Chapter 41 Praise (Please vote and add to your favorites)

For many magazines, unless the readers are truly diehard fans, few would rush to buy the latest issue at the crack of dawn and finish it in one sitting. It takes time for a magazine to generate buzz. Some magazines rely on steady, long-term sales, selling a similar number of copies nearly every day throughout the month. Others cater to a more niche audience, with sales peaking during the week of release and declining day by day until the next issue hits the stands.

Strictly speaking, “Chronicle of Mysteries” belonged to the latter category. Its readership was small but loyal, and most could state the release date with certainty. Yet buying a magazine didn’t guarantee it would be read immediately, and reading it didn’t guarantee a review. Given the multitude of ways to access content these days, feedback was more scattered than ever, making data collection a real challenge.

Still, Qiao Liu tirelessly communicated with editors across various channels. As the data gradually flowed in, she began to sense that this issue’s impact might far surpass anything before.

“Alright, everyone, morning meeting!” Wan Yuan called out from the office doorway. Meetings were typically held once a week, so the fact that there was another one on Wednesday piqued everyone’s curiosity.

Though small, the magazine office was complete with all the necessary departments. Staff from editorial, business, and administration each settled into their usual spots. The editor-in-chief, Chen Haodong, cleared his throat and began, “I’ve gathered everyone here today for an important reason. Based on current feedback, our July issue—counting pre-sales and annual subscriptions—has shipped 80,000 physical copies, with 19,000 sold so far. The digital editions are doing exceptionally well, especially through Douban Bookstore, Duokan Reading, iBook, and other platforms, all of which are outperforming last year’s numbers. According to preliminary statistics, we’ve already had 27,000 paid downloads!”

A low hum of conversation broke out as staff exchanged surprised glances. They knew their own numbers well; though digital downloads had been growing, they’d never before surpassed print sales. Yet here they were: 27,000 digital copies versus 19,000 in print—a significant difference!

Of course, everyone knew that shipment figures didn’t equate to sales. That first-day total of 19,000 magazines was already enough to stun everyone.

“This issue is really flying off the shelves. Did some platform feature our digital edition on their homepage?”

“With all the effort we put in, these results make sense.”

“Could July’s sales really be double or triple June’s?”

“If only we could keep this up every month. The ‘Top Scorer Effect’ is real.”

“I figure the reason for so many digital sales is that our magazine’s sold out in stores.”

Murmurs of conversation filled the room, and Qiao Liu found her thoughts drifting. Admittedly, this issue was of high quality, but most readers weren’t here for that—they were drawn in by the buzz surrounding Jiangdong Province’s top exam scorer.

After all, if someone could write a perfect-score essay like “The Death of Red Hare” that shook the entire nation, what kind of novel could they produce?

Curiosity was running rampant. Everyone wanted to see if the top scorer—and his perfect essay—lived up to the hype.

“Let’s settle down. Director Li from Market Distribution will break down the numbers for us,” Chen Haodong announced, rapping the table for silence. The room quieted instantly.

Li Rongsheng projected his makeshift presentation onto the wall. “According to our data analysis, the most-searched work in this issue is ‘Detective Sherlock,’ followed by ‘The Method of Deduction.’ The search volumes aren’t even close: ‘Detective Sherlock’ has been searched over 870,000 times, while ‘The Method of Deduction’ trails at just 12,000; the rest don’t even break 5,000.”

“Furthermore, based on our own app and web browsing records, as well as feedback from other platforms, the vast majority of readers, after purchasing the magazine, choose to read ‘Detective Sherlock’ first. On average, they spend nine minutes on that story alone! Over 40% of users exit the app after finishing ‘Detective Sherlock.’”

“In other words, the key to this issue’s success is ‘Detective Sherlock’—or rather, its author, Zhang Chu!”

Chen Haodong surveyed the room and assigned tasks. “This is our best opportunity yet. Everyone must pull together to promote the magazine. The market distribution team needs to prepare ample stock and ensure wide availability. Most importantly, Qiao Liu, get in touch with Zhang Chu and persuade him to serialize his future works with us. Be flexible with the terms if needed.”

“Understood. I’ll contact him shortly,” Qiao Liu replied, already formulating her strategy. After all, there was only one well-known mystery magazine in the country—no real alternative.

…

“Eat your meal and put down the phone,” Grandma Lin scolded her son, narrowing her eyes. “You’re too old to be glued to that thing.”

Zhang Bowen was scrolling through various apps, refreshing the comments section between bites, eager for the latest reader feedback.

Chu Lan and Zhang Chu couldn’t help but stifle their laughter at the table—it was amusing to see a man in his forties still being scolded like a child.

After a round of maternal admonishment, Zhang Bowen obediently set his phone aside. “Mom, I’m just reading what people are saying about your grandson. They’re all praising him online!”

Grandma Lin’s interest was instantly piqued. “Oh? Read some out loud—how are they praising him?”

Zhang Chu perked up too, eager to hear how readers were responding to his story.

None of them touched their food now; all eyes were on Zhang Bowen, waiting for the online verdict.

“One reader wrote, ‘Zhang Chu truly lives up to his reputation as a perfect-score essayist. His character portrayals are flawless, and Sherlock Holmes’s uncanny deductive powers are brilliantly showcased. The sequence where he borrows Watson’s phone and delivers that seamless chain of deductions is simply outstanding—even surpassing the original novel’s watch deduction! What’s more, Holmes is not deified here; he remains the sharp-tongued, extraordinary genius we’ve always known and loved.’”

“This reviewer was especially effusive in their praise. ‘If Conan Doyle were alive today, in this century, he would surely have his beloved eccentric send out a flurry of “wrong” signals at Inspector Lestrade’s press conference.’”

Though Grandma Lin didn’t fully understand the references, she beamed, her wrinkled face alight with pride, nodding enthusiastically.

“Our Zhang Chu isn’t just going to be a top scorer—he’s going to be a great writer too!”

As for Zhang Chu himself, he finally felt his anxieties ease. At least, so far, the readers seemed to approve. No one thought he’d written nonsense.