novelRona Chapter 1608 One Breath
Chapter 1608 One Breath
He Han sat on the sofa in the hotel suite, staring at his phone screen for almost twenty minutes.
On the screen were the data he had repeatedly refreshed three or four times—Qin Hao's "Sword Comes" had surpassed 500,000 favorites within 24 hours of its release, topping the bestseller list and dominating the donation list. The book review section was abuzz with excitement; some were analyzing the plot chapter by chapter, others were listing the top donors, and many more were posting the same sentence—
"Ye Qing is back."
After hesitating for a long time, He Han finally mustered up the courage to open his contacts and found the name "Lin Zhanqiao".
beep - beep - beep -
The call was answered halfway through the third ring.
"Hey?"
Lin Zhanqiao's voice carried a hint of surprise. It was this late; He Han rarely called her on his own initiative.
"I'm preparing to announce the 'six states broken' tomorrow."
There was a sudden silence on the other end of the phone.
After about three or four seconds, Lin Zhanqiao's voice rang out again, with an barely suppressed urgency: "Are you crazy? Going to confront Lao Qin head-on at a time like this?"
"I've made up my mind."
He Han's tone was very calm, so calm that there was not a ripple in his voice.
But this calmness was more unsettling to Lin Zhanqiao than any intense emotion. She knew He Han too well. What kind of person was he usually? Gentle, tactful, and easy to talk to. But when he spoke in this tone, it meant—he had made up his mind, and no one could stop him.
There was a rustling sound coming from the other end of the phone, like someone hurriedly putting on a coat and grabbing keys.
"Are you at the hotel? I'll come find you."
Whether you come or not, I won't change my mind.
Lin Zhanqiao paused for a moment. She could hear the determination in He Han's tone, a stubbornness that wouldn't turn back even after hitting a wall.
A feeling of powerlessness welled up in my chest, like punching cotton, unable to exert any force.
"What's gotten into you again?" Lin Zhanqiao's voice lowered: "'Six States Breakthrough' is something we spent half a year working on, staying up countless nights to figure out bit by bit. Don't forget, it's not just your hard work, it's mine too."
"That's why I wanted to give it a try."
He Han's voice was so sincere that Lin Zhanqiao was speechless.
"A test?" She paused for a few seconds, then spoke again, her tone urgent. "This isn't a test, it's a gamble! While content is king in online literature, promotion is equally important—this is no longer the era where good wine needs no bush, do you understand? Didn't you see the promotional efforts for Qin Hao's 'Sword Comes'? TopQi.com pushed it across all channels, app splash screens, homepage banners, social media platforms... What do you have to compete with them?"
He Han did not answer immediately.
Only the static crackling of the telephone could be heard. The city lights outside shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a blurry shadow on the floor.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his tone more somber than before: "I know Lao Qin is very strong. He has more fans than me, and Dingqi.com allocates more recommendation resources to him. I know all of this."
He paused.
"But 'The Six States Breakthrough' is my most satisfying work to date."
"No matter what, I'm going to give it a try."
Lin Zhanqiao stood in the entryway, phone in hand, motionless. She had already put on her coat and was clutching her keys, but she couldn't bring herself to leave.
Because she suddenly realized—she couldn't stop him.
It wasn't because she lacked the ability, but because she knew that if she insisted on stopping him, He Han would likely listen to her. But if that happened, the fire in He Han's heart would be extinguished.
Having worked as an editor for so many years, she's seen countless authors. Some authors possess superb skills, precise character development, and impeccable pacing—but their writing always falls short of something. What is that missing piece? It's confidence, a do-or-die determination, and the youthful spirit of "I'll push myself to the limit."
While technique is important for online writers, what truly moves readers is often their spirit and energy.
Take, for example, "Battle Through the Heavens"—the line "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river, never underestimate a young man's potential" perfectly captures the spirit of youth. When the author, Potato, wrote this line, he hadn't yet achieved fame and success; he only had a keyboard and a burning passion, his heart filled with an unyielding stubbornness. If he had written "Battle Through the Heavens" when he was in his thirties, with a fulfilling life and great achievements, he might not have been able to create such a moving effect.
Lin Zhanqiao took a deep breath.
"Okay, I promise you."
She heard herself say those words as if she were making a decision for someone else.
"But you can't just act recklessly. Come to the company tomorrow, let's have a meeting and come up with a complete plan."
He Han was silent for two seconds on the other end of the phone.
"it is good."
After hanging up the phone, Lin Zhanqiao stood in the entryway, staring at the end-of-call screen on her phone for a long time.
Then she threw the keys back onto the shoe cabinet, and without even taking off her coat, she just stood there against the wall.
After a long pause, he chuckled self-deprecatingly: "You've gone mad too, going mad with him?"
-
The next day.
7:30 in the morning.
When He Han appeared in the office area of Zhixing Company, the receptionist almost dropped a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
"Teacher He...Teacher He Han?"
He Han smiled at her and nodded.
Good morning, Teacher He Han!
"Why did Teacher He Han come today?"
"Hello, Teacher He Han!"
The editors they encountered in the corridor were all stunned. They knew He Han almost never came to the company. He was the highest-earning author on the platform, with the most freedom; Lin Zhanqiao would communicate with him directly, or she would go to his office. He Han coming to the company on his own initiative—this was a scene they saw only a few times a year.
He Han nodded and greeted everyone along the way, with his usual gentle smile on his face.
"I'm here to see General Manager Lin."
But as soon as he walked away, the editors behind him immediately gathered together.
"Did you guys notice that Teacher He Han's expression was a bit off today?"
"Something's not right? It seemed perfectly normal, and it even smiled at me."
"Stop being a fangirl. Didn't you notice—Teacher He Han's smile is forced? It's like... he's trying too hard to smile."
Everyone looked at each other.
Before they could come to a conclusion, the glass door to the office area was pushed open from the outside.
Lin Zhanqiao strode in, her high heels clicking.
Today she wore a black suit skirt, her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and her makeup was heavier than usual—not subtly heavy, but deliberately heavy to conceal something. Her lipstick was a deep color, making her skin appear even whiter, but also colder.
She glanced around the office area, her gaze lingering on the receptionist for a moment.
"Everyone, please come to the conference room in ten minutes for a meeting."
After saying that, she ignored everyone's reaction and walked straight to her office, her high heels clicking rapidly on the floor.
The office area was quiet for two seconds, then erupted into chaos.
"A meeting? Now?"
"What's wrong with President Lin today? Did he take some kind of gunpowder?"
"I haven't had breakfast yet—"
"Stop talking nonsense and grab your pen and notebook!"
He Han stood at the door of Lin Zhanqiao's office and stepped aside when he saw her walking over.
Lin Zhanqiao stopped in front of him and glanced at him.
The two looked at each other for a moment, but neither of them spoke.
Then Lin Zhanqiao pushed open the door and said without turning her head, "Come in."
He Han followed him inside.
The office door closed behind them.
The editors outside exchanged glances—the ominous premonition was growing stronger.
-
Ten minutes later.
The conference room was filled with people sitting on both sides of the long table.
Zhao Lanxin sat in the second seat to Lin Zhanqiao's left, a laptop open in front of her, her hands crossed on the table, her expression calm and unreadable. Ling Yikai sat opposite her, legs crossed, twirling a pen in his hand, his gaze sweeping across the conference room as if counting heads.
He Han sat in the first seat to Lin Zhanqiao's right, the seat closest to her. He sat very upright, with his hands on the table, his back straight, without making any unnecessary movements.
The meeting room door closed.
Lin Zhanqiao stood at the top of the long table, her hands supporting her on the surface, and looked around.
"I've called everyone here today to announce something."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough that every word reached the ears of everyone present.
He Han's new book, "The Breakthrough of Six States," will be released tomorrow.
The words fell.
There was a moment of silence in the conference room for about two seconds.
Then--
"what?!"
"Mr. Lin, you're not joking, are you? Releasing a book at this time—isn't that like throwing an egg against a rock?"
"Ahem, of course I'm not saying that Professor He Han's new book is bad... but Dingqi.com has been focusing all its promotional resources on Professor Qin Hao lately, so if we go for it now, our chances of winning are—"
The sentiment of everyone present was that the chances of winning were slim. In fact, they were practically nonexistent.
“Yes, why does it have to be released now?” another editor couldn’t help but chime in: “That’s the only Supreme God on Dingqi.com right now! Everyone has seen the data for ‘Sword Comes’—500,000 favorites on the first day, it topped the bestseller list, and even more on the donation list…”
She didn't continue, but everyone knew what she wanted to say.
The data for "Sword Comes" is terrifying.
That kind of despair-inducing terror. The second-place bestseller was ten times behind it, and the top ten on the donation list were all Gold Alliance Masters—this level of dominance has only occurred a handful of times in the entire history of the online literature industry.
At this juncture, what's the difference between confronting Qin Hao head-on and walking into a knife's edge?
The meeting room erupted in a flurry of chatter.
Lin Zhanqiao didn't interrupt immediately. She stood there, listening to the editors' questions, objections, and concerns, which came in waves like a tide.
To Lin Zhanqiao's surprise, Zhao Lanxin was someone who, in this situation, would never have let her go.
But Zhao Lanxin said nothing.
She sat in her seat, her hands clasped on the table, a half-smile playing on her lips. Her eyes were as calm as still water, revealing nothing of her thoughts.
Lin Zhanqiao's heart skipped a beat.
The quieter Zhao Lanxin was, the more uneasy she felt.
But she didn't have time to think about it. Another voice pulled her back to reality.
"Bam—"
A muffled thud.
Ling Yikai slammed the laptop down on his desk.
The sound was jarring in the noisy conference room, like a bucket of cold water being poured over someone's head, silencing all other sounds. Everyone's eyes turned to him.
Ling Yikai stood up.
He usually gave off a friendly impression at the company—always dressed in a suit and tie, always smiling, and handling business situations with ease. But at this moment, his face was filled with undisguised anger.
"This is utter nonsense."
His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried weight, as if squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Everyone saw how 'Sword Comes' performed on its first day of release. Others were trying to avoid it, and you still wanted to walk into the line of fire?"
He didn't even glance at He Han when he said this.
But everyone present knew perfectly well who he was targeting.
He Han did not respond immediately.
He lowered his head and remained silent for a few seconds, then slowly stood up.
"My book hasn't even been released yet, how do you know I can't win?"
Ling Yikai had always regarded He Han as a rival in love, so naturally he wouldn't let go of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He pushed his chair back, took two steps forward, and stood in front of He Han, staring intently at him.
"Come on, ask anyone here—"
Ling Yikai raised his hand and made a half-circle gesture towards everyone in the conference room.
"Who believes you can win? Everyone is telling the truth—if there's even one person who believes you can, I'll fully support you."
After those words were spoken, the meeting room fell silent.
It was so quiet that even the hum of the air conditioner became exceptionally clear.
The editors exchanged glances, like a flock of sheep cornered, none daring to speak first. He Han was the company's most profitable author, their bread and butter. Ling Yikai was a partner, a shareholder. They couldn't afford to offend either of them.
No one spoke.
A cold smile crept onto Ling Yikai's lips. He turned to look at He Han, his expression saying, "See?"
He Han didn't care about these people's reactions.
He never expected anyone to support him. He made this decision not to gain anyone's approval. He simply wanted to write a book, a book he felt he could be worthy of his hard work. As for whether others believed him or not—that was their business.
He turned his head and looked at Lin Zhanqiao.
Lin Zhanqiao did not hesitate.
She straightened up from the table and stood upright. She wasn't as tall as He Han, but she stood there with her back ramrod straight, her gaze sweeping across the room without flinching.
"I provided most of the setting and framework for the book 'The Six States Break.'"
"He Han wrote it very well. I can say with certainty that this is He Han's best book to date. In terms of quality alone, it is comparable to 'Sword Comes'."
Upon hearing this, a collective gasp filled the conference room.
Is it comparable to "Sword Comes"?
This assessment carries different weight coming from Lin Zhanqiao. Lin Zhanqiao is a recognized top editor in the industry; her judgment in books is never wrong. If she says "Six States Break" is comparable to "Sword Comes"—it means that this book at least deserves to be considered a contender.
Ling Yikai's expression changed.
He hadn't expected Lin Zhanqiao to publicly support He Han in this setting. It was tantamount to declaring her stance in front of everyone—she stood with He Han, not him.
"Since you've made your decision, Mr. Lin—"
Ling Yikai sneered, walked out of his seat, and reached out to open the conference room door. The metal handle gleamed coldly under the light.
"Why are you calling us to a meeting? Is this some kind of notification?"
After saying that, he walked out without looking back.
The meeting room door wasn't closed; he pushed it, it bounced back, and then slowly opened a crack. A gust of wind from the corridor blew in, causing the documents on the table to rustle as they turned a few pages.
Lin Zhanqiao stared at the crack in the door, remained silent for two or three seconds, then looked away and focused her gaze back on the editors present.
"I will work on things with President Ling."
Her voice returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.
"Since He Han has decided to give it his all, we must give him our full support. A victory would bring him fame, and even a defeat would be honorable. Let me clarify the division of labor first—"
She opened the folder in front of her, her tone gradually returning to its usual capable manner.
"Xiao Liu, you'll be in charge of the operations and promotion plan. I'll give you special approval for the budget, so don't hold back."
"Xiao Wang, you're in charge of coordinating the recommendation slots with Dingqi.com. Go ask Editor-in-Chief Zhou if you can coordinate a few more slots."
"He Han, you should stick to your own update schedule. Don't sacrifice quality for speed."
She laid out the instructions one by one, her tone firm and her logic clear, like a general calmly directing troops on the battlefield. Under her direction, the atmosphere in the meeting room gradually eased. The editors began taking notes; some discussed the scheduling in hushed tones, while others typed rapidly in their notebooks.
It was almost eleven o'clock when the meeting ended.
Zhao Lanxin was the first to walk out of the meeting room.
It was very windy on the rooftop.
The morning sun had just risen above the rooftop of the office building across the street, casting a warm yellow glow across the concrete ground. Several potted plants rustled in the wind in the corner, and a gray towel, left behind by someone, hung on the clothesline, swaying in the breeze.
Ling Yikai was indeed here.
He leaned against the rooftop railing, a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers, the smoke billowing in the wind, forming a thin white mist around him. Hearing footsteps, he turned around—and upon seeing Zhao Lanxin, his expression instantly shifted from anticipation to undisguised disappointment.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his mouth full of cigarette smoke.
Zhao Lanxin walked over to him and leaned against the railing. She didn't look at him, her gaze fixed on the distant buildings: "The rooftop isn't your private property. If you can come, why can't I?"
Ling Yikai choked for a moment, opened his mouth but then closed it again, and finally simply stubbed out the cigarette and threw it on the ground.
"Fine, I'll go then."
He took a step to leave.
"And then?" Zhao Lanxin's voice came from behind, unhurried: "Lin Zhanqiao flatters you a few times, and you're already fawning over her?"
Ling Yikai stopped in his tracks.
"Aren't you also fawning over her? And without any scruples at all."
So that's why.
Zhao Lanxin turned around to face him, her arms crossed over her chest:
“We need to unite. The company can no longer be run by Lin Zhanqiao alone.”
Ling Yikai stared at her for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh:
"Want to rebel? What makes you think you can? The company's most profitable author is in Lin Zhanqiao's hands. Don't forget, in the online literature industry, content is king."
He said this with a hint of sarcasm, but more so with a sense of helpless acceptance of reality.
Zhao Lanxin was not speechless at his words.
She tilted her head slightly, and the smile on her lips widened a bit:
"What if I sign Qin Hao?"
This sentence was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.
Ling Yikai's expression froze. He stared at Zhao Lanxin for several seconds, as if trying to determine if she was joking.
Then, he looked her up and down with the eyes of someone looking at an idiot:
"Are you dreaming? Why would Qin Hao sign with you? He just renewed his contract with Dingqi.com, you know that."
"The contract is only for three years," Zhao Lanxin replied calmly, her tone carrying a composed certainty. "As for why I should sign a contract—"
She paused, took half a step forward, and slightly tilted her chin up to look at Ling Yikai:
"Not only do I not take a commission from his income, but I also provide him with the best service. If you were in his shoes, would you refuse?"
"No commission?" Ling Yikai frowned. "Then why did you sign him? To do charity?"
Have you ever heard of spending a fortune to buy a horse's bones?
When Zhao Lanxin uttered those four words, the smile in her eyes deepened, like a hunter slowly tightening the rope of a snare.
Ling Yikai remained silent.
He wasn't stupid. The moment Zhao Lanxin mentioned "spending a fortune to buy a horse's bones," he immediately understood her meaning—signing Qin Hao wasn't about profiting from him, but about using Qin Hao's name as a brand to attract more high-quality authors to join Zhixing. Even if Qin Hao himself didn't contribute to the profits, the brand effect and industry influence he brought would be enough to multiply Zhixing's valuation several times over.
This logic is indeed sound.
But the question is—is it so easy for Qin Hao to sign?
Ling Yikai stood there, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the cigarette pack in his pocket, his brows furrowed, lost in thought.
Zhao Lanxin didn't rush him. She knew Ling Yikai needed time to process this information. She leaned against the railing, letting the wind ruffle the stray hairs on her forehead, her gaze calmly fixed on the distance.
After a long while, Ling Yikai finally spoke.
But he did not comment.
"Then let's talk about it after you sign Qin Hao."
After saying that, he turned and strode out of the rooftop. The fire door closed behind him with a dull thud.
Zhao Lanxin stood alone on the rooftop, gazing in the direction Ling Yikai had disappeared, the smile on her lips slowly fading. (End of Chapter)