Chapter 9: Creating a New Book

While eating, Jiang Zheng pondered over the matter of the novel. So far, he had no clue about how to tackle this task. Writing a novel was no simple feat; although web novels didn’t demand exquisite prose, they required a remarkable imagination. As things stood, Jiang Zheng hadn’t even settled on a genre.

During his lunch break, Jiang Zheng planned to take a nap. He had afternoon classes, and if he didn’t rest now, he’d have no energy for them later. But Liu Hua, the third in their group, wasn’t sleeping; he sat at the computer, engrossed in something.

Zhou Quanyi asked, “Third, aren’t you going to nap? What are you watching?”

Liu Hua smiled, “Can’t fall asleep. I’m watching old domestic animation.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Zheng looked over immediately and saw Liu Hua watching ‘The Legend of Rainbow Cat and Blue Rabbit.’ That was indeed an old domestic animation, and nowadays, it wasn’t easy to find. Jiang Zheng remembered it vividly; he’d been one of those young boys glued to the television back then. Unfortunately, the show had been reported and taken down. For a long time, Jiang Zheng hadn’t seen it again. Now, seeing it once more stirred memories deep within him.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossed Jiang Zheng’s mind.

He could write a multiverse novel.

It was a popular category, with many bestsellers. This type was easy to write but hard to achieve real success. The ease lay in not needing to build an entire world from scratch; the plot could develop atop the original storylines, and character creation wasn’t too taxing. Compared to constructing a wholly original universe, this fanfiction-style multiverse was much simpler. For a novice like Jiang Zheng, it was a friendlier starting point.

Yet, so many had written in this genre that most ideas were worn out—finding real success was tough. The most popular worlds had been explored repeatedly; fresh concepts were scarce, and readers were growing tired.

This made it difficult to stand out.

But Jiang Zheng wanted to focus on domestic animation—a multiverse of homegrown cartoons. Few had attempted this approach.

With ideas bubbling in his mind, Jiang Zheng lay in bed to mull them over. There was only one afternoon class, and after it ended, he returned to the dormitory. Refusing Zhou Quanyi’s invitation to play games, Jiang Zheng sat before his computer, deep in thought.

He had some ideas but still hesitated, unsure whether he should truly write this kind of novel. Before long, Jiang Zheng made up his mind. He’d give it a try. Whether it worked or not, he’d only know after attempting it; if he never tried, he’d never find out. If the novel took off, that would be ideal. If not, it didn’t matter—he’d treat it as practice. At worst, he’d switch accounts; after all, who didn’t have a few aliases online these days?

Jiang Zheng began writing at his computer. He didn’t plan to post it online immediately, especially the opening chapters, which were his calling card and needed careful revision before uploading.

The moment he started, Jiang Zheng fell into the zone. Inspiration sparked ceaselessly in his mind, his thoughts flowing smoothly. His typing speed soared, his fingers nimble and swift. In just over an hour, he had written six thousand words. That speed was impressive—averaging a hundred words per minute, just under a second per word.

When he finished, it felt as though he’d stepped out of some trance.

He examined the six thousand words he’d written; by the standard of two thousand words per chapter, he had three chapters. In these opening chapters, the protagonist entered the first world and encountered the initial predicament.

Reading through, Jiang Zheng was astonished; he doubted whether he’d truly written it himself. The prose far surpassed his usual efforts—not only fluent but so immersive that it drew the reader in, placing them within the story. This level of skill had been beyond him before.

Aside from the prose, the plot was tightly woven, with no superfluous chatter. Even Jiang Zheng himself was curious about what the protagonist would do next.

The system’s skill was indeed powerful!

Jiang Zheng mused silently. He knew the system’s temporary skill was at work; otherwise, his own abilities would never have achieved this result.

For the first time, confidence stirred within him.

Perhaps this novice really could accomplish the goal of writing a hit novel in three months.

Seeing the quality of his chapters, Jiang Zheng decided to commit to this book. He registered a writer’s account and created a new novel.

When it came to naming his new work, Jiang Zheng hit a snag. Because duplicate names weren’t allowed, some titles he’d initially planned couldn’t be used. Forced to reconsider, he thought for a long time and finally settled on a name.

“Traversing Domestic Animation: I Became the Most Cautious Villain”

This title was available, and Jiang Zheng felt a slight relief—at least it could be used. As for the title itself, he really had no better option, since his original ideas were all taken.

He copied his chapters over and uploaded the first one. The remaining chapters he didn’t rush to publish, since his account hadn’t yet passed review. He’d wait for approval before posting the rest.

With this done, Jiang Zheng checked the time—it was already dinner.

Just then, Zhou Quanyi called him to eat, and Jiang Zheng agreed.

After dinner, he returned to the dormitory, impatient to check his account. The review had already passed. Actually, passing the site’s review was quite easy—as long as the content wasn’t sensitive or plagiarized, approval was routine.

He uploaded the remaining two chapters.

Afterwards, Jiang Zheng exited the site and began outlining the next plot.

For the first world, he chose “The Legend of Rainbow Cat and Blue Rabbit.” The protagonist’s identity? Black Little Tiger.

Jiang Zheng moved the timeline further back, giving himself more creative space. The protagonist’s first predicament was an attempt on his life.

As the son of the greatest villain, Black Heart Tiger, Black Little Tiger’s environment was perilous; many wanted him dead.

As he wrote, Jiang Zheng became absorbed, the storyline in his mind gradually forming a coherent web. His typing speed was astonishing. When he finally stretched, intending to rest, he was startled to discover he had written over ten thousand words.

At this point, Jiang Zheng decided not to continue; balancing work and rest was the proper way. He needed to organize the upcoming plot and plant the necessary foreshadowings.

Glancing at the evening sky, Jiang Zheng rose and went out to exercise.

Two days of training had made him feel physically stronger.

The system’s rewards weren’t useless; though the process of earning them was a bit tricky, the results were good.

Jiang Zheng arrived at the sports field, where today’s crowd was larger than on the weekend.