Chapter 132: A Mudslide in the Literary World

Sun Wu, who shared his name with the legendary military strategist behind The Art of War, was a programmer whose daily hobbies included watching game streams or listening to girls sing online.

Having worked the night shift, he had only just returned home that morning. After waking up in the afternoon, he felt too lazy to leave his bed, so he brought his laptop onto the mattress and began to browse.

There weren't many big-name streamers online at the moment, and the rest held no interest for him. As Sun Wu aimlessly wandered from room to room, a notification suddenly popped up: "Forget-Me-Not has gifted Zhang Chu 1 Rocket. Click to enter the room and open the Fish Ball treasure chest!"

Free Fish Balls were too good to pass up, and he was curious to see which streamer this "whale" was watching, so he clicked the link.

To his surprise, the streamer in the room wasn't on camera. There was no voice, only the rhythmic clatter of a keyboard. Most importantly, the streamer was actually writing a novel!

"Which big-shot author from a web novel site is this? To attract so many viewers—it’s absolutely terrifying!"

Sun Wu checked the viewer count. There were already over eight thousand people, and a steady stream of newcomers was being drawn in by the rockets.

Squinting at the screen, he was stunned. Was this for real? How could someone writing a Chinese novel suddenly switch to writing English in a document right beside it?

"Is the streamer really writing a novel, or are they just copying from a document already written outside the computer? If it’s real, that is damn impressive!"

"Which site is this posted on? I need to bookmark it and tip them."

"Is he writing the same novel? If not, that’s even more incredible!"

Writing an English novel was a flex; the viewers could only catch a few words here and there, making it nearly impossible to understand the narrative.

Just then, a fan of Zhang Chu’s stepped in to explain: "Great Master Zhang Chu isn’t posting this online yet. The English one is Sherlock Holmes, and the Chinese one is Diary of the Journey to the West."

As line after line of English text appeared on the screen, Sun Wu was completely won over. He dumped all his recharged balance and collected Fish Balls into the chat.

Internet information travels fast. Once Zhang Chu switched back to Chinese, he saw the viewer count had surged past ten thousand—a glaring anomaly among the sea of game streamers.

The chat was flooded with comments from awestruck viewers; the few trying to discuss the plot were completely drowned out. Many had read novels, but few had seen how they were crafted. Zhang Chu was opening their eyes to a whole new kind of spectacle.

A stream couldn't last forever; it was a gimmick that worked only because he was the only one on the entire internet doing it.

After about an hour of writing, Zhang Chu finally spoke to his audience: "Thank you all for the gifts and for keeping me company. That’s all for the novel today. If I stream again, I’ll let you know in advance. See you all later!"

When Zhang Chu ended the stream, many viewers let out a collective sigh of disappointment, yet they were still buzzing with excitement, eagerly recommending the experience to their friends.

Even Sun Wu found it hard to believe he had spent over half an hour watching someone write. He hadn't read the earlier chapters, yet he found himself captivated by the stubbornness of the Bull Demon King and the persistence of Princess Iron Fan. It was fortunate he hadn't seen the earlier chapters where the Gold and Silver Horned Kings invented binary—as a programmer, he would have surely cracked up.

...

"Well, well. Who knew streaming could net me two or three thousand yuan? How do I even withdraw that?"

Zhang Chu chuckled. As a newcomer to the streaming world, he hadn't expected to earn so much.

The English version of Sherlock was nearly halfway done, and Diary of the Journey to the West was 80% complete. Only about 40% had been serialized online, meaning he had a massive stockpile of chapters. No wonder his readers in the chat were clamoring for him to release his drafts—he clearly had plenty, yet he was holding back. If they hadn't known before, they certainly knew now, and they were bound to give him a hard time.

Zhang Chu stood up from his chair, stretched his neck, and looked out from his balcony toward the distant Yanda University campus, letting his eyes and body relax.

On the web, many who followed his links to Douyu found the stream already offline. His dual-language, dual-document writing session had already become an urban legend.

Fortunately, many had recorded segments, which began to circulate widely online.

"I was shocked!" one post read. "They say Zhang Chu is a breath of fresh air in the streaming world, but he’s a landslide in the world of literature. Have you ever seen an author livestream his writing? Have you ever seen an author work on two books at once? Have you ever seen an author write two different works in English and Chinese simultaneously? If not, click here and see for yourself! [Video]"

"Monkey Thumb Exclusive: Mind-blown! Who knew you could write novels like this? Zhang Chu is showing off his writing skills—the English Sherlock and the Chinese Journey to the West, written simultaneously. What kind of brain does he have? Come and witness it!"

"Liu Quanyou: I’m on my knees. The world of geniuses is truly beyond us mortals. Switching between two books and two languages while chatting with fans—he's a god!"

"Little Wild Sister Loves to Complain: My worldview has been overturned. Are all writers this terrifying?"

"I’m Too Pure: I was struggling to write a few hundred words for an essay, and then I saw this video. I just wanted to cry. Why must you bully us like this..."

Famous bloggers on Weibo shared the video. Those who had missed the live stream were caught off guard. The video had been slightly sped up, making Zhang Chu’s typing look lightning-fast, as if he didn't need to pause or think at all. He bounced back and forth, as if his brain were divided in two—a multitasking ability that made the "Left-Right Inter-fighting" technique from wuxia novels look like child's play.

Everyone who watched was amazed; for most people, writing was like squeezing toothpaste, yet Zhang Chu made it look like a flowing river. The gap was just too large.

While the netizens were shocked, the literary circle had different thoughts. To web novel authors, this was fairly standard, though they acknowledged that Zhang Chu, being a top scholar, was impressively fluent in English. For web authors, "dual-opening" wasn't unheard of; they just lacked his skill with English, though they could manage two documents simultaneously without mixing up the plots.

But to the more rigorous traditional authors, this was mere showmanship. They believed every book required constant revision and deliberation, and such speed was simply impossible.