"Aaaah! The vacation went by too fast! I don't want to work!"
Hearing Lin Ke's words, Wang Lin raked irritably at her hair.
She looked just like a worker who had only just finished the May Day break but still hadn't had enough of her vacation.
Lin Ke couldn't help chuckling at the sight. "If it's really that bad, Master, why not try writing novels with Chen An?"
At those words, Wang Lin shuddered, immediately returning to her desk. "Writing novels isn't work fit for a human! Millions of words for that tiny bit of income-who would do it unless they were running on pure love?"
Lin Ke smiled at that.
Chen An had started writing novels, under his guidance at that.
Many of the novels in this life were incredibly, incredibly boring, packed with preaching and instruction.
They either taught loyalty to the sovereign and love for the nation, or urged people to study and learn their letters.
The problem was that education wasn't the essence of fiction. It was merely an extra flourish, flowers added to fine brocade.
The essence of fiction was satisfying people's spiritual needs.
Take his previous life: had there been many books full of educational value, philosophy, and profound meaning?
Bookstores had been piled high with them.
But what had been the most popular?
Webnovels!
What good did it do to lay down endless rules and spout reams of boring words just to encourage people to study and be virtuous?
You might as well write about hot-blooded youths whose fortunes changed-as the river flowed east for thirty years, then west for thirty more.
There was no instruction or philosophy anywhere in the story.
All it described was fighting and killing, leveling up and battling monsters.
And yet?
Yet it showed countless youths what they