Today marks the long-awaited release of my new book, and the feeling is surprisingly unfamiliar. When my previous book went on sale, I don't recall writing any special announcement; it felt like it was simply released without much fanfare, and I certainly wasn't as anxious as I am now.
Back then, I was a complete novice, utterly clueless. Before the release, I was constantly calculating the potential income from average subscriptions, imagining how much money 3,000 or 5,000 monthly subscriptions would bring. My head was filled with grand visions of promotions, salary increases, marrying a wealthy woman, and reaching the peak of my life.
However, my lofty aspirations collided with a harsh reality. I can't quite recall the exact number, but I believe the initial subscriptions for my previous book were only around 400 or 500.
Only later did I learn that such an initial subscription count was actually quite respectable for a new author. But at the time, I was unaware, and the vast disparity between reality and my expectations felt like a bucket of cold water poured over my head, instantly cooling my enthusiasm.
Nevertheless, given the circumstances, I had no choice but to persevere. After all, I began writing with significant passion, creating something I truly enjoyed, and I was determined to see it through.
Yet, passion inevitably wanes over time. The solitary nature of writing, devoid of consistent positive feedback, gradually eroded my enthusiasm. Coupled with an incredibly demanding job at the time, there were days when I was simply too exhausted after work. I'd think to myself, "I'll just put it down for today, get some good rest, and pick it up tomorrow."
Little did I know, it's far easier to put something down than to pick it back up. Some long-time readers might recall that period when I ceased updates for several months, right?
Later, once my work stabilized, there came a day when I suddenly felt restless. I decided I couldn't simply abandon it. After all, as a reader, I detest unfinished novels, and I didn't want to become the kind of author I disliked. Furthermore, this story was set in a world I cherished, and I didn't want it to die prematurely. So, I resumed writing.
I continued for roughly another year, coinciding with the national crackdown on piracy in 2016. Gradually, the book's performance improved: more readers joined, the comment sections became more active, and discussions within reader groups flourished.
Unfortunately, this positive trend didn't last. With successive 'clean internet' crackdowns, censorship became increasingly stringent. My previous book was taken down several times—in fact, on a few occasions, it was completely removed. It was only through my editor's persistence, combined with my relentless, round-the-clock revisions of countless previous chapters, that the book was repeatedly pulled back from the brink of deletion.
Even after I made the content extremely 'clean,' with virtually no controversial elements, its existing reputation and a problematic title meant it was still frequently reported and flagged. For the past few years, I've essentially received notices for major revisions every three to four months, and minor ones every one to two months, a process that was truly exhausting.
At that time, I even doubted whether I could bring the book to a safe conclusion. Given the prevailing circumstances, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least to wake up and find the book blocked the next day. This was a common occurrence on my platform, and it had already been delisted from various other distribution channels.
Given this situation, both the platform and my editor advised me to start a new book sooner rather than later. Readers with a good memory might recall I first mentioned starting a new book approximately two years ago.
However, I was always unwilling to let my first book, into which I had poured so much effort, die prematurely. I insisted on finishing it, which consequently led to repeated delays for the new book.
The new book was delayed for nearly two years. Then, just two months ago, the platform could no longer wait and urged me to release it. As a result, I had no choice but to work on both the old and new books concurrently.
My editor repeatedly inquired about the completion date of the old book, but I kept pushing it back until he no longer trusted my estimates. Eventually, he issued an ultimatum. Even then, I shamelessly managed to delay it by another half-month before finally completing it. I am truly grateful to the website and my editor for their immense patience over these years.
The reason for constantly delaying the completion was my reluctance to rush the ending. I wanted to fully develop all the planned plotlines and give the book the ending it truly deserved.
During that period, I was under immense pressure. So, on several occasions, when I saw readers who clearly weren't subscribers or active participants frequenting the comment section to criticize the ending, I became truly incensed. It was precisely to avoid a rushed conclusion that I repeatedly withstood pressure and delayed the book's completion. Yet, despite my efforts, I was still lambasted by so many, and crucially, almost all of these critics were consuming pirated copies of the book.
For years, I had never once lost my temper or argued with readers, but on that occasion, I truly couldn't hold back from responding directly.
Fortunately, the book was finally completed. At that moment, I experienced a complex mixture of emptiness and profound satisfaction, finding it hard to believe that I had actually succeeded in finishing it. It felt as though an eternity had passed.
Having finished the old book, I immediately transitioned to writing the new one, and now, at last, the day has arrived for its release.
Unlike the carefree ignorance with which I approached my first book, I am now extremely anxious and feel immense pressure.
This is because I am no longer a new author; I understand the significance of a book's performance after its release. Beyond its direct impact on my income, it also determines the subsequent promotional resources provided by the platform and third-party channels.
Just like in the novels you read, success often begets further success. The strong tend to grow stronger, while the weak grow weaker – that's simply how this world operates.
My new book, *The Land Key Immortal*, currently has only about 3,500 collections. Based on industry experience, the final number of paying readers typically falls into the hundreds. While an exceptionally high collection-to-subscription ratio might push it past a thousand, that probability is very slim. With bad luck, it could even be as low as one or two hundred. Therefore, when I mentioned in a previous chapter that I was extremely nervous, I was being entirely serious.
For my previous book, I recall asking for monthly votes a few times, but I rarely requested subscriptions. I've always taken a 'go with the flow' approach to subscriptions, even expressing understanding for readers of pirated versions. After all, I myself used to read pirated content, and life is inherently tough for everyone.
My consistent philosophy has been, "Those who can afford it, please contribute financially; otherwise, simply being present and showing support is enough."
Consequently, while my last book performed well across the internet, the proportion of paying subscribers was remarkably low. Hundreds of thousands, at minimum, read the book online, and it even consistently ranked in the top ten of Baidu Index for Wuxia and Xianxia later on, yet only a tiny fraction actually paid for subscriptions.
At its peak in 2016, during the intensified crackdown on piracy, my book saw an average of about 4,000 daily subscriptions. However, as piracy resurged, compounded by various content regulations and my own inconsistent update schedule, the number of active subscribers dropped to just over a thousand.
Now that my new book is launching, I can no longer afford to be as 'Zen' or indifferent as I once was. Given the current grim industry landscape, if this book fails, I may never recover. It's possible that in a couple of years, I'll have vanished from the scene, entirely phased out of the novel writing profession.
The launch of this new book genuinely requires your support. If circumstances permit, please consider subscribing, even if it's just for the initial release. Thank you all sincerely.
Over the years, many readers have told me they're hesitant to download the Zongheng novel app, preferring instead to send me private red packets. However, the impact of these methods is vastly different. The platform uses its own data to allocate subsequent resources and exposure. Therefore, I kindly urge everyone to subscribe directly on Zongheng to show your support. Thank you once more.
The "Zongheng Novel" app is available for download on all major app stores. It offers convenient automatic login options using QQ, WeChat, Baidu accounts, or mobile phone numbers.
Please note that updates will likely be available in about half an hour, as I need to wait for the website to open VIP access during business hours. Thank you for your understanding.
[6 minutes ago] Chapter 149: Got Addicted
[11 minutes ago] Chapter 148: Mirror Flower, Water Moon
[16 minutes ago] Chapter 147: Magical Flashlight
[21 minutes ago] Chapter 146: Sudden Surge of Mutation
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