Chapter 31: Commencing the Serialization of Wuxin: The Monster Killer
Chapter 31: Beginning the Serialization of "Wuxin: The Monster Killer"
People from their hometown were deeply attached to their roots and would almost always spend the Spring Festival at home. However, Li Jingkun finally managed to persuade his family to spend the holiday away this year.
Consequently, they had to visit relatives and exchange New Year greetings and red envelopes in advance.
Once everything was settled, the family spent two or three days touring Guangzhou before flying to Shanghai. They planned to stay in Shanghai until around the 28th day of the lunar month before heading to Beijing for the New Year.
Beyond the sightseeing, Li Jingkun had some professional business to attend to, the first of which was a visit to the offices of "Young Buds" magazine to meet the editorial staff.
His main objective was, of course, to meet his "boss," Hu Yunying.
Hu Yunying was in her early thirties, wore glasses, and looked much like the photos Li Jingkun had seen in news reports. They had known each other online for over a year, but this was their first time meeting in person.
Hu was quite pleased to see him. After introducing him to the other editors, she took him to meet Mr. Zhao, the editor-in-chief.
When she suggested treating him to a meal later, Li Jingkun insisted that he should be the one to host.
"That's fine too; you're earning more money than I am lately," Hu Yunying said with a smile.
Upon learning that he was traveling with his family, she suggested they all eat together.
"Maybe not?" Li Jingkun replied. "It’s our first 'internet friend meeting'—having my family watching would be quite awkward."
Hu Yunying burst into laughter. Since it wasn't quite dinner time yet, the two found a Western-style restaurant to have coffee and dessert.
They talked at length about writing, "Young Buds," and the rising stars Han Han and Guo Siwei.
Both were incredibly popular at the time. Guo Siwei had founded the youth magazine "Tiny Times," which was selling exceptionally well and had launched the careers of many young writers whose popularity rivaled Li Jingkun’s.
Han Han’s blog traffic was staggering, with countless people waiting daily for his essays—it was hard to imagine that so many people would enjoy reading essays back then; a decade or so later, people would lack the patience for even a micro-film, preferring to scroll through ten-second short videos.
Since both Han and Guo had emerged from "Young Buds" and considered Hu Yunying their "boss," discussing them came naturally.
Eventually, the conversation shifted to Li Jingkun’s future.
"Guangdong is a very developed region, and both Guangzhou and Shenzhen are thriving," Hu said. "However, if you intend to pursue a path in culture and literature, it would be best to come to Shanghai or Beijing."
For the Li Jingkun of the past life, Guangzhou and Shenzhen were the places he knew best; he was well-versed in the reforms and developments of those cities. If he wanted to follow a commercial path and simply make money, staying in Guangdong would certainly suffice.
But as Hu Yunying pointed out, if he truly wanted to commit to a literary career, moving north might indeed be better. At the very least, the north possessed certain academic institutions that the south currently lacked.
"I’ve been considering it," Li Jingkun said. "I might choose a university in Beijing when the time comes for the college entrance exams."
***
In the second semester of his second year of high school, March 2007, the first volume of his second novel, "The Phantom River Map of Qingming," was published with an initial print run of 120,000 copies. After personal income tax, his earnings exceeded 200,000 yuan.
The fame of the post-80s teenage writer "Li Tangwang" continued to grow, as did his fanbase among middle and high school students, gradually becoming a unique memory of their youth.
"I didn't realize you were so stubborn," Hu Yunying messaged him, referring to his rejection of the magazine's proposal to delay the publication.
The response to "The Phantom River Map of Qingming" had been exceptionally positive. The magazine had hoped to continue the serialization and only publish once the final few tens of thousands of words were written.
But Li Jingkun didn't want to cheat his readers. He had promised a March release, and he intended to stick to it (another reason being that he needed the royalties from the publication).
Moreover, he had already produced the manuscript for his third novel, so he wasn't afraid of failing to convince the magazine—if worse came to worst, he could find another publisher. It wouldn't be difficult.
Thus, they agreed to publish the first volume of "The Phantom River Map of Qingming" in March and begin serializing "Wuxin: The Monster Killer" in April. They then negotiated the release date for the next book.
The magazine wanted to wait a year, but Li Jingkun pushed for an October release. They compromised on December.
"It’s a matter of principle," he told her. "Dragging it out until only twenty or thirty thousand words are left, making my readers buy another book just to finish the story—that would be ruining my reputation."
***
After the second semester began, the first priority was recording two songs.
Liuchuan City lacked a recording studio, but Jiedong City had one, recommended by the photographer who had helped them with their videos, as they worked together frequently.
However, most of the group felt a bit disappointed upon arrival; the studio was small and staffed by only two engineers.
"We also work with a band, if you happen to need one," said one of the engineers, a shorter man in his thirties, as he greeted them and introduced their equipment and pricing.
In reality, they rarely took on projects for bands or professional singers. Most of their work involved recording dance tracks or background music for companies, government departments, or schools for holiday events.
After all, they were in a third or fourth-tier city, where the music and art scenes were minimal.
In fact, only a few first-tier cities in the country had enough musicians to support a significant number of recording studios.
While the studio didn't look grand and the decor was modest, the equipment was decent, and their past work sounded fine.
To Li Jingkun, it was sufficient. After all, they weren't trying to produce a professional-grade album. He was satisfied, so they handed over the songs, scores, and other materials to check for any issues.
The cover songs presented no problems; the focus was mainly on "Ten Thousand Sorrows."
Both engineers were quite surprised that these high schoolers had already produced the accompaniment and vocals themselves.
"So, we just need to refine it to the style you want?"
"Pretty much. Just mix the tracks. If it sounds good, we can work together again."
With professional engineers and equipment, the recording process wasn't difficult; the main factor was the quality of the performance.
Li Jingkun knew exactly what effect he wanted, and since they had practiced the song many times, the recording went smoothly.
It took them a few days to finish both songs. Importing them into their video project was a matter of minutes.
Once the songs were successfully recorded, the members of the Aurora Band were ecstatic, as if they could already see their rise to fame.
It was trendy to post songs on websites, so they quickly uploaded their tracks to two or three music platforms, eagerly waiting to be heard.