Chapter 14: Taking the Opportunity to Flirt

Chu Luoxi’s excitement wasn’t because she now had the chance to witness the master’s growth and perhaps forge a closer relationship; it was because she genuinely loved Bai Yun’s works.

In her previous life, she never had the opportunity to act in any adaptation of Bai Yun’s novels. Sometimes her fame wasn’t sufficient, sometimes she simply didn’t fit the role, and so, she never had any intersection with Bai Yun, let alone a collaboration.

Bai Yun, who was currently stuck on his writing, staring in frustration at the bleak statistics, suddenly heard the sound of a friend request on a chat application. His spirits lifted immediately. He hurriedly switched over, approved the request without even looking at the details, and with a hint of excitement asked, “Hmm, is it a pretty girl?”

Truth be told, when he saw the distinctive avatar, he realized who it was and felt a bit deflated. He regretted not checking the application note. He subconsciously assumed it was a reader coming over after reading his latest chapter, since he had left his contact information at the end, hoping to hear some feedback—even though, realistically, there might not be more than two people reading it.

Chu Luoxi was bewildered, but fortunately she knew a little about this master. “What, pretty girls don’t read novels? I thought highly of you!” It seemed even the great Bai Yun had moments of confusion. From what she knew in her past life, Bai Yun was only writing as a hobby at this stage, a part-time pursuit.

“Heh…” Bai Yun laughed awkwardly and sent an apologetic meme. “Sorry, sorry. So, you really are here because of my novel?”

Hearing his cautious words, Chu Luoxi smiled, lips pressed together, feeling an urge to tease him. She hadn’t just read his work—she knew what would happen later, too. If she told him that, would Bai Yun faint from shock?

Thus, poor Bai Yun was in for trouble. Once Chu Luoxi’s mischievous side came out, Bai Yun was left spinning in circles, thoroughly entertained by her. What surprised her was that Bai Yun, behind his public persona, was even more unique and amusing than she’d expected.

Bai Yun, meanwhile, had no idea he was being toyed with. Instead, he found Chu Luoxi’s occasional comments insightful, helpful to his writing, and even inspiring.

So, two people who had never made friends online, under Chu Luoxi’s deliberate approach, soon regarded each other as confidants, feeling as though they’d met too late.

Several days passed like this. Every day, Chu Luoxi would take time to “chat heart-to-heart” with Bai Yun. After Bai Yun, now familiar with her, began to vent countless frustrations and thoughts to her, she realized that Bai Yun was truly dejected about his carefully crafted work not being appreciated.

Chu Luoxi was struck by a sudden realization: so even masters have moments of such vulnerability! He was even beginning to doubt his suitability for writing, contemplating giving up. She found it baffling—how had he managed to persevere in her previous life? Could it be that comfort from others made him feel even more fragile?

Determined not to let Bai Yun’s future greatness vanish, Chu Luoxi put to use all the psychological counseling skills she’d learned in her previous life, back when her acting career had left her with a fractured personality. She carefully guided the now deeply despondent “master.”

Bai Yun: I understand what you’re saying, and I’ve always wanted to persist. But sometimes I wonder, if I keep insisting and things don’t change, what’s the point? You seem to like it, but I hope you’re not just comforting me.

Chu Luoxi: Seriously, what do I gain from comforting you? Am I crazy? If I didn’t genuinely like your novel, I wouldn’t even bother—probably would’ve just closed the page and moved on when I first saw it.

Bai Yun: That makes sense… So why am I in this situation now? You said the plot’s quite good—where’s the problem?

Faced with the question she had been asked several times, Chu Luoxi frowned, hesitating. She wasn’t unaware of the issues—in her previous life, Bai Yun himself had pinpointed the core problem, which allowed his second novel to soar in popularity. He later even shared this painful psychological journey.

But now, she wasn’t sure if she should tell him directly. After all, hearing it from someone else is never the same as realizing it yourself. What if it affected his future path? So, she always skirted around the issue. Fortunately, Bai Yun was mostly venting, not truly seeking an answer from her.

As a reader and an author, perspectives on a novel differ. Bai Yun never expected Chu Luoxi to understand the intricacies. He just hoped that, from her point of view as a reader, he might gain some inspiration.

Not to mention, his current story barely had any comments. And ninety percent of those were just random chatter, with little meaningful feedback. There was precious little to learn from them.

After several days, Chu Luoxi was the only one who had praised his work and added him as a friend. Naturally, he placed some hope in her. Bai Yun often felt that Chu Luoxi seemed to understand him deeply, perhaps even more than his so-called fans. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have felt such a strong sense of kinship in such a short time.

Chu Luoxi hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering before finally typing out a few sentences—her thoughts as a reader, hoping to offer Bai Yun a hint.

Some processes need to be experienced; she couldn’t spell it out directly, or it would surely cause problems. Besides, she couldn’t be too obvious—there’d be no way to explain it.

At the very least, she hoped Bai Yun would grow step by step, not have his progress forced.

In her previous life, what made Bai Yun a master was his meticulous plotting, tightly woven storylines, and the suspenseful atmosphere he created—even though his works weren’t mysteries, they surpassed many in tension. He had an uncanny ability to grasp the reader’s psychology: at moments of excitement, he never let the mood cool, and when it was time to ease off, he didn’t prolong the tension, always balancing everything perfectly. He skillfully guided the emotional flow, making his stories impossible to put down.

It was precisely this mastery of plot that made his stories, which weren’t particularly innovative in concept, feel fresh and gripping.

Now, with online literature blossoming in all directions and topics thoroughly explored, it’s almost impossible to pursue originality. For web authors, the true challenge lies in their control of the narrative.

Bai Yun was a standout in this regard, and from his very first novel, he demonstrated this ability. His rise to fame was neither surprising nor accidental—it was purely a result of his talent.

The reason his first novel failed was the immature expression and descriptions. Too many set-ups and foreshadowing, but not enough clarity, leaving readers feeling burdened and exhausted.

If adapted to television, the visual cues would make everything easier to understand, which is why, after Bai Yun became popular, his first failed novel was the first to be adapted—and it achieved unexpectedly good results.

Bai Yun only realized the key to this after much reflection, and in his second novel, paid special attention to narrative clarity, unleashing astonishing energy almost instantly.