“Of course I have confidence in you!”
Zou Weijun knew the 6% starting royalty was low.
But she never imagined Wen Ying’s book wouldn’t sell at least 20,000 copies.
How many it would sell was uncertain, but it wouldn’t be just 20,000!
If it reached 150,000 copies, Wen Ying would get a 10% royalty. Over a million copies, and she’d earn 15%.
For a 300,000-word novel, Zou Weijun set a tentative price of 32 yuan. If it sold a million copies, with a 15% royalty, Wen Ying’s earnings would be nearly 5 million yuan!
If Zou Weijun now guaranteed Wen Ying that *Teen Idol* would sell over a million copies, she’d be treating her like a fool.
Even Zou Weijun’s boss didn’t believe a new author’s debut could hit a million, which was why they agreed to this pricing model.
Since Wen Ying wouldn’t reach that sales figure, putting 15% in the contract was like dangling a bone to motivate her. To aim for 15%, Wen Ying had to accept the 6% starting royalty for under 20,000 copies—a very low rate.
Wen Ying read on. Settlements were every three months.
From *Teen Idol*’s release, sales would be tallied every three months, and Wen Ying’s royalties paid.
For example, if the first three months sold 15,000 copies, her royalty would be “15,000 × 32 × 6%,” or 28,800 yuan.
But in the next cycle, if sales exceeded 20,000 copies—even by just one—she’d move to the next tier. Wen Ying would get 7% on the 5,001 books sold in the second quarter, plus the difference for the previous quarter’s sales recalculated at 7%.
The more her book sold, the higher her royalty income.
Though royalties were tiered by actual sales, the retail price didn’t affect Wen Ying. Even if the book was discounted, her royalties were based on the 32-yuan price!
The contract was valid for three years.
Three years out, Zou Weijun couldn’t predict the book market, but she left room for renegotiation for her company and Wen Ying.
If her publishing department didn’t renew after three years, Wen Ying could take the book to another publisher for a reprint.
During the contract, every book sold counted toward Wen Ying’s cumulative sales.
In three years, if it sold over a million copies, Wen Ying could earn nearly 5 million in royalties!
With her professional judgment, Wen Ying found no faults in Zou Weijun’s plan. Zou Weijun’s sincerity was clear, but Wen Ying didn’t agree immediately.
“Auntie Zou, I’d like to hear *Aige*’s offer. If *Aige* matches your terms, I’d prioritize letting the magazine publish the standalone book. I see your sincerity, but—anyway, I’m sorry, I don’t want to deceive you!”
Zou Weijun genuinely wanted to publish this book.
Wen Ying knew Zou Weijun was sincere and that work gave her purpose.
But she couldn’t abandon her principles just because Zou Weijun was Xie Qian’s mother.
*Teen Idol*’s success owed much to *Aige* magazine’s platform. Editor Xiao Ni was Wen Ying’s “Bole,” patiently pointing out issues in her early rejections.
A good editor could help a new author grow quickly, and Wen Ying was deeply grateful to Xiao Ni.
Even the existence of *Teen Idol* came from Xiao Ni commissioning her and encouraging her to try a full-length novel.
*Teen Idol*’s initial pay was 130 yuan per thousand words, a rookie rate.
After some success, Xiao Ni quickly secured 180 yuan per thousand for Wen Ying.
Now, having earned 500,000 for a script, 180 yuan per thousand wasn’t much, but for Wen Ying, writing wasn’t just about money.
Wen Ying’s refusal was tactful. Even if *Aige*’s offer was slightly worse, she’d likely still choose them to publish her standalone book.
Not for anything else, but to repay Xiao Ni’s help.
Being reborn once was already a huge opportunity—could she expect a second chance?
Wen Ying cherished others’ kindness and didn’t want to leave regrets.
Wen Ying shared her thoughts honestly. Zou Weijun wasn’t upset; she admired Wen Ying’s loyalty. Not everyone could resist such a tempting offer.
“I understand your thinking. Everything has an order of priority.”
A pure heart is always so simple and sincere.
Zou Weijun reassured Wen Ying, “I’ll arrange a meeting with the magazine folks, and we’ll sit down together. If they’re sincere about publishing your book, I’ll let them have *Teen Idol*. We’ll have other chances to work together. By the time you publish your second book, this tiered royalty might not suit your status!”
A three-way meeting was somewhat taboo.
Zou Weijun did it to show her sincerity.
Even if it didn’t work out, her offer would pressure *Aige*, giving Wen Ying a push.
“Auntie Zou, thank you!”
The more Wen Ying interacted with Zou Weijun, the more she liked her.
A young person’s pure heart is precious, but at Zou Weijun’s age, to remain mostly kind was truly rare!
Especially after Zou Weijun’s unhappy engagement, she could’ve become cynical or suspicious, but she didn’t!
Wen Ying couldn’t stay long at Xie Qian’s house. After talking with Zou Weijun, she said goodbye. Zou Weijun, concerned, offered to drive her home, but Wen Ying declined, “You just got back from your trip, rest early. I’ll take a taxi.”
Xie Qian came downstairs, “I’ll walk Wen Ying to get a taxi and note the license plate.”
“Then just take her home,” Zou Weijun said.
At night, girls faced more risks than boys.
Wen Ying sensed Xie Qian had something to say, feeling nervous, thinking he’d graded her paper. But in the taxi, Xie Qian didn’t mention it.
“You have Song Shao’s contact, right?”
“I have his QQ and a landline number.”
Wen Ying realised she’d forgotten to ask for Song Shao’s mobile number and wasn’t even sure if he used one.
“Then… never mind, tell him directly. I’ve thought about it, and something feels off. The 1 million my dad’s paying in compensation—tell Song Shao not to take it.”
Can’t take it?
Wen Ying was puzzled, “Hasn’t the mediation agreement been signed?”
Xie Qian nodded, “It’s signed, but the money hasn’t been paid yet. Though my uncle insists my dad must learn a lesson, and my dad doesn’t dare refuse the million, I just have this gut feeling I can’t explain.”
