“Xia Meng is bound to succeed,” Guo Jun declared smugly. “Right now, she’s already a celebrated young writer at the university. When she earns her doctorate, she’ll be a world-class author—maybe even a Nobel Prize contender.”

At the mention of her writing, Xia Meng’s lips curled into a soft smile. She opened her laptop and turned it toward Ye Tian.

“Ye Tian, this is the novel I just finished. A publisher told me that some film companies are showing interest.”

The novel was titled A Rainbow for the City. It was a heartwarming story about two ordinary young people struggling to build a better life in the city. Inspirational and rooted in reality, it was a sharp contrast to the fantastical and violent stories that once dominated the market.

Ye Tian knew that in the coming years, realistic stories would become the mainstay of film and television adaptations. Xia Meng’s focus on urban struggles would propel her career to new heights, making her a sought-after name in the entertainment industry.

Gone were the days of gratuitous action and senseless violence; audiences were beginning to crave authentic narratives that resonated with their lives. Xia Meng was riding the wave of this shift, and Ye Tian could already see her meteoric rise.

“This is excellent,” Ye Tian said, genuinely impressed. “What’s the offer from the film company?”

Guo Jun sneered. “Ye Tian, do you always think about money? This is art. Reducing it to numbers is beneath Xia Meng.”

Xia Meng answered calmly, “They said it’s a rookie work, so the price isn’t high. They offered 50,000 yuan for a full buyout of the rights.”

“Fifty thousand isn’t bad,” Guo Jun interjected. “No costs on your part, and it’s enough to cover five years of tuition!”

Ye Tian ignored him and turned to Xia Meng with a serious expression. “Negotiate for 500,000 yuan for full rights, or 200,000 just for the film rights.”

Guo Jun’s eyes bulged. “Are you insane? Demanding 500,000 for a novel? You’ll scare them off!”

Ye Tian knew the industry’s future trends. Xia Meng’s talent and literary acclaim would only grow, making her work far more valuable in time. The initial sale price would set the tone for her entire career.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“You’re worth it,” Ye Tian said confidently. “Ask for more. It gives them room to negotiate. Five thousand yuan is an insult. Have you seen how much web authors get for their works? Many sell for millions. Your novel is a perfect fit for film adaptation. Besides, as a future Ph.D. in literature, your value far surpasses that of web novelists who barely finished high school.”

Xia Meng hesitated, but Ye Tian’s conviction gave her courage. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. Even if no one buys it now, just wait. Once you have your doctorate, the value of your work will multiply. Fifty thousand? You’ll laugh at that number.”

Guo Jun scowled. “Don’t listen to him, Xia Meng. Asking for that much will scare them off completely.”

“I’m not writing for money,” Xia Meng said coldly. “My goal is to inspire readers and elevate their lives. Those violent web novels only corrupt young minds. They should be banned.”

Guo Jun rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, showing her a trending fantasy novel. “Look at this. It’s full of action, magic, and epic battles. That’s what sells! I told you before—write something like this, and you’ll be rich and famous in no time.”

Xia Meng snorted and turned away.

“Stick to your vision,” Ye Tian encouraged. “Set the price high and stand your ground. If no one bites now, they’ll come crawling back when you’re a literary sensation.”

Xia Meng smiled, her confidence restored. “Ye Tian, what about you? How’s your work going? Do you need help?”

Before Ye Tian could answer, Guo Jun cut in. “Help him? Xia Meng, your parents are intellectuals. What can you do for someone like him? With his credentials, he’s barely fit to stand guard at a campus gate, let alone step inside.”

Ye Tian had already thought ahead. If he wanted to build a future, he needed to immerse himself in the tech world. “I’m planning to rent a booth at the electronics market and start selling computers,” he said simply.

Guo Jun burst into laughter. “Computers? After three years studying media, you’re ending up at a market stall? What a waste of time and money. You should’ve just joined my dad’s construction firm. At least you’d earn more.”

Ye Tian smirked. The real estate market was heading for turbulence, and construction companies would soon face dire straits. Guo Jun’s smug ignorance was almost comical.

After saying goodbye to Xia Meng, Ye Tian stood outside the university, leaning against an old sycamore tree. He watched her retreating figure and swore to himself: This time, I’ll rise. I’ll crush every rival and build a future worthy of her.

Returning home, Ye Tian found Wang Qiang waiting for him. The man’s face was pale and drawn, his tea untouched.

“Ye Tian,” Wang Qiang said miserably, “I’ve lost almost everything. The stock market tanked. The 80,000 yuan is gone, and my portfolio—once worth 300,000—is down to just 40,000.”

Ye Tian feigned shock. “That much?”

He already knew Wang Qiang’s fate. The man’s reckless trading in a bear market was a surefire path to ruin. If I hadn’t taken his house and car deeds, he’d have sunk his entire family into despair, Ye Tian thought grimly.

Wang Qiang’s next move was clear: he’d beg to retrieve his collateral.