Chapter 64: Words for the Young
At that moment, a fan of "Zhu Xian" posted:
“Brothers, we don’t look for trouble, but that doesn’t mean we’re afraid of it! Since they’ve raided our book’s comment section, you know what to do, right?”
“Charge! The Sword of Zhu Xian has been sealed for a millennium—now, it’s time for it to be unsheathed!”
In an instant, countless Zhu Xian fans flooded into the comment section of "Swordsman’s Adventure," spamming the threads relentlessly.
In less than a minute, over a hundred thousand new comments appeared, all in a strikingly similar format.
“Watch the dog with civility!”
“Watch the dog with civility!”
“Lapdog!”
“Mangy mutt!”
“Dog, dog, dog!”
...
Faced with this sudden avalanche of bizarre comments, the comment moderators for "Swordsman’s Adventure" were left utterly bewildered.
They wanted to delete the posts, but there were simply too many. For every one deleted, ten more would appear.
Before long, everyone noticed that the comment section for "Swordsman’s Adventure" was displaying “Network Error.”
The comment section had crashed!
When news of this broke, everyone was shocked. After all, Flourishing Age Literature, as the largest online literature site in China, had always boasted incredibly stable servers—never before had a single book’s comment section crashed due to an overload of comments.
Yet now, the "Swordsman’s Adventure" comment section had indeed crashed, and no one could access the reviews.
Things had gotten serious.
"Swordsman’s Adventure" had, since last year, held the number one spot on both the bestseller and monthly ticket charts. It was one of the site’s flagship works, and now, its comment section—belonging to a double-chart champion—had been rendered inaccessible by an attack.
This was a major incident.
The news quickly spread through various author and reader groups.
Countless onlookers turned their attention to both "Swordsman’s Adventure" and "Zhu Xian."
Chen Shuo, pen name Demon King, was a Platinum Author on Flourishing Age Literature, with nearly ten years of writing under his belt.
He had pulled an all-nighter writing, only going to bed at 8 a.m., and by the time he woke up, it was nearly dark.
He picked up his phone, only to discover over 999 unread messages and more than a hundred missed calls.
What on earth had happened?
He unlocked his phone.
“Demon King, your comment section is under attack!”
“Demon King, your comment section isn’t working—go check it right now!”
Chen Shuo was puzzled. How could his comment section suddenly become inaccessible?
He got up, logged into the website, and tried to open his comment section—sure enough, it showed a network error.
Just then, a fan moderator called him.
After finishing the call, Chen Shuo finally understood what had happened.
“Zhu Xian?”
His face darkened.
Like other authors, he’d been paying close attention to this aggressively popular new book.
As for the author, Xiao Yan, they were certain he wasn’t an alternate account of any of the site’s established authors. After all, among the top and platinum authors, everyone knew each other well enough to recognize anyone’s style at a glance.
But Xiao Yan was a complete stranger to them.
As for whether Xiao Yan was a heavyweight from the world of traditional literature, they couldn’t say. No one could.
On one hand, "Zhu Xian" read like online fiction; on the other, its prose was reminiscent of traditional literature. Yet its pacing and climactic moments were masterfully handled.
He’d been staying up late to write partly because he was keeping up with the latest chapters of "Zhu Xian."
The main thing was, Xiao Yan was relentless—updating at a breakneck pace, yet never sacrificing quality.
In the group chat for top authors, nearly everyone had high hopes for "Zhu Xian."
But Chen Shuo had never voiced an opinion. He’d seen many overnight sensations come and go, and most couldn’t maintain their momentum, eventually fading away.
So he remained cautious. But he hadn’t expected that Xiao Yan, just as his book was about to go premium, would start a conflict with him.
This tactic—riling up fans to create a war of words—would certainly bring "Zhu Xian" a lot of traffic.
After all, his own reputation as Demon King was nothing to scoff at.
“But perhaps Xiao Yan has picked the wrong person to provoke!”
Of all people, he dared to provoke him?
Chen Shuo had already been feeling a bit resentful toward "Zhu Xian" lately, mainly because the book was getting so much attention—even his own fan group often discussed it.
Recently, his new subscriptions had dropped to nearly half of what they used to be.
He suspected many fans had switched to "Zhu Xian," especially since the book updated so much—after finishing "Zhu Xian," readers hardly had the energy for anything else.
Not only was Xiao Yan stealing his fans, now he was stirring up drama as well?
Chen Shuo snorted coldly and opened his computer’s backend.
Half an hour later.
"Swordsman’s Adventure" updated with a new single chapter, over a thousand words long.
The title: “Words for the Young.”
...
Editorial Office, Flourishing Age Literature.
Kuku wore a cute jacket today, with a butterfly bow from a fan clipped in her hair.
She was happily chatting with her mother on the phone.
“Kuku, have you had dinner yet?”
“No, I’m still at work, Mom. I have to work overtime tonight—there’s a meeting later.”
“Your job is so tough, working late like this. Take care of yourself, buy something to eat first.”
“It’s fine, Mom, I’m not hungry.” Kuku’s face lit up as she added, “Mom, let me tell you—I’m about to make a lot of money!”
“What kind of money? Just take care of yourself, don’t overwork.”
Kuku could tell her mother wasn’t really paying attention. She excitedly explained: “Mom, I signed an incredible author. His book is going premium tonight, and as his editor, I’ll get a huge commission!”
“I’ll buy you a new phone then!”
But her mother refused: “If you earn money, save it for yourself and eat on time—don’t neglect your health. I don’t need a new phone; mine will last a long time.”
Kuku retorted, “Your phone is already so laggy—time for an upgrade.”
Then she lowered her voice: “Mom, listen—if nothing goes wrong, next month I’ll earn at least fifty or sixty thousand from this author’s book!”
“Fifty or sixty thousand? That much?”
“That’s right!” Kuku grinned. “So when the commission comes in, I’ll buy you a new phone!”
“Alright, alright!” Her mother finally relented, full of satisfaction: “My daughter has grown up!”
Zhou Suqing.
She was the team leader of the Xianxia editorial department at Flourishing Age Literature, thirty-two this year.
At that moment, Zhou Suqing held a file in her hand, the click of her black high heels echoing on the floor as she walked.
Even though it was long past office hours, not a trace of fatigue showed on her face.
She opened the door: “Kuku, come on, time for the meeting!”
Kuku turned, saw her team leader, and quickly hung up the phone.
“Coming, coming.”