The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Chapter 100

Xie Wei's good fortune did not disappear with his death.

The movies he had filmed in the past were approved for release due to changes in government policies. The production company did not arrange for theatrical release but released them directly online, where word of mouth exploded overnight.

Xie Wei became hugely popular, dominating entertainment news headlines for three days straight and being praised as a superb actor.

However, just when the public was most interested in him, he died.

Xie Wei suffered from depression and paranoia, taking medication for years. His condition had been under control. But for some unknown reason, when he decided to take revenge, he stopped taking his medication.

After that, the guilt from murder and the relief from retaliation, perhaps some other complex factors, eventually led him to choose this path.

The world did not know the twists and turns behind it. They only lamented the passing of a generational talent.

Everyone sighed, if only they had known Xie Wei earlier, if more people had supported him, perhaps he would not have come to this.

But there were no ifs.

Good things in this world are fragile, colorful clouds scatter easily and glazed glass breaks.

Xie Wei was like a shooting star, brilliant yet ephemeral. Before the affection could fade, he fell amidst everyone's grief.

In people's minds, he was frozen in his most perfect moment.

Both online and offline, people organized memorial events for Xie Wei, the scale far exceeding the memorial for Shao Meng. Every app homepage featured related content. Even in remote rural areas, as long as there was a smartphone, people would know Xie Wei.

It was safer to be a fan of the dead than the living.

Xie Wei's Weibo followers increased by tens of millions.

And the last post he made was from five years ago promoting a movie.

The comment section was flooded with tears.

Everyone was very sad, as if they had lost the most important friend, the best actor, and the most admirable brother.

Jian Jing was still perfectly still.

She was busy writing at home.

The word count for "Roses, Gold and Assassins" was around 20,000. She had completed nearly eighty percent during the holidays, the only part she repeatedly deliberated over was the romance.

She had been very bad at writing it before, unsure of how to convey the hazy, breezy feelings between two people. But now she knew how to write it.

The girl's feelings toward the assassin, from distrust to trust, from suspicion to reliance, gradually progressed. But she was full of hatred, never realizing her feelings had changed unknowingly. By the time she looked back, it was all in the past.

The assassin's feelings toward the girl, from being cold towards his employer, to sympathizing with her, and finally because of this "humanity", finding his soul again. He was no longer a cold, heartless killing machine, and began to have his own likes and dislikes.

He decided to avenge the girl, but not for money, rather to protect her.

The girl's life should not be like this, her later years ought to be bright and radiant, not wasting away behind bars.

The assassin changed plans, not wanting the girl involved. He embarked alone.

Before leaving, he left her a bouquet of unnamed wildflowers, as a goodbye.

The book contained no confessions, no sensationalism. The ending was as orthodox as could be. The criminal's misdeeds were brought to light, and the assassin paid with his life for the blood on his hands.

The girl's life went on.

She returned to normal life, went to university, and it was all over.

Jian Jing wrote the last 30,000 words in a week. She completed it in one go each time, but looking back, still felt her skills were lacking, unable to fully capture the turmoil in her heart with just a few strokes.

But the word count could only decrease, not increase.

Too explicit, too passionate, the traces would be too obvious, as if impatient to spoonfeed the reader mouthfuls of saccharine sweetness, cloyingly sweet.

Then what about subtly rolling surges? Like a diamond, colorless yet dazzling brilliant, wouldn't that be even more touching?

No, that wouldn't work either.

There was no such deep love after all.

Diamonds form under high temperature and pressure, only after being hammered hundreds of times could they be created. They hadn't even expressed any affection, how could their love be stronger than diamonds?

Love was not so casual and cheap, readily available.

Jian Jing thought, it should be dewdrops instead.

Strolling through the forest at dawn, a dewdrop falling on the tip of her nose by chance, translucent and pure, transient and illusory, gone in a flash, leaving just a faint trace on her cheek.

Cool and moist, very beautiful yet also sad.

Such encounters stemmed from coincidence, never to happen again.

Jian Jing deleted and revised until the moment she finished the manuscript, when she finally put it down.

She did regret it later on. If she had known his illness relapsed, she shouldn't have said so much nonsense, just taken him to a hospital, maybe he could've been saved.

But on second thought, she felt there was no meaning to it.

Xie Wei had deliberately neglected his own illness, allowing himself to be swallowed by darkness.

He had lived too wearily.

For ten years, he had borne too much. Even with his popularity today, time could not turn back to 2010. Many people and things had become set in stone, irreversible.

He persevered until today, just to prove he had not let anyone down, and was worthy of others' care and trust.

With his goal achieved, he could finally relax.

He could no longer move forward.

Jian Jing could not forget the hint of relief in his smile before he passed away.

It comforted her somewhat, knowing that in that moment, he was happy and carefree.

She sent the first draft to Kang Mu Cheng.

Kang Mu Cheng already knew her plans, it didn't seem odd then. But looking back carefully at the manuscript, his heart lurched.

He knew Jian Jing too well.

If nothing had happened, she would never have been able to write such delicate, gentle passages.

Thinking this, the words on the manuscript seemed to dance about, he couldn't focus on reading them at all. He deliberated for a long time before calling Director Huang.

"Director Huang, yes, this is Kang Mu Cheng." His tone was calm. "Nothing, just letting you know the contract is done, shouldn't be a problem. How are things on your end?"

Director Huang had a bellyful of bitterness: "I was going to recommend Xie Wei, and got Flying Birds to finally agree, but then he...sigh, now I'm at a loss too."

Kang Mu Cheng asked: "What happened with Xie Wei?"

"His depression relapsed." Director Huang didn't know much more than others. "He looked fine before, who could've expected him to be gone in the blink of an eye."

He sighed for a long time, before suddenly asking: "By the way, is Jian Jing okay? I see she hasn't posted anything on Weibo or Moments lately, is she alright?"

Sometimes, the biggest irregularity was nothing happening at all. Director Huang wasn't stupid either, or rather, their instincts were sharper than anyone's.

Perhaps everyone had noticed the subtlety between Jian Jing and Xie Wei when they left the hotel that day.

Kang Mu Cheng said: "She's been busy writing a new book, why do you ask?"

Director Huang hesitated for a bit, thinking the less said the better: "No reason, just randomly asking. As long as she's fine."

Kang Mu Cheng didn't probe further, but he understood in his heart already.

Xie Wei.

After he left, what happened between Jian Jing and Xie Wei?

*

Ding dong - while Jian Jing was watching Xie Wei's last movie, the doorbell rang.

She thought it was Kang Mu Cheng, but the video showed an obese, orange cat face instead.

Jian Jing laughed. She quickly opened the door: "Why is it you?"

"Shh." Jiang BaiYan lowered his hat brim, one hand cradling the chubby Pudding, the other holding large and small bags. "Come in first."

Jian Jing moved aside.

He snuck in and finally breathed a sigh of relief, putting down the heavy cat cakes and shaking out his arms: "So heavy, Pudding gained another two catties, I'm going crazy."

Jian Jing poured him water: "How did you know where I live?"

"I asked Chairman Kang." Jiang BaiYan drank it all in one go, finally taking off his hat and wiping imaginary sweat. "Teacher Jian Jing, I've come to beg you to save me."

Jian Jing: "?"

"I'm going to film a drama in Ice City." Jiang BaiYan put his hands on his waist and sighed. "My friends used to help me feed Pudding before, but now they can't. If left alone, it won't move and just gets fatter. The doctor says it has to lose weight." He was reluctant to leave it at a pet hospital, so could only beg for help.

He bowed ninety degrees: "Teacher Jian Jing, please save me!"

Jian Jing: "..." If they didn't know better, they'd have thought he was entrusting an orphan.

"I don't know how to raise cats." She didn't dislike cats, just didn't know how to keep them.

Jiang BaiYan said: "I've prepared the cat bed, litter box, scratching post, cat carriers, everything. I'll go downstairs to get the cat litter and food from the car, it'll definitely be fine."

Jian Jing folded her arms: "What if I disagree?"

Jiang BaiYan raised Pudding's front paws, putting on a miserable and pleading expression: "Please, take me in."

Jian Jing: "..."

"Please, I'm begging you," he lowered his voice humbly, with tears in his voice, "Our Pudding doesn't make noise or trouble, he's gentle and cute, and other than eating he has no other bad habits. You won't find a more adorable cat than Pudding."

Although she knew he was acting, Jian Jing still couldn't help laughing. "Alright, alright."

"Come on, Pudding, kowtow to your godmother." Jiang BaiYan pressed the cat's head down, bump bump twice. The orange cat was really good-tempered, dumbly letting him manipulate it, without even showing its claws.

"Don't bully Pudding." Jian Jing had already automatically taken on the role of guardian, unable to resist snatching the kitty and cuddling it in her arms, stroking it a few times.

Jiang BaiYan: "Then I'll go move the litter box."

He obediently made two trips, moving the kitten's litter box and food over, then started installing a cat tree, placing it against the wall: "Teacher Jingjing, you should let Pudding exercise more, he can go out for walks."

Weighing the cat in her arms, Jian Jing agreed: "Alright."

"I'll be filming for about two months, I'll come back soon." Jiang BaiYan gave her his schedule.

Jian Jing suddenly came back to her senses: "You took a new role?"

She hadn't been looking at her phone the past couple days, but she knew the battle over Devil 2 had already begun. Jiang BaiYan taking a role now was equivalent to giving up.

"Yes." Jiang BaiYan didn't make excuses, frankly admitting it.

Jian Jing just said "Oh", without commenting further.

But he continued speaking on his own: "Teacher doesn't want to ask why?"

"You must have your reasons," she said, "You don't need to explain to me."

Jiang BaiYan said: "But I want to explain."

"Then go ahead," she smiled.

Jiang BaiYan became serious: "Because, you already have the best demon, the best hunter." The light in his eyes dimmed slightly, "I can't compare to him."

Jian Jing shook her head: "Don't say that, Xie Wei..." She thought for a moment, then earnestly said, "Good things take time, it took him ten years to attain his current acting skills. You're only a few years old."

The same goes for acting skills. Jiang BaiYan debuted young, started from a high point, and is currently popular, so having this level of acting is already not bad.

But what about Xie Wei? He has experienced all kinds of cold and warmth in human relationships, the vicissitudes of life.

"I understand what you mean." Jiang BaiYan said, "But I don't have a chance to surpass him anymore, right?"

Jian Jing was silenced for a moment.

"Then I'll get going first, goodbye Teacher Jingjing." He didn't drag things out, putting his hat back on and about to leave, but hesitated and said at the door, "Also..."

After much deliberation, he finally painfully spoke: "Our Pudding's...poop is a bit stinky, make sure to turn on the fan before cleaning it up."

Jian Jing: "Pfft..."

Jiang BaiYan fled in panic.

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