"Urgh... that reminds me of the Qingxin Stir-Fried Slime you fed me last time. My stomach hasn't been great lately, so let's skip it for today. Just some normal dishes, please."
Hu Tao's expression shifted, and she hastily refused.
Consequently, Xiangling cast her gaze toward Fang Qiu.
Fang Qiu felt a sudden chill down her spine and hastily refused as well.
Jueyun Chili with Hydro Slime...
She couldn't even imagine it; no wonder Hu Tao looked like she had seen a ghost.
Wait, Hu Tao isn't afraid of ghosts.
Fortunately, Xiangling didn't insist. She simply took out the regular menu with a disappointed look.
"Hehe, Fang Qiu, it's my treat today. Order whatever you like."
Hu Tao handed the menu to Fang Qiu as she spoke.
Fang Qiu didn't stand on ceremony with Hu Tao either, casually ordering a few dishes that were inexpensive, delicious, and came in large portions.
Whatever she couldn't finish could be packed up, securing her dinner for later.
Xiangling cooked with incredible speed; within moments, several dishes were brought to the table.
Jueyun Chili Chicken, Flash-Fried Filet, Qingce Stir Fry, and Northern Smoked Chicken.
It had to be said, Xiangling lived up to her reputation as the top chef of Chihu Rock; her skills were truly astounding.
This completely extinguished any thought Fang Qiu had of developing modern cuisine in Liyue.
Business at Wanmin Restaurant was booming; the place was packed. Sitting at a table with Hu Tao, she attracted the attention of quite a few people present.
Fang Qiu felt entirely uncomfortable, though Hu Tao was long accustomed to being watched.
After the meal, Hu Tao bid a hurried farewell to Fang Qiu, saying she had to attend to today's orders.
Fang Qiu packed up the leftovers, said goodbye to Xiangling, and relied on her memory to make her way toward Wanwen Bookhouse.
Logically speaking, her writing experience from her past life told her that choice was far more important than effort.
Market research is a mandatory task for a novelist when starting a new book.
Unlike her predecessor—a total flop who only knew how to bury her head and write without doing market research or reading contemporary works.
It was honestly a miracle that her predecessor had managed to scrape by on novels at all.
She walked all the way to Wanwen Bookhouse.
Wanwen Bookhouse is a bookstore in Liyue. The owner is a married woman named Jifang. Although her business philosophy is rather laid-back, she keeps up with trends; at the very least, not a single bestseller is missing.
Of course, the most important thing is that you can read samples here, and only buy the full book if you like it.
For market research, reading samples is sufficient.
After greeting the proprietress, Fang Qiu began selecting a few recent hot-selling books.
"Tianheng Anecdotes," "Records of Jueyun," "Bamboo Forest Moonlight," and the top of the bestseller list, "Legend of the Lone Sword," among others.
Sitting at the wooden table beside Wanwen Bookhouse and reading for a while, Fang Qiu formed a general impression of the popular books in Liyue.
"Tianheng Anecdotes" is a poetry collection, while "Records of Jueyun" is similar to the "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio" from her past life, telling stories of ghosts and adepti...
...
Time passed, and soon it was evening.
Having read through over twenty openings in one go, Fang Qiu had a rough understanding of the Liyue novel market.
Liyue's fiction scene was indeed in its early developmental stages, but a definite market had already formed.
To rise abruptly as a new force, one needed to take an unconventional path.
Therefore, Fang Qiu decided: she would write a "healing" novel!
The first book—I choose you.
"Your Lie in April."
Having made up her mind, Fang Qiu returned all the books under the strange gaze of the owner, Jifang.
Few people read so many books without buying a single one.
It wasn't that Fang Qiu wanted to freeload.
She had no money; what else could she do?
Once she had money, she would come back and pay for the tickets.
Returning to her room, Fang Qiu didn't even bother to heat up the leftovers packed from lunch; she picked up a brush, ready to start writing immediately.
However, the moment she lifted the brush and wrote the first character, staring at the crooked, wobbly character for "Four" on the paper, Fang Qiu fell into deep contemplation.
I... don't seem to know how to use a writing brush...
Time slowly drifted by.
Fish-belly white light brightened the sea horizon, and the morning light shone through the wooden window into the room.
The white-haired woman let out a long breath and placed the brush back on the rack.
A thick pile of manuscript paper was stacked on the table, the handwriting upon it no longer describable merely as scribbles.
It could only be called chicken scratch—barely recognizable as words.
Although her predecessor knew how to write with a brush, she herself apparently did not...
This is too hard to master.
"Looks like after I earn some money, I'll have to find a scribe."
Fang Qiu stretched her waist, looked at the manuscript on the table, and nodded with satisfaction.
Although the handwriting was a bit ugly, after a full night of struggle, she had successfully localized part of the content of "Your Lie in April."
Next up is the submission.
However, before that, she needed a good sleep.
Looking at the haggard white-haired woman in the bronze mirror, Fang Qiu sighed and dismissed the idea of going to the Liyue Publishing House immediately.
With her sickly body, staying up all night was already an over-performance because she got too excited writing and forgot to rest.
Ignoring food, Fang Qiu collapsed onto the bed to sleep.
So tired...
To think she was someone with a Vision, yet staying up one night made her this sleepy...
Fang Qiu lay on her stomach on the bed, but before she could fall asleep, she felt her breathing obstructed.
Helpless, Fang Qiu had to forcefully turn over, subconsciously curling her body to sleep on her side.
This girl is clearly a sickly invalid, so why is her chest so big? She can't even breathe sleeping on her stomach...
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