☆ MV Chapter 15

Translator: Xiaoxi

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The next day was the weekend.

 

While the sky gently brightened, it started to rain outside. While the soft pitter-patter of Spring rain moistened the ground, the spacious room’s atmosphere became more tranquil. In the centre of the room, in amongst the blue covers of the bed, nestled a tall, slim man. As the light from outside slid through the blinds, his brows wrinkled, wresting a pillow, he slammed it on his face—

 

Zhou Chuan was so infuriated by a certain white-eyed wolf [footnote] TN: means ungrateful [/footnote] that he got hungry, and after ordering a midnight snack, he got bloated. Seeing as he couldn’t sleep, he could only open his computer to write manuscripts until the wee hours of half past three before yawning and crawling into bed to sleep. 

 

The above actions are the norm for professional writers in their daily routine. 

 

The concept of sudden death wasn’t something to be feared. 

 

At least everyone was like this; it could be said that inspiration is only found late in the night. This is especially the case for other normal human beings who are awake during the day to play and chat. It is only when others go to sleep at night, and he is too bored, that he remembers that he has serious business to do…

 

Zhou Chuan and Jiang Yucheng are the ideal examples of this. 

 

Jiang Yucheng also needs to be calmed at 1 am before anything happens, as his editor, even if there was anything urgent in the morning, would also need the geographical advantage to go to Jiang Yucheng’s house to smash the door. Otherwise, they could only fretfully hang themselves with worry… When compared with Zhou Chuan its slightly better since Zhou Chuan is raising a little ancestor who has an elderly person’s daily routine of going to bed at 10 pm and waking at 7 am for canned food. 

 

In today’s case, it was exactly 7 am, even though it was a rainy day that was well suited to sleeping in, Zhou Chuan, who was enjoying the sound of the pitter-pattering of rain outside, felt the bed dip heavily on one side. A soft, fluffy head huffed before tearing away the covers while continuing to huff at his arm before jamming itself in… Zhou Chuan half-heartedly scratched at the dog’s head with his eyes closed. Dissatisfied with his response, the dog used its wet nose to bump at Zhou Chuan’s chin, and the pillow that was covering Zhou Chuan’s head was then forcibly shoved into Er Gou’s face: 

 

[I refuse to stir, even if it’s an old dog.]

Er Gou started to use its giant fist-sized paws to poke at Zhou Chuan’s stomach. 

 

The man hissed, regretting leaving the door to the bedroom open while he slept. Whilst hugging his stomach, he rolled over mumbling: [ You’re not eating any canned food yet, let me sleep a little longer, I’ll give you a roast chicken for lunch.]

 

After Zhou Chuan spoke, he pulled the covers over his head, the world becoming calm again. 

 

He initially thought he could peacefully sleep until noon before waking up to see Old Miao, but he thought he wouldn’t be closing his eyes for long before the dog that was sent away came back. This time, it jumped onto the bed, its two paws landing on top of the covers that covered Zhou Chuan’s stomach. This violent stomp made Zhou Chuan feel like he was gonna lose his mind. Tearing open the covers to express his dissatisfaction, Er Gou threw his phone in front of him without care or consideration. 

 

Zhou Chuan: …

 

Getting up in a daze, he habitually grabbed a tissue to rub off the dog saliva on the bottom of the phone; he could clearly see an incoming call from Mr Zhou Gu Xuan. 

 

In that moment, the eyes that were full of sleep, a trace of gloom and hesitation flashed through his eyes. With great hesitation, he picked up the phone, placing it near his ear, whilst responding with a quiet [Wei?]. He then changed back to his unique lazy young master tone of voice before saying: 

 

[Dad? It’s so early in the morning, why is it that both you and the dog won’t leave me alone?]

 

The person on the other side of the line was quiet for a moment before starting their usual lecture…Zhou Chuan listened, nodding dazedly in reply. 

 

“Me last night? I slept at ten thirty ah…What do you mean you saw me post on Weibo at 11? You also know how to use Weibo, ah? ….Ohh, my younger brother taught you? Tell him for the next three months, don’t ask me for allowance, oh, it’s nothing, teaching him a lesson on minding his own business.” 

 

“What new book? [Book of the God Luohe]? Pei Pei [footnote] TN: onomatopoeia for spitting/sarcasm[/footnote], the sun is rising from the west today? Are you expressing your interest in this? Ah? Yes its signed with Yuan Yue Publishing. The little editor they sent is too clingy. I was afraid that if I didn’t sign with her, she would hang herself on the tree in my yard and I wouldn’t know where to toss the body…aiii yes ah. Are you saying that you and that almost bankrupt-rubbish publishing company that you collaborated with for half your life didn’t even give you some face to give me a little more publishing royalties?” 

 

“……….Who are you kidding? Stop yelling, stop yelling.” 

“Have a meeting? Not going.” 

 

“Why would I go? Isn’t it just writing that thing? Ah? The third-rate writer of fast junk literature….You keep talking about your things. Don’t talk about things halfway and look at my face, you’ll get high blood pressure.”

 

The man’s voice was low and magnetic.

 

He buried his face into the covers, allowing the soft, feathered coverlet to slide from his shoulder down his abdominal muscles. He stroked Er Gou’s head while crossing his legs. With a few words, the old man on the other end of the line was roaring that he was being perfunctory with his responses. In the end, he didn’t forget to remind the two old people to take care of their bodies, whilst casually ignoring how the other end of the line sarcastically said: 

 

“The day you finally think about writing some decent things is the day I will live until 100 years” sort of things….

 

Three minutes later, Zhou Chuan hung up the phone. 

 

In the end, he couldn’t fall asleep. 

 

After getting out of bed, having a shower and walking out of the bathroom, the two tea coloured eyes that were no longer burdened with sleep deprivation became more gentle and lazy. An unknown gloom covered his eyes, perhaps due to the lack of sleep or some other reason. 

 

Today, his mood wasn’t too good. 

 

…..

 

This burden will be borne by Old Miao, who thought he had managed to take advantage. 

 

With a sunny mood, he had arrived at the Editorial Department early, after brewing the expensive coffee that he treasured, he opened his computer to watch a movie. In the time it took him to finish half a cup of coffee, he could hear the sound of footsteps outside…

 

Raising his head to look, he could see a man dressed in blue leisure wear standing outside. He was dressed in a flattering deep blue coloured jacket with three white crossbars on the right sleeve and on the right trouser leg, making him look tall and slender. When Old Miao got up to greet him, he was holding a black umbrella, seemingly as if he had just folded it away. 

 

On the ground, there was a small puddle of water from the droplets. 

 

Casually leaning the umbrella against the door, Zhou Chuan walked in, coming up beside Old Miao to casually look around before his gaze finally paused on the seat next to Old Miao’s seat. Last time he was here, there was no one sitting there, but now there was a whole pile of things. The most conspicuous thing was the drinking cup with a small lid. On the small lid stood a banana man cartoon with the white parts revealed and smiling evilly. 

 

Zhou Chuan: “…”

 

Even with using his toes to think, he would know whose seat this was. He smoothly pulled out his seat, glancing at the monkey-printed seat cushion before extending his legs to sit down. Turning to Old Miao and going straight to the point, dispensing greetings: 

 

“Yu Yao called me yesterday, she said that you guys are fighting for the proofreading rights for [Book of the God Luohe], and it was a giant mess for the editor-in-chief’s signature?”

 

Old Miao probably didn’t think that he would be so direct and was surprised, letting out an ‘ah’ noise. At the moment, he couldn’t react quickly enough. 

 

After a few moments, he nodded: “Yes, that’s right, I actually wanted to talk to you about this matter today. This is a small issue that occurred in our editorial department over this book.” 

 

The man raised his chin slightly, indicating for him to continue: “What do you mean?” 

 

Old Miao kept his smiling face, a vast difference from the passive-aggressive attitude he gave Chu Li. 

 

“You see, it’s like this… [The Book of the God Luohe] is Yuan Yue Publishing’s first trial attempt of non-traditional literary themes. The upper management has put a lot of pressure on us to make sure the book performs well. That’s why we cannot be slack and relax even from the proofreading stage, and would need an experienced editor to do it…” 

 

Zhou Chuan: “Oh?”

 

Zhou Chuan extended his hand, his attention elsewhere while he played with the cup with the evil banana character. 

 

Old Miao continued: “Under me, I have two available editors for the first and third proofreading. One of them is Chu Li, whom you have met, and another is called Xiao Niao… She has already had experience in production and proofreading, so for safety purposes, I was going to give the proofreading tasks to Xiao Niao. When Chu Li heard this, she was not happy, making a ruckus about wanting the proofreading rights to the book.” 

 

Zhou Xhuan: “Oh”

 

Old Miao immediately started to sigh and moan in annoyance, seeing that Zhou Chuan didn’t express his opinion; his attention was focused on fiddling with the evil banana toy:

“Da Da [footnote] TN: Dada was previously ‘great one’ from now I’ll stick to the pinyin for titles like this and Laoshi (used to refer to writers) [/footnote] please make a fair judgement, for a person who has just arrived for barely two weeks, and hasn’t made it through probation to be an official editorial intern, how would they be able to take on such a important task?”

 

“I’d also like to say ah.” Zhou Chuan laughed, with a look of listening carefully. “Is there another reason?”

 

“Of course! Xiao Niao and I are also both big fans of Laoshi. [footnote] TN: I’ll stick to the pinyin for titles like this and Laoshi (translates to teacher) (used to refer to writers) [/footnote] From Laoshi’s debut novel [The Records of Eastern Anecdotes], we already started worshipping you.” 

 

Lao Miao continued. “Sometimes, I think ah, at the age of seventeen, your first work was already promising, with people calling you the young writer with the greatest potential. At the age of nineteen, three works had already been released, and joining the Provincial Writers Association at such a young age. You’d be a successor to your family’s literary legacy…Laoshi, you must be a genius!!!” 

 

Old Miao’s last few words got louder, almost as if they were words from the heart…

 

To be honest, he genuinely wanted to use Zhou Chuan’s stellar resume to flatter him…who would have guessed that the misplaced flattery landed him in trouble instead. 

 

After listening to the round of bullshit, the man’s hand that was fiddling with the toy suddenly paused. His long eyelashes lowered to hide the flash of gloom in his tea coloured eyes. He extended his fingers, putting the banana toy back on the cup. 

 

The man scoffed, his tone sarcastic: “Successor of the family of literary talent?”

 

As if savouring his next words, the man raised his head, his smile suddenly fading, his tone sharpening: “Old Miao, I have released quite a few books, having interacted with quite a few editors and know that in this industry there are some unspoken rules. For example, whoever signs the book will be the main editor, ah?”

 

Old Miao was stunned.

 

“And from the start of the project, to the proofreading, to the design of the cover, until the packaging of the book and marketing promotion, these are all tasks that are responsibilities of the main editor, right?” The corners of Zhou Chuan’s lips raised, looking at the stunned Old Miao from the corner of his eye. 

 

“[The Book of the God Luohe]’s main editor is you?”

 

“…”

“Did I say it was you?”

 

“……….”

 

“No damn way, what made you think that you could start assigning the person in charge of the follow-up work, ah? Have you even read the book?”

 

“…..”

 

“Old Miao ah, it took you more than half a month,h and you couldn’t even secure the contract, how long did the little editor under you take?” Zhou Chuan extended his legs, with a slight smile: “Three days.”

 

Three days? Wasn’t it only just a few days ago that she…Old Miao’s eyes widened. Zhou Chuan extended his hand to pat Old Miao’s shoulder: “The little lady didn’t want to step on your face, so she especially called me to tell me not to reveal that the contract was signed too quickly. She preserved your dignity, you couldn’t even thank her and even wanted to snatch her Editor in Chief role. This isn’t too good, is it?”

 

Within moments, the situation changed. From the harmonious atmosphere, it changed in an instant; the Dashen instantly changed face on a whim. [footnote] TN: Dashen used to refer to authors/writers by fans [/footnote] 

 

While Old Miao was lost in his turbulent emotions, Zhou Chuan stood, brushing off the remaining droplets of water on his sleeves. 

 

“A genius talent is not necessary, the old biddy’s at the writers association were giving my old father face when they pulled me in…I, Zhou Chuan, am a third-rate writer of fast junk literature–– the words of my old man at home…”

 

After Zhou Chuan finished speaking, he thought for a bit before laughing: “Although there is still some dignity in being an essayist, for me to have today is also from the effort of writing one word at a time. For those who want to use their crooked ideas to sit on my shoulders to cover the sky, that is not allowed.” 

 

The smile on the man’s face was scarier than Yan Wangs [footnote] TN: Yan Wang, god of the underworld, a really scary dude[/footnote] 

 

Old Miao: “…”

 

At this time, upon hearing Zhou Chuan’s sarcastic statement about being a third-rate writer of fast junk literature, Old Miao suddenly thought of an unconfirmed rumour in the industry…Zhou Chuan and his father Zhou Guxuan could not agree with each other regarding writing. 

 

With his face green then white, he finally understood why the man in front of him made things difficult for him. He quickly stood up: “Da Da, those things I just said before didn’t have that meaning. I really do like your books…”

 

Zhou Chuan waved his hand, signalling for him to shut up. 

 

Old Miao expressionlessly slid into his seat; from the looks of it, he couldn’t help but hate his big mouth. 

 

Zhou Chuan shoved the chair back under a certain someone’s workplace again. 

 

“I think my intentions are quite clear; if you want to play office politics, it’s not something I can manage, but don’t put any funny ideas on me.” He said plainly, “It doesn’t matter who is responsible for the first and third proofreading, and the second proofreading will also be assigned to others. If Yu Yao cannot make the decision, I will find another higher-up to make the decision.” 

 

“…….” The man’s eyes lowered, “I’ve finished talking, see you later.” 

 

After speaking, and without looking at Old Miao, he walked out, opening the big door to the Editorial Department. From outside, the little pitter-patter of rain became a big rain, the cold breeze blew into the man’s heart, gently blanketing the burning irritation. Raising his head, he saw a person in the hall tossing all the water off like a dog. 

 

Zhou Chuan: “…….”

 

Zhou Chuan: “Didn’t bring an umbrella when you left the house?”

 

“Forgot.”

 

After hearing a sound, the little lady who had her head lowered replied out of habit. Suddenly, she realised that something wasn’t quite right and stiffly turned her head, meeting Zhou Chuan’s eyes and pausing. 

 

Zhou Chuan bit his lip, with a show of meanness: “It’s the weekend, everyone in the editorial department is all running to do overtime. What sort of bewitching potion did the Yuan Yue Publishing management give you, ah?”

 

Chu Li, with a stunned expression, pointed behind him at the Editorial Department: “Zhou Chuan Laoshi? Ah? I came here to pick up documents…”

 

…On the other hand, its the hidden rules made by Old Miao? With a face as dark as Bao Gong. [footnote] TN: he looks angry/ scowling [/footnote].

 

Without bothering to acknowledge the curiosity on Chu Li’s face, the man glanced at her briefly before grabbing his umbrella to walk out. What bullshit about getting documents, it can be seen that she saw Old Miao’s WeChat Moments and came running to interrupt things….

 

The man complained in his heart, but stopped in his steps, and as he was walking down the hall to the stairs, he was called out to. He turned his head, meeting a pair of dissatisfied eyes. 

 

Zhou Chuan, knowingly asked: “What do you want?”

 

“…………… Zhou Chuan Laoshi, I know you and Old Miao spoke yesterday, he posted a Moment.” Chu Li stood at the top of the stairs, half her body hidden behind the wall, hiding her nervous face. 

 

“But could you please consider me a little, just consider me, ah, give me this opportunity. I will definitely work really, really hard and make sure to do a good job on your book….”

 

Chu Li’s voice got smaller and smaller. 

 

In the end, it sounded softer than a peep from a mosquito. 

 

Zhou Chuan’s mind accidentally slipped back to that night when she was crying, wanting to yell at people while passing the blame to an innocent L Jun…

 

The man slightly squinted; he was already not in a good mood, but a bad idea suddenly came up. Raising the corners of his lips, he laughed: “Puchi, consider you…? Okay, ah, what would you exchange for it?”

 

As he spoke, he used his flirtatious, roguish tone, after speaking he waited for Chu Li to jump out and yell at him for being a hooligan. Who would have thought the kitty in the corner when she heard those words, her eyes brightened. Slipping out from around the corner, she said, “With my four years of professional expertise from majoring in Chinese Literature!”

 

Zhou Chuan: “…..”

 

The rain outside the Publishing house became louder, making hua hua noises.

 

Standing at the stairs, the man raised his head slightly, looking at the little lady who was bent at the waist, talking to him: that face was full of certainty, as if she was using all the courage of a graduate. 

 

The man’s gaze moved.

 

Restraining himself from making more jokes, he looked at her and suddenly smiled, his voice calm without any ripples: “Okay, now, I will consider you then.”

 

………….

Chu Li went into the office and made a copy of [The Book of the God Luohe] and was just thinking about how not to let it get wet. But as she got to the stairs, she saw a long black umbrella leaning against the wall, the droplets still clinging to the material.

 

Chu Li walked to the end of the hall, leaning over to pick it up.

 

……

 

That night, Yu Yao announced on the work group chat that the first proofreading and the third proofreading were to be done by Chu Li, and the second check was to be done by her personally. 

 

The book finally had an Editor in Chief, quoting the industry rule that whoever signs the book is the main editor; Chu Li was responsible for the task. She hoped that she would work hard as this was the most important task at hand, and could not disappoint the publishing house. 

 

The author wants to say something: The male lead has come online.

 

Xixi Theatre: 

 

Old Miao: (partying on Zhou Chuan’s sore points)

Zhou Chuan: (gritted teeth, fist clenched) 

Chu Li: (stepping on Old Miao’s face) Laoshi consider me

L Jun: (sly smile)

Zhou Chuan: Okay…wifey XD

 

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