Ji Qingqian said, "Then answer the question."
Mr. Lu said, "Where is it short! Is 1.3 million words short?"
Ji Qingqian checked the word count and then reminded him, "Not yet."
Mr. Lu said, "Let's round it up to 1.25 million." But the actual number of words is 1.249 million, so we can't round it up; we can only round it down.
Lu Yibei was stubborn, saying, "It'll be ready once you finish writing this one. Write more."
Actually, a youth romance novel of 1.3 million words is not short.
This is considered a very long novel in this genre.
I didn't originally plan to write that much.
However, seeing that everyone likes Ma Jiaojiao and Zhao Sun, Xia Li and Li Si, and Chu Chu, I wrote their stories in more detail.
It's not that detailed to begin with.
↑↑ was written by Mr. Lu.
Ji Qingqian tried to salvage the situation for Mr. Lu. Mr. Lu's original intention was to write a novel about "West Lake Vinegar Fish being unpalatable," meaning that readers would chuckle at the mention of it. He'd already finished it; any future work would only cover "Why West Lake Vinegar Fish is unpalatable." There were many reasons, such as the seasonings or historical factors, but those were all too profound.
Mr. Lu didn't want to write those kinds of things; he just wanted to write a simple novel about "West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce being unpalatable," a superficial and shallow romantic comedy, much like the phrase "West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce being unpalatable." Simple and straightforward, something most people would agree with.
Ji Qingqian continued scrolling through the comments, which totaled nearly 200,000, making her eyes blurry. It was clear that everyone enjoyed the story, which made Ji Qingqian very happy.
Although it was Mr. Lu who wrote the story, she also felt a sense of pride and was proud of Mr. Lu.
Ji Qingqian said, "Many people have asked you if you will write a book."
Mr. Lu said, "Let's see."
He had been suffering from severe insomnia for the past two days, and he sounded weak and pitiful when he said those words. So Ji Qingqian didn't urge him any further.
However, Ji Qingqian knew that Mr. Lu had been writing for five or six years, and as long as he didn't change careers, he would probably continue writing.
Ji Qingqian put down her tablet and went to help Mr. Lu type.
She said to Mr. Lu, "Could you moisturize it for me later?"
Mr. Lu agreed.
Ji Qingqian warned, "But you're not allowed to make any arbitrary changes."
Mr. Lu agreed again, reluctantly.
Ji Qingqian asked, "Then how should we write the ending?"
Mr. Lu said, "You've read so many comments, so end with a sentence you'd like to say to the readers."
Ji Qingqian asked, "Even if you publish a new book, it won't be the story of Lu Yibei and Ji Qingqian anymore, right?"
Mr. Lu said, "Well, their story is basically finished."
Ji Qingqian nodded.
Long, long ago, in a very, very far place, Lu Yibei and Ji Qingqian met. You encountered them through words and heard their story.
If I never see you again, I wish you good morning, good afternoon, and good night.
…
…
P.S., This is a guest call.
The extra chapter, another story, and the author's note will probably be released in about a week.
I will finish writing it.
If you're interested, you can wait.
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