Chapter 163: Milestone

If the zebra with the broken leg corresponds to the sailor, and the orangutan to Pi's mother, then the cook is the one who killed them. Who does Richard Parker correspond to? Pi himself? Could the tiger have never existed at all?

Chen Yingsong fell into deep thought. Perhaps the tiger in the first story was simply the protagonist Pi himself. The fierce tiger represented the dark and beastly side of human nature, while the struggle against the tiger clearly symbolized the divinity striving within the human heart.

In moments of danger, human animality helped ensure survival. Yet, as humanity relentlessly pursued and drew closer to divinity, that inner beast would quietly and imperceptibly slip away.

"Perhaps this novel holds even more hidden layers," Chen Yingsong sighed with emotion. Without hesitation, he entered a score of one hundred in the rating column, resolving to give the book a thorough second reading back at his hotel that evening.

Zhang Chu's writing style was brilliantly audacious yet profoundly subtle. Countless details had to be savored slowly from within the text. He was convinced that this new work by Zhang Chu was not merely an outrageously enchanting fantasy tale, nor simply an exposition of religious faith and rational thought regarding life's choices; rather, it used this brutal reality as a profound repentance for life and a sweeping reflection on human nature!

This novel was a mirror, allowing each reader to catch a glimpse of their own soul.

***

Scarcely a few minutes after the score was submitted, Deng Yiming hurried over in a flurry of anxiety.

He asked nervously, "Teacher Chen, the very first score you gave today is a perfect hundred? Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

"No mistake at all. Initially, I only intended to give it seventy-five, but the further I read, the more riveting it became, and my score slowly crept up to eighty-five. Then that ending—it was nothing short of a divine plot twist, effortlessly pulling together all the preceding foreshadowing and making it feel completely inevitable. Giving it a hundred is no exaggeration at all!"

Chen Yingsong praised the book enthusiastically. Right now, his mind was entirely consumed by the plot of *Life of Pi*, leaving him utterly incapable of focusing on the next book in the stack.

Deng Yiming naturally knew that this hundred-point rating belonged to Zhang Chu's work, but he remained somewhat skeptical.

Zhang Chu had a certain reputation, having written two full-length novels, and both his prose and structural framework were reliable. However, this was a work of serious literature—wasn't a hundred-point score a bit too extravagant?

"Old Deng, you can go read it yourself, or wait until the others finish reading and discuss their evaluations. If you still feel that a hundred is too high by then, I'll change it immediately!"

Chen Yingsong possessed absolute confidence; anyone who had read *Life of Pi* was invariably captivated by it.

After all, this was merely a submission for a literary contest, and its standards were somewhat more forgiving than those of major accolades like the Mao Dun Literature Prize or the Lu Xun Literature Prize!

"Well then, I'll take your word for it just this once. Old Ma and Old Cao are already asking to take Zhang Chu's manuscript back to their hotel rooms to read, so I might as well join in on the fun."

Moved by Chen Yingsong's recommendation, Deng Yiming—who also harbored a deep fondness for literary works—was naturally eager to see the book that had conquered a literary master!

***

Meanwhile, Zhang Chu was sleeping soundly and deeply, only jolted awake when his alarm clock began to ring.

Fortunately, he had no classes on Monday morning; otherwise, he would have earned the dubious distinction of being the first student in his class to skip lecture.

After a long, restorative sleep, his energy slowly returned. The days of continuous writing for *Life of Pi* had left him feeling nauseous just at the sight of a keyboard and a word document.

"I will never put myself through such exhausting work again. It's practically overdrawing my life force!"

After taking a refreshing shower, Zhang Chu felt entirely revitalized. He knew the contest results wouldn't be announced anytime soon, and he also knew that worrying was futile, so he decided to simply relax and enjoy the moment.

On Weibo, countless people were currently discussing why Zhang Chu had suddenly grown so quiet, updating only a single chapter every two days and remaining completely silent regardless of the commentary.

He glanced at his empty computer desk. Back at home, his mother would always arrange all sorts of snacks right there for him to eat while watching movies or playing games.

Now that he had arrived in Beijing, no one was buying snacks for him anymore. He still found this occasionally inconvenient, especially during the dead of night when hunger struck or he fancied a little treat, only to reach out and find nothing at all.

Just as he was contemplating what to order through online shopping, Zhou Kang's phone call came through.

"Are you finally awake? I was afraid of disturbing you all morning, so I didn't dare call."

As Zhang Chu's literary agent, Zhou Kang actually kept a copy of his class schedule precisely to ensure that calls would never interrupt his studies.

Zhang Chu replied, "I just woke up not long ago. Uncle Zhou, is there something you couldn't say over WeChat?"

Zhou Kang let out a hearty laugh. "Chatting on WeChat isn't as convenient; talking on the phone is much better."

"So, what is this about?"

"Did you really not receive the good news from South China Publishing House? The cumulative sales of your two books have just broken the one-million mark!"

Upon waking up, Zhang Chu truly hadn't bothered to open QQ. He spent most of his time on Weibo and WeChat, which must have caused him to miss editor Gu Xinxue's text message.

Cumulative sales exceeding one million for two books—this was indeed wonderful news worth celebrating!

"I really haven't been paying much attention to those two books. How did they climb so fast?" He distinctly remembered that *Criminal Minds* had been released less than a month ago, and he hadn't made a single public appearance to promote it. Aside from checking the sales figures on the first and second days, he had left the books entirely to fend for themselves.

Truly, even a wild lily has its spring.

"Of course, this million-plus sales figure doesn't refer solely to physical books, but rather the combination of physical and digital copies. Just think about how massive your exposure has been over the past month. If these were in a trendier genre, the sales for your two books would probably be surging toward two million copies!"

A quiet thrill rippled through Zhang Chu. Without these two books, he might never have generated such massive momentum.

The right time, the right place, and the right people—not a single element could be spared.

Over the phone, Zhou Kang continued, "As for sales figures, you're quite a rare oddity. Out of the 710,000 copies of *Sherlock Holmes*, over 400,000 were sold through digital channels. And out of the 320,000 copies of *Criminal Minds: City of Light*, 190,000 were also purchased as e-books or through online paywalls."

In truth, e-books were not yet universally widespread, and the vast majority of authors sold significantly more physical books than digital copies—a trend completely inverted in Zhang Chu's case.

After all, the vast majority of Zhang Chu's readers were young people accustomed to supporting their favorite authors via smartphones, computers, and e-readers like Kindles, with only a fraction choosing to purchase physical copies for their collections.

His internet popularity was astronomical, though his influence would undoubtedly plummet once detached from the digital medium.

Regardless, a million-tier sales milestone was indisputable reality—a figure built piece by piece from the hard-earned money of countless readers!

"Why do I suddenly feel like I've become an internet-famous author?"

Zhang Chu rubbed his chin, wondering if he could consider himself as having made a monumental contribution to the nation's environmental protection by saving so much paper.

On the other end of the line, Zhou Kang felt an urge to cough up blood. Wasn't that the most obvious thing in the world? To think he hadn't even had that much self-awareness until now!