Chapter 59: A Mother's Advice

With Mai Le’s introduction, Wu Chaoyang browsed through all the information online in a general sweep before finally saying, “Allen, show me the launch website and the backend!”

“Alright!” Galen stepped forward; Wu Chaoyang and Mai Le immediately made space for him. He opened the launch site, Reading Window, on the computer.

It was also Galen’s first time logging onto this website’s page since uploading two consecutive volumes last time. The dense data flooded his vision, surprising even him. Below, the number of comments was vastly different from before; requests for updates were as numerous as cow hairs. Of course, there were still some critical remarks, but they no longer targeted the book’s odd genre or questionable morals—instead, they attacked the author’s character, accusing him of abandoning the story without reason. Galen was being vilified!

Some claimed he was locked up in prison; others said he’d died in a tomb while grave robbing; some insisted he was on the run after being pursued for tomb robbery; still others declared he’d been arrested by state cyber police and implicated in major security cases.

Clearly, Galen’s initial posting of this book had been a casual act, but now it had touched many nerves.

Skipping these comments, Galen logged directly into the author’s backend. He hadn’t forgotten his username or password, but as soon as he opened the backend, the computer suddenly lagged.

“What’s going on?” Wu Chaoyang’s face was full of surprise. The company’s computers were all high-end; any one of them could handle e-sports games without issue—how could logging onto a webpage cause lag?

Mai Le was even more rattled, trembling, “Lun, could it be the cyber police are really tracking you? Are they coming to get you?”

Galen had no idea what was happening. Suddenly, the computer screen began popping up a frenzy of small windows, all reading: You have a new message!

There were over fifty messages in total, most sent by the website requesting him to sign a contract, some likely private messages from staff, and others sincere, moving words filled with heartfelt sentiment.

“You scared me! I thought the cyber police were after you!” Mai Le stroked his chest, calming his nerves.

Galen moved away from the computer, “You take a look!”

Wu Chaoyang browsed the page, occasionally frowning, sometimes nodding, and after a while looked up and said, “So, what do you plan to do with this book?”

Galen laughed, “Wu, if you have any ideas, just say them!”

“Do you have any more chapters?”

“Yes! The work is already complete!”

“Good!” Wu Chaoyang clapped his hands. “Alright, send me the rest of the content later. I’ll handle it for you.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Galen trusted him completely.

He nodded immediately, “Alright! I’ll leave it to you, Wu!”

Mai Le interjected anxiously, “Hey, Allen, can you let me read the rest of the book first? I’ve already read it four times, just waiting for you to update!”

Galen smiled, about to reply, but Wu Chaoyang spoke first, “Don’t rush, Mai. I’m planning to put you in charge of this!”

“Really?” Mai Le exclaimed joyfully, “Haha! Thank you, Wu! And thank you, Allen!”

...

Leaving the company, Mai Le personally drove Galen home. He was so excited along the way, continually asking Galen questions about Ghost Blowing Lamp.

“Allen! Have you really robbed tombs yourself?”

“No!”

“Then how did you come up with those plotlines? And those chants, slang, terms like tomb raiding and ‘zongzi’—did you make them up?”

“Not exactly.” Galen was at a loss, so he said, “There are people who do this back home. I heard their stories when I was young.”

“Oh…”

Mai Le nodded, then asked, “How much content is left?”

“Over a million words.” Galen rubbed his nose. Ghost Blowing Lamp from the other world had two volumes; since he was using it, he might as well merge them into one. As for some historical details absent from this world—like the Cultural Revolution or Red Guards—he’d treat them as fictional. After all, no one knew the book was from another world.

“Wow! Over a million words?” Mai Le’s eyes lit up. “Looks like I’ve got plenty to read!”

When they arrived, Mai Le got out with Galen at the foot of the apartment building, not forgetting to ask for the next chapters.

“Alright, I’ll send them to your email tonight!”

By now, dusk had set in, and the summer evening had long passed dinnertime.

Galen was thinking of Chen Yingying, who was home alone, so he said goodbye to Mai Le and hurried upstairs.

As soon as he opened the door, a wave of burnt smoke greeted him.

Galen was immediately choked, “Cough, cough! Is the house on fire?”

The next moment, Chen Yingying rushed out from the kitchen, wearing an apron and a mask. Her exposed eyes were red, with faint traces of tears.

“What happened?” Galen hurried over to wipe her tears.

“It’s all your fault!” Chen Yingying took off the mask, pursing her lips in a pitiful expression, “You came home so late. I was starving and wanted to make myself some food…”

Galen couldn’t help but laugh, but the next second, his smile faded.

He sniffed hard; the burnt smell was growing stronger. He frowned, “What are you making?”

Without waiting, he dashed into the kitchen. The gas stove’s wok was covered, but smoke was billowing out.

“Why didn’t you turn on the exhaust fan?”

Galen quickly switched it on and lifted the lid, immediately stepping back.

“What…is this?”

Staring at the blackened mess in the pan, Galen quickly shut off the gas and poured a scoop of cold water into it.

“This…this was leftover lunch…”

Chen Yingying stood timidly at the kitchen door, not daring to speak up as she looked at Galen.

Galen was speechless. He stirred the mysterious substance in the pot, blinking through the smoky haze. Even with the exhaust fan on, the fumes wouldn’t clear, so he had to open the window.

Night breeze swept into the room; the two stared at each other.

“Pfft!”

Seeing Chen Yingying’s frightened little face and tear-streaked eyes, Galen burst out laughing. “Alright, go wash your face. I’ll cook.”

“Okay!”

Chen Yingying nodded nervously and ran off.

Surveying the kitchen’s chaos, Galen sighed helplessly. Well, he’d just have to do it himself.

After nearly forty minutes of effort, two bowls of plain noodle soup sat on the table.

Chen Yingying poked at the poached egg on her noodles, murmuring, “Lunlun… I’m so stupid. I can’t even reheat leftovers…”

Hearing “Lunlun,” Galen involuntarily shivered. Such a sugary nickname gave him goosebumps.

“Uh, it’s alright. You’ve never cooked before. Take your time.”

“I know!” Chen Yingying’s voice was barely a whisper. “But I still want to learn how to cook. I’ve got nothing to do these days. Maybe I should learn.”

“Do you think you can?” Galen chuckled.

“Maybe…” Chen Yingying wasn’t sure, but insisted resolutely, “But people need to live independently someday, so I have to learn to cook!”

“Alright then!” Galen shrugged, smiling, “Anyway, this is all we’ve got at home—just don’t blow up the place!”

“I could start by using an induction cooker!”

Chen Yingying suddenly brimmed with confidence, “Tomorrow I’ll go out and buy one!”

“Uh…sure.”

Galen felt bitter inside. After seeing today’s blackened mess, he really didn’t have much faith in Chen Yingying learning to cook. But he still had to put on a supportive smile—since she wanted to learn, he couldn’t discourage her.

After dinner, Chen Yingying insisted on washing the dishes.

Galen let her. Just then, his phone rang.

He picked it up—his mother was calling. He answered with a smile, “Hello, Mom!”

“Hey! Allen, how have you been lately?”

His mother’s voice came through with concern.

Galen said, “Pretty good. How’s everything at home?”

“All’s well. Oh, I wanted to ask you something. I went to withdraw money today, and there was an extra two hundred thousand in my account. Did you send it?”

“Yes!”

Galen hadn’t told his mother about his current situation yet, planning to wait until his career was settled before explaining everything.

“Why so much money?”

His mother’s tone suddenly became stern, “Are you doing something illegal?”

“No!” Galen replied, “I just got some big performance gigs lately, so I earned a bit more.”

“Nonsense!” his mother said. “You said the same thing last time! How could there be so many big gigs for you?”

Galen laughed, “It’s the Golden Week holiday—lots of tourists in the capital, so there are more performances!”

“Really?” His mother remained skeptical. “By the way, did you get into trouble online? Your brother told me he saw you arguing online.”

“No! Mom, come on, you still don’t believe me?”

Galen felt guilty. He had indeed argued online, and hadn’t dared to check his microblog lately. He wasn’t afraid of fake experts or pseudo-celebrities, but those black fans attacking him. The endless, infuriating comments would upset even the most broad-minded person.

“Really not?” His mother was half-convinced. “I don’t know much about the internet, but listen, whatever you do, don’t break the law, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah! Got it!” Galen said quickly.

“And keep us updated about anything. Your dad and I have more life experience than you and can offer advice. Don't go stirring up trouble on your own without us knowing! Understand?”

“Understand! Understand!”

“Alright then! I heard on the news the smog in the capital is bad lately. Take care of yourself!”

“Okay! Okay!”

“That’s it then. Keep the money for yourself! Your siblings’ tuition is covered. You sent tens of thousands—it’s enough for the whole family for a year! Remember to drink hot water, don’t drink cold just because it’s hot outside…”

As his mother rambled on, Galen’s eyes blurred.

After hanging up, he steadied himself for a while before his mood settled.

He logged onto his microblog again, only to suddenly widen his eyes…