บท 1: Ji Feng
Letting out a long sigh, I reclined my tired body on the backside of my chair. Both of my hands, which I've been furiously typing with non-stop for the last eight hours, fell powerlessly at the sides of my body.
"I finally did it." In front of me, the screen of my laptop showed the fruit of very long hours of labor.
"I'll punch in the face whoever said being a novel author was an easy job."
Of course, this could also be due to the fact that I waited until the very last day before the deadline given by the editorial to finish the last few volumes of my work.
Procrastination can be as bad as it is delicious.
Even so, I felt a certain sense of pride at being able to finish my manuscript in such a short amount of time. Though I got the feeling my editor would fervently disagree with me in that regard, and then surely chastise me with that unnerving gaze of hers.
"That old hag can be a true slave driver sometimes. She really should try and get laid…"
A chilling sensation went down my back when that thought crossed through my head. I clearly remember that time when I got drunk at home and, through the phone, had the 'courage', though now I think the term 'utter stupidity' would be more fitting, of remind her of her status as a single woman in her forties.
She came all the way from across the city to my apartment just to beat me up. Her livid countenance as she used that leather purse of hers to beat the crap out of me still haunts my nightmares.
Up till today, I still feel phantom pains when someone says the phrase "women are like wine, the older the better."
Bitter, I say.
I shook my head to stop that useless line of thinking. I don't gain anything by musing about other people's relationship status.
Standing up from where I was sitting, I did some stretches to drive the soreness of my muscles away. Popping sounds could be heard from all over my body as I did some light gymnastics. Sitting during 8 hours straight can put some real knots in your back.
After my little bout of exercise, I gave a last cursory glance at the last chapter of my novel before closing up my laptop. Five years ago, if someone said to me that I would be writing web novels in order to have something to eat, I would dismiss them as delusional bastards. But after living by myself for the last three years, I came to understand that the world can be a really harsh place.
Sighing again, I turned from my desk to face the familiar sight of my bedroom. It was a small room with an area of only a few meters square.
There was a single bed with neatly tided white sheets. A nightstand could be seen at the bedside, sporting a little lamp, curiously shaped like a fungus from a certain game of plumber brothers [1]. The faint light of the lamp illuminated the rest of the room, which although was a bit empty, it emanated an aura of cleanliness.
One would imagine the room of a young man in his twenties to be a messy junkyard, filled with empty cans of instant food and all sorts of crap. But the truth is that I never could stand filthy places, so I always make an extra effort to maintain my place clean.
All in all, my room was completely average, as is the rest of my apartment. But that's good enough already, considering how dilapidated is the building at which my apartment is located. The landlord usually compliments me for 'taking proper care' of my abode, but I know that the old bastard is only concerned for the state of his property.
I walked sluggishly towards my bed, and dropped on top of it like my soul just left my body. I let myself be embraced by the warmth sensation of the blankets while looking at the ceiling of my room before my mind continued to wander on its own.
It's been already three years since I left my parent's home.
Let's just say that it was not as easy as I thought it would be. I had to get a few part-time jobs only to survive, but I still had to cut out some meals in order to pay for the basic services like water, electricity, and of course, internet. I lost like ten kilograms in the first two months.
At those moments of hunger, I felt a deep veneration towards both my parents who had to provide food for me since the day I was born.
My bad luck streak continued on. Time and time again, my resume was rejected by multiple companies. Some of them claimed that I didn't have enough experience, while others ensured to give me a call that never came.
Out of desperation, I turned to writing web novels to try and get some money. Who would have thought that I could become a popular novel author?
Well, not popular per se, but at least my novel 'The Evolver of Evil' became somewhat well-known on the internet community, gaining me an exclusive contract with Qidian International, and giving me some much needed revenue.
This is how I, Ji Feng, unable to cope with society, became a shut-in novel author.
"This world is too unjust..." Muttered I while closing my eyes. Drowsiness proceeded to take my consciousness away, but even as I fell sleep, my mind was still imagining the life I could never have.
Sadly, at that time, I failed to notice the stench of rotten eggs, annunciating an accidental gas leakage…
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[1]: Reference to the game "Super Mario Bros".
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