Chapter 97: Relentless Demands for Updates (Seeking Votes and Favorites)

In truth, within the pages of Journey to the West Diary, the conversations between the class monitor and the protagonist, Tang Xuanzang, are nothing less than a dialogue between Zhang Chu and his vast readership. To put it in a popular phrase, it’s infuriating, yet one must still maintain a smile.

Even though readers flood the comments with knife-wielding emojis, more and more netizens are drawn in by the eccentricity of Journey to the West Diary. They’ve seen jokesters before, but never one this outstanding. Zhang Chu treats the entire novel as a series of jokes, making the book a delight to read, casting aside any deeper meaning—just laugh and move on!

Day after day, the same content is posted, yet the humor never fades; everyone eagerly awaits the moment when the monk will finally yield. Readers refresh the page incessantly, just for that one line, each admitting their exhaustion.

In Zhang Chu’s serialized work, the diary-writing Xuanzang and the class monitor wage a battle of wits every day. Between the lines, it’s clear that Xuanzang is undoubtedly a troubled youth, leaving the class monitor utterly drained.

Wait, isn’t there something off about that statement?

The internet is filled with readers clamoring to kill and loot for unpublished chapters, but Zhang Chu remains unmoved, updating with the same content each day. Writing that single line is effortlessly easy for him, taking only a few seconds.

As a result, his alternate account in King of Glory has advanced to the diamond rank—what a disgraceful fall! While others are traveling, Zhang Chu is touring the King’s Canyon for seven days on his alt, since playing on his main would alert Wei Wenlin and the others.

...

“So much filler for so long, shouldn’t there be some substance by now? Even the most drawn-out baby novels I follow aren’t as padded as yours!” Zhang Chu, holding steamed dumplings in one hand, played a voice message from Feng Tianrui on his phone, quickly pressing the screen to reply, “No more filler, I promise!”

He looked up and suddenly noticed several imposing gatekeepers standing at the entrance of his bookstore...

Is it too late to turn and run?

The chubby Wei Wenlin strode forward and looped his arm around Zhang Chu’s neck. “Didn’t you say you were at your grandmother’s?”

“I just got back today.” Zhang Chu was nearly suffocated by the hold, his eyelids twitching since morning—a sign of nothing good. He couldn’t even go out for breakfast without being caught.

Feng Tianrui chuckled and grabbed Zhang Chu’s left leg, then turned to the stunned Fu Deyu, “What are you waiting for? Come help!”

Something seemed off about this situation. Zhang Chu struggled, pleading, “Brothers, you’re all my brothers! Don’t do this!”

“Go ahead, scream all you want—no one’s coming to save you,” Wei Wenlin said with a mischievous grin. The four of them lifted Zhang Chu, preparing for a ruthless aruba.

For the sake of his lower body and future happiness, Zhang Chu begged for mercy, “Big brothers, I was wrong! I really was wrong. Let me down, please! If you aruba me, I definitely won’t be able to update for the next few days.”

Fu Deyu glanced at him, “So are you writing today or not?”

“Writing, writing, definitely writing!”

“How many words?” Wei Wenlin pressed on. If it was just chanting scriptures or sweeping, the aruba count would double.

Under the eaves, one must bow their head.

Zhang Chu pleaded, “A few thousand words—just let me down, I’ll start right away!”

Neighbors gathered outside to watch the spectacle, the scene truly embarrassing.

...

Under the supervision of his friends, Zhang Chu sat at his computer like a convict, several pairs of eyes fixed on him, the pressure mounting. Ordinary people would be unable to write under such circumstances, but luckily, all Zhang Chu needed was to retrieve the original text of Journey to the West Diary from the system.

On the eighth day, Xuanzang, the problematic monk, finally bid farewell to the fulfilling and joyful days of sweeping and chanting. Like a bird released from its cage or a turtle leaving the pond, he descended the mountain and encountered a diminutive, sparkling goldfish.

“How much experience points do you gain from eating it? Hahaha!”

Wei Wenlin laughed so hard his mouth wouldn’t close. The novel was written like a game—what was originally a beautiful tale, Zhang Chu had turned into a joke. This comedic style is notoriously difficult to master, but Zhang Chu handled it with ease.

Fu Deyu and the others huddled together, laughing as they read. Anyone passing by might think they were watching a romantic film.

His friends were in stitches, and Zhang Chu secretly breathed a sigh of relief; today’s plot had plenty of words and laughs, or he wouldn’t have escaped disaster.

“This won’t do, personal safety is at risk!” Zhang Chu muttered to himself. If his roommates also read the novel, wouldn’t he be threatened every day?

He set out to be a rising star of the literary world, but accidentally became an internet comedy sensation. Zhang Chu wondered how his path had grown so skewed—the more he thought about it, the more tired he felt.

After reading the latest updates, his group of mischievous friends patted their backsides and left, while Zhang Chu remained, still shaken.

What’s it like when your friends become your most loyal readers?

Zhang Chu could probably write an answer for Zhihu: they become obsessed, urging updates day and night!

...

“My goodness, did Zhang Chu have a stroke today? He actually updated several thousand words!” An exclamation rang out from the office, someone struck by the sudden surprise.

After days of one-line updates, countless readers were startled by Zhang Chu’s outburst.

As they read, everyone enthusiastically liked the post, and more people speculated whether the little dragon girl, now a goldfish, would be promoted to the main heroine.

Zhou Hu secretly browsed Weibo during work, curling up like a quail after his outburst, afraid the office manager would notice.

Rain after a long drought—Zhou Hu was utterly engrossed. These days, only Zhang Chu could turn a novel into a series of jokes, cementing his reputation as a master of comedy.

...

The various quotes and memes from Journey to the West Diary spread rapidly across the internet, fueling Zhang Chu’s popularity.

When his previous serial, Crime Psychology, was running, each Weibo post attracted only tens of thousands of views and a few thousand likes.

Now, with the hilarious Journey to the West Diary just beginning its serialization, a single Weibo post easily surpassed ten thousand shares, with millions of views and tens of thousands of likes.

Even his Weibo follower count climbed rapidly, quickly hitting five hundred thousand—an astonishing pace.

Ordinary jokesters had to bow down; Zhang Chu had practically monopolized the internet’s supply of laughter for the entire year!

Whenever people were bored, reading his Weibo posts guaranteed laughter. Some even held gatherings to see who could resist laughing the longest, making Journey to the West Diary the perfect test.

Countless people with high thresholds for humor surrendered to this book, and more eagerly awaited the appearance of the other three disciples—the monkey facing the East Sea and spring blossoms, the pig who loves to eat and laze, and the hardworking, diligent sand monk. Would they overturn the familiar impressions of the past?