Chapter Sixty-One: The Coiling Dragon Ascends

At this moment, Su Tong sensed that Ji Ji was undergoing a transformation, gradually lengthening bit by bit. This was not the kind of lengthening that happened during a state of arousal, but rather the kind that occurred in seclusion.

Mission accomplished, the fan base had reached half a million. However, the current count was not even four hundred thousand, since he had spent a portion of it.

“Haha, two centimeters increase in the hidden state means more than four centimeters in the battle state. I can’t help but praise myself for being a real man. Hmph, what’s so great about the West? Men of the Great Qin are just as impressive—I bring glory to our nation. Alas, it’s a pity no one knows about this. Well, let me keep my achievements hidden, stay humble and low-key.” Su Tong hummed a tune as he showered, unable to suppress his delight.

“Don’t get too obsessed with this. Too much of anything is bad. Be careful your girlfriend doesn’t end up resenting you,” the little demon said disapprovingly, unable to stand how much importance Su Tong placed on such things.

“What? There’s such a thing?” Su Tong jumped in surprise, having no clue.

The little demon rolled its eyes. “It feels good to clean your ears, but is it comfortable to dig too deep? Try poking your eardrum and see what happens.”

Even beneath the showerhead, Su Tong wiped his forehead. That made sense—he always thought the more, the better.

“Just focus on completing the system’s tasks. Otherwise, it’ll make you however many centimeters it wants, or even meters.” The little demon chuckled, brimming with mischief.

Su Tong broke out in a cold sweat. Damn, meters? Men’s belts are usually just about a meter to one point three meters.

“I’m warning you, stop scaring me or I’ll lose my temper,” Su Tong said, shaken, unable to enjoy his shower, and finished in less than ten minutes.

“So quick, you’re done already?” Sitting on the living room sofa, holding a book with the LCD TV on, Sister Yaya put down her book and stood up. “I heard you have something to do after midnight. If you’re busy, go ahead to your room. I’ll take care of washing and hanging your clothes.”

“Thank you, Sister Yaya.” For reasons unknown, Su Tong couldn’t refuse her, nor could he be casual, so he thanked her and hurried into the streaming room.

It was almost midnight.

Before ending his previous stream, he had advertised to his viewers. Now, he wondered how many would be waiting for him at midnight.

There were five reader groups for “Coiling Dragon,” each with a thousand members—a total of over four thousand readers accumulated in a little over a month.

But Su Tong knew that after the book went up for sale, probably less than a quarter would subscribe.

Of course, not being in the group didn’t mean they wouldn’t subscribe.

“Haha, our Jiao is about to launch!”

“Almost midnight—‘Coiling Dragon’ invincible!”

“Love ‘Coiling Dragon,’ bullets are ready!”

“Where’s our Jiao? @her to come out.”

“What, her? Is Nian Nu Jiao a woman? I just found out!”

“Ha, the author is female.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, the author is clearly male.”

“I’m confused—is the author male or female?”

“Same question, what’s the author’s gender, concave or convex?”

“Don’t go off topic, my guaranteed monthly ticket is ready. What about you guys?”

“……”

Watching the readers banter in the five QQ groups, Su Tong was delighted but didn’t join in. He had tried before; once he started chatting, it never ended, and once, when readers argued, they @’d him to mediate. He foolishly joined in intending to calm things, but ended up driving one of them away.

But is it okay to call me Jiao?

In his previous life, Su Tong remembered well that on Hong Kong Island there was an odd female duo—one woman, after a certain event, the whole world knew; the other, after the same event, the whole world didn’t know. The one that everyone knew was called Jiao.

“Shenlong is so arrogant, already claiming next month’s top spot for their ‘Great God’ before it even launches.”

“It’s just because Shenlong’s an old author with more fans. ‘Great God’ isn’t as good as our ‘Coiling Dragon.’”

“Shenlong has declared war. Admin, have Jiao make a battle statement too. We need to fight!”

“Yeah, if Jiao doesn’t compete, we’ll lose motivation and cohesion.”

“Come on, hoping for an explosive launch! Go, Jiao!”

“How many chapters do you think Jiao will release in a burst?”

“I guess five.”

“I guess three. Jiao is a pure newcomer, not reliable early on—four or five chapters a day, wasted a lot of drafts. Does he even have drafts left for launch?”

“……”

Seeing the heated discussions, Su Tong opened the “Coiling Dragon” page on Diandian Chinese Net.

The total clicks were over one and a half million, and the total word count was over four hundred thousand.

He checked Shenlong’s “Great God”—over two point seven million clicks, but less than three hundred thousand words.

Such was the gap between a top author and a newcomer.

Since “Coiling Dragon” had once surpassed “Great God” on the weekly member click chart, it hadn’t climbed back up, because soon after, “Great God” surged, holding first place in both the weekly member click chart and the weekly reader recommendation chart.

On the weekly member click chart, “Coiling Dragon” was stuck at second, its numbers about half of “Great God.”

On the weekly reader recommendation chart, “Coiling Dragon” hovered between sixth and eighth place, unable to compete with “Great God.”

Su Tong was self-aware. In the web fiction world, whether ordinary fans or diehards, he had far fewer than Shenlong.

So, even when Shenlong provoked again and again, Su Tong didn’t respond.

“Hey, are you online?” At that moment, Su Tong’s QQ flashed. It was Editor Watermelon: “P has been activated, password is 2*******. Haha, we support you in fighting the Great God, go for the monthly ticket ranking.”

Su Tong was puzzled. He was a newcomer—competing with the Great God was a losing battle, self-torture.

“Haha, I’m not familiar with Shenlong. Accepting a challenge means a fight to the finish. A newcomer needs to stay low-key.” Su Tong replied.

“Don’t worry, we’re backing you. We’ve prepared plenty of monthly tickets for you.” Watermelon replied quickly, with a mischievous emoji.

We?

Su Tong wondered—wasn’t it just Watermelon?

“We” meant Diandian itself?

Looks like Diandian really enjoyed these battles. Every time the monthly ticket war erupted, the flames spread everywhere and money burned like water.

“We’ll see.” Su Tong neither refused nor agreed to fight.

“Your reader base is huge now. Hey, no newcomer has ever challenged the Great God. If you accept, even if you lose, your subscription numbers will definitely rise…” Watermelon was persistent, always tempting Su Tong to slay the god.

What Su Tong didn’t know was that Shenlong now virtually dominated Diandian Chinese Net. Other top authors dared not challenge him, since they would almost certainly lose.

Whether a veteran or a newcomer, before launching their book, most would write a note, routinely thanking the platform, editors, chief editors, and readers. Su Tong had penned a couple hundred words—not about hardship, but about how content he was with his current life.

A minute past midnight, September first arrived.

Su Tong’s spirits soared—finally, it was launch time and money would start rolling in.

Though he didn’t beg for subscriptions, he certainly hoped for a flood of them.

“I wonder how many subscriptions I’ll get?” Su Tong reopened the “Coiling Dragon” page, preparing to enter the author’s section, only to be stunned by the scene before him.