctity of schools? This kind of shameless affair had no place there. A teacher this beautiful, and she gave in that easily? They didn't even have time to date before going straight to the finish line. That was downright twisted. But that was how a novel ought to be: simple, brutal, and direct.
Meng Fei had completely lost himself in the story. The scenes grew more and more intense. The two of them didn't just carry on at school; they did it at home, too. Then her husband suddenly came back, and the story ended right there.
"What the hell? That's it? How can it just end?!" Meng Fei's head was spinning. He was frantic, practically ready to beat the author senseless. The story had stopped at the crucial moment. How was he supposed to live with that?
Wait, what was happening to his body? It felt as if a warm current were flowing through him. Had he come back to life? Meng Fei was shaken to his core, stunned and overwhelmed with excitement.