Chapter 13: The Future Prodigy

Being bluntly called a chatterbox, Leng Lu felt a tinge of “heartache,” once again feeling he had let down his family name. But before he could finish reflecting, he heard Xiao Jingxuan, unexpectedly, mention investigating a certain girl. Instantly energized, he quickly lifted his head and looked around. “Where? Which girl caught your eye? From the Imperial Film Academy?”

He spun around like a top, and finally at the end of the road spotted a “woman” dressed in red. His heart leapt with delight, but just as he tried to get a better look, the figure turned the corner and, in the blink of an eye, vanished completely.

Dejected and frustrated, Leng Lu turned back only to see Xiao Jingxuan about to disappear as well. With a shiver, he hurried after him, keeping a close watch. “Xiao Jingxuan, Young Master Xiao, Almighty Xiao, don’t mess with me, will you? Just a glimpse of a back, like a fleeting shadow, and you want me to investigate? Am I to check how many beauties in red there are at the Imperial Film Academy? Or are you assuming these beauties never change outfits…”

On and on he went, unable to stop once he started. The topic had long since derailed, but with his wealth of experience, he was sure this was just Xiao Jingxuan’s new way of messing with him and paid it no real mind.

As for the three who returned to their dormitory, Liu Yujia was still basking in the happiness of being close to her idol, while Chu Luoxi and Zhu Xueshuang happily played on their computers. With no lights-out tonight, they felt incredibly content.

Naturally, none of them gave much thought to tonight’s welcoming party. Chu Luoxi was reliving her university days, catching up on classes she’d missed in her previous life, and enjoying the leisure of the present. In her former life, she hadn’t really felt regret in the end, but she had been utterly exhausted, both in body and spirit. Now, this rare carefree life with nothing to worry about was something she absolutely couldn’t let go to waste.

Only those who have experienced loss truly know how to cherish what they have. If all goes as planned in this life, she would re-enter the industry with a different attitude and approach, living the life she truly wanted. Yet, it could never compare to the freedom of student days, so seizing every minute to enjoy it was the only wise path.

“Xiaoxi, when did you become a novel enthusiast?” Liu Yujia’s desk was right next to Chu Luoxi’s, so a glance to the side was enough to see what she was up to. Recently, she’d often seen her engrossed in reading novels, seemingly losing track of time.

“Uh, I always have been. I was always out chasing after opportunities before, so I never had time to read.” Chu Luoxi raised a brow, a little embarrassed to admit that this hobby had actually started in her previous life, when she’d spent long, idle hours waiting around on film sets.

With so many web novels out there, she’d later become so busy that she barely had time to breathe, running from film sets to events, leaving no time for reading. Now, she no longer felt any shortage of books. Though she occasionally spotted some familiar names, it didn’t hinder her enjoyment.

Their conversation meandered on, with no one seeming intent on sleeping early. Outside, the lively noise of the night showed that few had sobered up from the evening’s festivities; excited voices filled the air.

Most of Chu Luoxi’s attention was on her novels when, all of a sudden, her hand trembled and she nearly dropped the mouse. The peculiar reaction caught the attention of her two roommates.

“What’s wrong?” Zhu Xueshuang reflexively asked, though she wasn’t really worried. Nothing serious could possibly happen in this situation.

“It’s nothing, just a shiver.” Chu Luoxi replied calmly, though inside she was in turmoil, a storm raging in her heart that she simply couldn’t calm. She had just seen a name—one that would later become famous throughout China, even making waves in the global entertainment industry.

Bai Yun. Chu Luoxi blinked, rubbed her eyes, and confirmed she hadn’t misread. To avoid mistaking someone else who had chosen the same pen name, she restrained her excitement and clicked into his published work. After browsing for a bit, she was certain—there was no mistake.

At this moment, Bai Yun was just a novice web novelist, his first work barely a few tens of thousands of words, utterly unknown and overlooked. But Chu Luoxi knew well: this unremarkable pen name would, after his first book flopped, soar to fame with his second, becoming a legendary figure overnight and quickly rising to the ranks of the greats.

It was worth noting that web fiction had already become oversaturated in these times. To stand out among thousands of writers was no easy feat. To become a recognized master was even harder.

Within two or three years after she graduated, Bai Yun’s status as a grandmaster was already unshakable. He began transitioning into physical books and screenwriting. Ironically, the first of his works to be adapted for film and television was the very novel that had initially flopped so badly it brought him to tears.

Who would have thought that a story that failed as a novel would, after being adapted, achieve tremendous success, instantly cementing Bai Yun’s reputation as a gold-medal screenwriter—one whom countless stars clamored to work with, a red-hot, sought-after name in the industry.

From then on, every drama he released would launch a new batch of stars, making him a true hitmaker even the audience followed by name. He injected fresh blood into the stagnant film and television market and led the way in opening up a new super-market for web literature.

Though many web novels would later be adapted into films, causing a wave of popularity, none of their authors would ever surpass Bai Yun’s fame, even if some of their works enjoyed better market reception. But Bai Yun had achieved something unique: audiences remembered his pen name and followed his projects by name—a feat no one else could match.

Unable to contain the excitement in her heart, Chu Luoxi pressed a hand to her chest. She had never imagined that her leisurely novel reading would net her such a big fish. She had not known that the future legendary Bai Yun had already started out here and now.

Moreover, he was… well, struggling so miserably. Looking at the ignored recommendations and the paltry, not-even-three-digit click count, Chu Luoxi felt lines of black appear on her forehead, tears streaming down her face. So this was how the early days of a legend looked!

Truly, it was heartbreaking. With nearly a hundred thousand words and such bleak statistics, Chu Luoxi couldn’t help but admire Bai Yun’s persistence. Not only did he see this flop through to the end, but he also had the courage to keep trying—no wonder he eventually succeeded!

Full of admiration and reverence, Chu Luoxi noticed that Bai Yun had left a personal chat ID in one of his chapters. With trembling hands, she sent a friend request.

She couldn’t help herself—this was just too unexpected for her to remain calm.

Once Bai Yun’s second book was released and shot to fame overnight, such a chance to add the great master as a friend would be almost impossible.

It was well known that Bai Yun was a man of deep loyalty; even after reaching the dazzling heights of the entertainment world, he remained wholeheartedly devoted to those who had helped or befriended him during his low points. He was principled to the core: if you had a connection, everything was negotiable, but if you crossed him, not even the biggest stars or the richest bribes could sway him.

Honestly, in today’s world, such people were almost extinct. Yet, it was precisely this quality that made Chu Luoxi admire him all the more. Perhaps it was only with such a soul that one could create so many truly classic works.