Volume One: Debut at the Pinnacle Chapter Three: Founding a New School

That night, Chen Jing registered the copyright for “The Birch Forest” directly on his computer. He then began to organize the works from his previous life. Since he had decided to pursue the path of stardom, he naturally planned to make good use of those works. Chen Jing intended to write out everything he remembered from his past life, dividing them into three main categories: film and television, novels, and songs. He wrote whatever he could recall, never feeling bored.

As for whether he might feel guilty about copying works, that was nonsense. After all, they were from a different world—such worries were pointless. Besides, how could a cultured person call this plagiarism? This was borrowing—or rather, paying homage to the works from his previous life. At most, he was merely a porter of culture between two worlds. Yes, he was simply a diligent porter.

In the quiet room, only the sound of Chen Jing tapping away at the keyboard could be heard. Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting his creative flow.

Chen Jing glanced at the caller ID and instantly smiled with deep affection. He answered, switching to speaker mode.

“Brother, I miss you. Do you miss me?” came a soft, ethereal voice from the phone, instantly lifting Chen Jing’s spirits.

“Of course I miss my little Yuan Shan.”

Xie Yuan Shan, the younger sister Chen Jing had watched grow up. Though they shared no blood relation, their bond was stronger than that of siblings.

“Then why don’t you call me?” Yuan Shan’s voice came through with a pout of dissatisfaction. Chen Jing could easily picture her lips pursed at the other end, regretting that he wasn’t there to pinch them.

Chen Jing chuckled helplessly, “Didn’t we just talk yesterday?”

“But today’s a new day!”

Chen Jing had no way to respond to that.

Yuan Shan wasn’t truly making trouble, just acting spoiled. She continued, “Brother, what are you doing?”

“I’m writing a novel.”

“You really plan to be a writer?” Yuan Shan sounded a bit uncertain.

“Yes, not just a writer. Soon, I’ll be singing and making movies—becoming a star.” Chen Jing laughed.

“That’s great! Then I’ll be your number one fangirl,” Yuan Shan said happily. No matter what her brother did, she never doubted him, for she believed there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.

“I’ve always said you’re even more handsome than any celebrity. You’re sure to charm thousands of girls.”

Chen Jing laughed outright, “Really? I never noticed I was that handsome.” He had no resistance whatsoever to his sister’s praise.

Afraid that Chen Jing might not believe her, Yuan Shan quickly added, “Of course! My brother is the most handsome—unbeatable in the universe. Sister Ruoqing thinks so too.”

“Oh? That cold-natured one actually has such a clear view? I’ll have to ask her about it someday,” Chen Jing said, amused.

“Uh… well, Sister Ruoqing told me not to tell you, so you can’t go tattling on me,” Yuan Shan said sheepishly.

They chatted for half an hour, with Chen Jing coaxing her until she was positively radiant.

“By the way, brother, I have a surprise for you soon,” Yuan Shan said mysteriously.

Chen Jing pressed, “Hmm? A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“It’s… a surprise! Hehe, since it’s a surprise, I can’t tell you. If I do, it won’t be a surprise. I’m hanging up now. Bye-bye, brother.” Before Chen Jing could reply, she hung up.

Chen Jing shook his head. “That girl…”

The next morning, after exercising and breakfast, Chen Jing headed out for an appointment—not the meeting with Lin Xi, which was scheduled for the afternoon, but with an editor from Huaxia Publishing.

Some time ago, he had submitted his edited version of “The Condor Heroes” to Huaxia Publishing, and as expected, it was accepted. Today was the day to discuss the contract.

Arriving at the agreed-upon café, Chen Jing walked to the booth they had reserved. Two people were already seated.

Seeing Chen Jing approach, they quickly stood. The older of the two extended his hand, “Hello, I’m Zhou Qing, editor at Huaxia Publishing. This is my assistant, Huang Hao.” Zhou Qing gestured to the other man, who promptly stepped forward to greet Chen Jing.

Chen Jing shook Zhou Qing’s hand and smiled, “Hello, I’m Chen Jing. Editor Zhou, we’ve already become quite familiar online, no need for formalities.”

“Very well, Mr. Chen. Truly accomplished for your age—making us feel our years,” Zhou Qing praised.

Chen Jing waved it off, “Not at all. We younger folk benefit from the shade cast by trees planted by seniors like you. Without your guidance, there’d be no avenues for us.”

“Mr. Chen, you’re truly talented.”

With mutual compliments exchanged, everyone was pleased.

The three sat down, and Zhou Qing signaled the waiter to bring Chen Jing a menu. Chen Jing, unpretentious, ordered a coffee.

Once their orders arrived, Zhou Qing began, “As we discussed, your intention is to sell only the print publication rights and online serialization rights, correct? Would you consider selling all rights as a package? As the largest publisher in the country, Huaxia Publishing will ensure you’re well compensated for any buyout.”

“I appreciate your firm’s reputation and your sincerity. However, I have plans for the other rights, so I can only sell the print and online serialization rights,” Chen Jing replied apologetically.

“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”

“I’m afraid not,” Chen Jing shook his head.

Zhou Qing sighed with disappointment, “Alright.”

With negotiations concluded, Huang Hao handed over a contract. “Mr. Chen, please review the agreement. The terms are just as we discussed online: you’ll receive thirty percent of the profits from the print edition, and the online serialization rights are a direct buyout at five yuan per hundred words.”

Chen Jing took the contract and read it twice carefully.

“Mr. Chen, you should know these are the best terms we could secure for you. After all, you’re a newcomer. Though we at Huaxia Publishing have great confidence in ‘The Condor Heroes,’ it will ultimately depend on the readers.”

Chen Jing found no issues with the contract and nodded, “Don’t worry, I’m confident in this work. Even just the print and online rights will earn you a fortune.”

“Haha, may your words prove true…”

After signing, Zhou Qing transferred fifty-five thousand yuan to Chen Jing—his submission of “The Condor Heroes” had just surpassed 1.1 million words.

Suddenly, Chen Jing thought of something and said to Zhou Qing, “By the way, I hope your publishing house will not reveal too much personal information about me. I don’t want my life disturbed.”

Zhou Qing nodded seriously, “Rest assured, Mr. Chen. We won’t disclose your information. If anyone seeks you out, we’ll consult you first…”

After chatting for another ten minutes, Chen Jing excused himself and left.

Once he was gone, Huang Hao breathed a sigh of relief and joked, “Young people these days sure speak boldly.” Clearly, he found Chen Jing’s confidence a bit much.

“Boldly?” Zhou Qing cast a sidelong glance at his assistant, shook the contract, and asked, “Do you know how our company’s evaluators rated this novel?”

Huang Hao looked surprised, “How?”

“It’s considered to have created a new genre…”

(A tribute: Jin Yong’s “The Condor Heroes”)