Isabelle stood up, took a plate of pears from Jiang Ye's desk, and left the office with a crunching sound.
Jiang Ye pondered, then took out a pair of white gloves from his desk, put them on, and began to seriously flip through Isabelle's novel.
Before reading, Jiang Ye had no expectations.
Isabelle didn't look like a literary youth, and the manuscript was scribbled and messy, rough and violent, exuding a strong amateur aura.
Many middle school girls write novels, just playing around, unable to produce anything good. Being able to write coherently was already outstanding. Most such novels could only make readers cringe so hard their toes curled.
However, after reading a few pages, Jiang Ye's expression changed.
Huh?
This novel's beginning... has some substance!
Better than expected!
It's actually a bit good!
The beginning was probably polished carefully, so it's normal for it to be quite good, but the key is what comes after.
Jiang Ye felt that it would definitely decline gradually, and it would probably collapse after tens of thousands of words.
He read another few dozen pages.
Jiang Ye was shocked.
Holy cow, it's getting better and better!
Damn, how can it be so awesome?
Isabelle's writing style was short and powerful, like the slash of a sword, without any unnecessary words.
Many of the word choices were extremely concise, with the style of classical Chinese literature, but not obscure. It read as smoothly as flowing water, even possessing a cinematic visual sense.
The plot was full of suspense and perilous situations. Jiang Ye felt as if his heart was being squeezed and twisted fiercely!
Several supporting characters had already appeared, all incredibly three-dimensional, appearing vivid and lifelike as he read, as if they were right before his eyes! The protagonist was even more so. Jiang Ye could almost see the protagonist's face and hear their voice through the notebook, like an old acquaintance he had known for a long time!
Jiang Ye couldn't help himself and called his wife.
"Hello, husband?" Cen Yemeng seemed to be in a good mood.
"You've read Isabelle's novel, right?" Jiang Ye asked.
"Yes, I have. Have you finished it, husband?" Cen Yemeng's tone immediately became excited.
"Not yet. I just reached the twentieth chapter. Old John mistakenly enters Demon Ridge, and Zhao Erhu punches the Mechanical Girl... these chapter titles are so strange..." Jiang Ye complained. "Wife, what did you feel after finishing this novel?"
"It's amazing!" Cen Yemeng said without hesitation. "Isabelle is truly amazing! At least among the current best-selling novels, hers can hold a place. I read it all night and was too excited to sleep!"
"Does she write novels while working?" Jiang Ye changed the subject.
"No, she writes in her spare time. She's been writing for about two years, a little bit each day, like a diary," Cen Yemeng said. "There's a very tall desk in the corner of her office, and she habitually writes standing by the desk. When she's not in the mood, she writes for ten minutes; when she's in a good mood, she can stand all night."
"Why doesn't she sit and write?" Jiang Ye was confused.
"I asked her, and she said she came from a military background and is used to standing. Sometimes standing is more comfortable than sitting," Cen Yemeng said. "I think she might use this method to concentrate. I sometimes work standing up too, and it's more comfortable than sitting."
Jiang Ye leaned back in his chair, stood up, and lifted the edge of his desk. The desktop automatically rose.
"You're well-read," Jiang Ye said. "Putting aside our personal relationship, if you didn't know Isabelle and saw this book, what would your evaluation be?"
"A soul-stirring modern novel, enough to make most literary award judges exclaim in admiration. It inherits the narrative structure of Ming and Qing dynasty novels, the supernatural elements of Pu Songling and Yuan Mei, dissects real life, and seamlessly combines the fluency of commercial novels with the depth of literary masterpieces. It excels at reflecting magical realism through the ups and downs of ordinary people's experiences, with meticulous descriptions of human nature and the world..."
"Don't give me that. Say something I can understand," Jiang Ye interrupted.
"If I stumbled upon Isabelle's book in a bookstore," Cen Yemeng paused. "After flipping through a few pages, I would be startled and think, 'Does an unknown writer today already have such skill?' After buying the book and finishing it, I would definitely return to the bookstore and ask the salesperson if they have the complete works of this writer, Isabelle. If the salesperson said the writer is very young and has only published one book, I would be very delighted and eagerly await her next one."
"Okay, I believe your judgment," Jiang Ye said. "I'll binge-read this book tonight and then decide whether to publish it and promote it heavily."
"Absolutely. You've only just started the beginning. Later, there will be a plot about the protagonist's lifespan extension, which is very suitable for the current promotional direction," Cen Yemeng said. "If luck is on her side, Isabelle's book might even create a new genre of commercial fiction."
After hanging up the phone, Jiang Ye continued reading the novel.
Exclamations of "Holy cow" continuously echoed in the office.
This continued all night.
...
The next evening.
Jiang Ye was working standing at his desk. He had been standing all day, only sitting down occasionally to rest. He found that working while standing was indeed more efficient.
The office door opened.
Isabelle walked in with long strides. She had changed into a pink basketball uniform, which was quite revealing.
"Have you finished it? Have you finished it?" Isabelle's expression was expectant.
"I've finished it," Jiang Ye said, opening his drawer and taking out the notebook manuscript. He said seriously, "Old Yi, you are a true literary giant!"
Isabelle was stunned, then burst into laughter.
"I think after this book is published, it will definitely be a bestseller, and you'll win so many literary awards you won't know what to do with them," Jiang Ye said. "Now, it's up to you. What do you plan to do with this book?"
"As you said, publish it!" Isabelle said. "And then make it a huge success!"
"Then let's discuss the publishing details," Jiang Ye said. "Before you came, I had already called publishing industry experts and talked for a long time."
"Coincidentally, I also met with publishing industry experts today," Isabelle said triumphantly. "I showed the backup of the novel to the publisher's editors. Without exaggeration, those editors were so excited they almost had seizures."
"Have you already sold it to a publisher?" Jiang Ye asked.
"How could that be possible?" Isabelle said. "Let me tell you my plan, and you can help me brainstorm."
Jiang Ye nodded emphatically.
"First," Isabelle said, "I want to release two versions of this book: a paperback version for the general public, and a limited hardcover edition with gilded edges. Whether it's paperback or hardcover, the design should be grand and beautiful, making readers feel that this book is high-class at first glance. It's over six hundred pages, a magnum opus."
"Over six hundred pages, have you considered dividing it into two volumes, or a Part One and Part Two?" Jiang Ye asked. "Looking at your novel, it can be broken off somewhere in the middle, which is very suitable for the plot. And readers, after finishing the first book, will definitely be eager to read the second one."