Chapter 62: Guess the First Subscription!

Liu Yifei shook her head, equally puzzled, for she truly knew little about the entertainment industry and rarely paid it any mind. Suddenly, an idea struck her and she said quickly, “We can search for Xu Ze on Weibo. Since he was on a national TV program, there must be something about him there.”

Mother and daughter sat down together and began searching for Xu Ze on Weibo.

At that moment, the trending topics were all dominated by Xu Ze. No matter which one they clicked, all were filled with praise for him.

Some comments admired his singing, others his good looks, and not a few declared they wanted to have his children!

That last one made Liu Xiaoli a bit wary.

Soon, they discovered Xu Ze actually had a Weibo account, which they hurried to visit.

When Liu Xiaoli saw the poem Xu Ze had posted, she couldn't help but exclaim in admiration:

“Excellent!”

“What a remarkable line: ‘Do not worry that no one knows you on the road ahead; who in all the world does not know you?’”

This poem was truly impressive—no wonder it had been shared by the China Daily.

As they continued to dig deeper, their astonishment only grew.

It turned out Xu Ze had entered the music world to complete his academic thesis: “On the Inheritance and Development of Traditional Culture in Modern Society.”

Through this, he was the first to propose the concept of Chinese-style songs, and specially composed a poetic and picturesque piece, “The Breaking East Wind.”

To help people better appreciate traditional culture, he took this song to compete in “I Am a Songwriter.”

After rising to fame, he did not exploit his popularity to sign with entertainment companies for profit, but instead continued to focus earnestly on his studies and research.

Later, he even wrote new lyrics for “Dreamlike Tune” in literature class, adapted the entire song, and together with “In the Dream,” saw it included in middle school extracurricular reading materials.

Step by step, Xu Ze’s astonishing actions made Liu Xiaoli think of her own father.

Her father had been a talented, insightful, and ever-progressing man. Since childhood, she had learned many excellent qualities from him.

Now, to her amazement, she found a reflection of her father in Xu Ze.

Lost in thought, Liu Xiaoli became absorbed in memories. Her father had been gone for two years, but his image remained deeply etched in her mind, growing ever clearer as time passed.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Liu Yifei asked with concern, noticing her mother’s absentmindedness and the hint of tears in her eyes.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Liu Xiaoli collected herself, gently wiped her eyes, and explained,

“I was just thinking of your grandfather.”

Hearing this, Liu Yifei hugged her mother softly. She knew that ever since her grandfather’s passing, her mother would often sit alone, gazing at his old photographs.

In those photos, her grandfather wore a white shirt and black casual trousers, his hair swept back in the classic style of that era, smiling radiantly.

In his youth, her grandfather had been quite a handsome man.

Regaining her composure, Liu Xiaoli suddenly grew a little anxious about her daughter.

She knew that someone as exceptional as Xu Ze would never lack for admirers. If her daughter became too infatuated, she might end up hurt.

Fortunately, judging by their conversations, things hadn't reached that point yet.

Just then, Liu Yifei coquettishly said, “Mom, I want to perform Xu Ze’s ‘Wedding in the Dream’ at the Golden Hall.”

“Is that alright?”

Hearing this, a trace of worry flickered in Liu Xiaoli’s eyes. She was silent for a moment, then finally nodded slowly. “If you like it, that’s all that matters.”

She truly could find no reason to refuse—this “Wedding in the Dream” was so outstanding she could not fault it at all.

“Mom, you think this piece is wonderful too, don’t you?” Liu Yifei’s face lit up with delight, surprised that her mother had agreed so readily—she had expected a bit of persuasion would be needed.

“Yes, it’s a very fine composition,” Liu Xiaoli nodded.

She was certain that when this piece was presented to the world, it would cause a huge sensation.

...

In these days, Xu Ze had signed song royalty contracts with Zhu Zhengting and Sun Na respectively.

Other than occasionally giving them pointers on singing, he spent all his spare time writing furiously to accumulate drafts.

Tonight, “Immortal Execution” was about to go live. The time had come to see whether this book could truly make money.

Just yesterday, the number of its bookmarks had broken past one million.

Though still not as high as those of the platinum authors on the rankings—who came with their own built-in fan bases and whose stories already ran into the millions of words—for a newcomer’s very first novel to reach such heights had already sent shockwaves through the web literature community.

Never before had a debut novel by a new writer achieved what “Immortal Execution” had.

Even before its official launch, it was the constant subject of discussion on every writers’ forum, author group, and web literature media account.

Already, the new book rankings were filled with works imitating “Immortal Execution.”

Many readers, after finishing the latest update, found themselves unsatisfied and would seek out similar novels to keep the feeling alive.

Faced with such massive traffic, many Level 5 authors, and even some of the true luminaries, swallowed their pride and jumped on the “Immortal Execution” bandwagon.

After all, making money was nothing to be embarrassed about.

For a time, the Xianxia (Immortal Hero) channel became the most fiercely contested section of the site.

At the same time, it transformed overnight from the most niche channel into the one with the highest traffic.

Tonight, with “Immortal Execution” about to launch, countless authors flocked to discuss it.

On the writers’ forum,

The front page was still dominated by “Immortal Execution.”

“Do you all really think ‘Immortal Execution’ was written by a newcomer?”

“I doubt it. The writing is so polished, the pacing impeccable—how could a first-timer produce this?”

“But if it’s an experienced author, they’ve hidden themselves astonishingly well. No one’s managed to unmask them.”

“Maybe it’s a heavyweight from the world of traditional literature, now writing web novels.”

“That’s possible—there is a trace of traditional literary style in the writing.”

At that moment, a new thread appeared, marked as a highlighted post: “Guess the First-Day Subscriptions! ‘Immortal Execution’ is launching tonight—place your bets!”

This was an old tradition on the forum.

Whenever a particularly hot book was about to launch, everyone would try to guess how many first-day subscriptions it would receive.

Besides livening up the forum, it was a way for authors to show off their insight.

For instance, some old hands loved to direct the flow of conversation on the forum. If someone challenged them, it wasn’t always appropriate to reveal their pen name or alternate accounts—after all, once exposed, they’d lose the freedom to speak recklessly.

So, many proved their prowess by pointing to their past guesses on first-day subscriptions. If most of their predictions had been spot on, even those who’d argued with them would quietly concede,

“You’ve got real skill.”

And thus, first-day subscription guessing became the liveliest event on the forum.