Chapter 31: The Fallen Genius
“I have four types of novels I won’t read.”
“First, authors with bad records—I won’t read them. Once an author has had an episode, I won’t read anything they write afterward.”
“Second, literary youth authors—I won’t read them. These authors are always chasing literary pursuits, like pain, salvation, forgiveness—it’s exhausting to read.”
“Third, stock trading novels—I won’t read them. Either single female lead, or harem or no female lead. Stock trading is like going to a buffet, but you can only look and not eat.”
Yu Wei looked at Qi Luo An who had suddenly started talking freely, and a question couldn’t help but surge in his heart.
Who asked you?
After being exposed, she didn’t even pretend anymore. She just hesitated slightly before switching to talking about novels, which was basically giving up resistance directly.
As for how Yu Wei discovered it… Actually, he just thought a bit more and casually tested it out.
In novels, if a character wears a mask, the protagonist won’t recognize them—that’s normal and logically sound, but people can’t help overthinking.
Qi Luo An understood this point too. Deceiving someone requires an extremely meticulous plan, but the deceived person can break the situation with countless methods just from a sliver of doubt.
Actually, she wasn’t really trying to deceive anyone, otherwise she wouldn’t have said so many true things. Her fake identity couldn’t withstand scrutiny at all.
She just wanted to see Yu Wei’s reaction. How he differed in person from online when facing a stranger.
Just like a male college student pretending to be a girl to trick his roommate—tricking about nothing, purely enjoying the process of watching an acquaintance squirm…
Being exposed was equally interesting.
Only at this moment did the two finally feel that netizen-meeting awkwardness—like they were very familiar, but face-to-face, neither knew how to start talking for a moment.
“If it were you, how would you write the plot of netizens meeting?”
“I’d probably write one side knowing and the other not, for better program effect, and it makes it easier to arrange emotional tension later.”
There are plenty of similar netizen-meeting plots in male-oriented novels. In refreshers, they’d have the female lead unaware, letting the male lead probe.
If it’s a romance dog food novel, the male lead is temporarily kept in the dark, while the female lead’s little deer rams around but holds it back.
“No wonder you’re a failure.”
Qi Luo An breathed a sigh of relief, finally rediscovering how to get along with Yu Wei.
Yu Wei didn’t retort. Web novel tropes were all successful experiences from predecessors—crossing the river by feeling the stones was better than slipping and drowning.
He didn’t waste words and immediately went back to the shop to renew a table…
Next was the second round: the honest round.
“We agreed on free of charge, but ended up spending two cups of coffee.”
Qi Luo An gave him a blank look, her mood a bit strange. Online, saying free of charge free of charge was nothing, but saying “I’m gonna free of charge you” face-to-face sounded awkward no matter how you heard it.
She must have lost her mind to come in person, not wanting to act or be famous—this was just asking for trouble…
At the time, her mind was full of wanting to see what ghost trick Yu Wei was up to, and in a heat of the moment, she agreed. Too late to regret afterward.
Sure enough, women’s curiosity is the original sin.
Seeing her silent for so long, Yu Wei subconsciously glanced over, only then discovering Qi Luo An was taking off her hat.
She slightly puffed out her chest, hands clasped behind her head to undo the hat buckle. Her arms and shoulders formed a subtle balance at that moment, showcasing her fine figure to the fullest.
“What are you looking at?”
“Uh… Beret has a buckle?”
“Country bumpkin, this is a windproof securing buckle.”
Whether he was looking at the hat was something they both knew in their hearts, but there was no need to discuss this kind of thing—talking too much would just be awkward.
“No formal self-introduction?”
Although Yu Wei had guessed most of it, it was their first meeting after all—better have some sense of ceremony.
“Qi Luo An, sophomore in Chinese Language and Literature at Jiaotong University.”
Hearing her surname Qi, the last bit of doubt in Yu Wei vanished. So there really was an insider traitor by his side…
But he truly hadn’t expected Qi Luo An’s entertainment industry background to be so solid, and she really was a civilian, with a major completely unrelated to art.
“What you said about your family before, is it true?”
“Why would I lie? My grandmother is a first-class actor at the theater, and she really taught me a lot.”
Qi Luo An spoke frankly and openly, without any intention of showing off—like stating something completely ordinary.
She had no plans to be a star, no pulling connections or backdoors, so naturally nothing to hide…
Yu Wei was psychologically prepared for this, so his expression remained calm. Luo Qi’s grandmother was real, so An An’s director dad was real too.
Plus Qi Yuan, their family really had deep hereditary arts background—connections and influence were imaginable.
My reader is an entertainment family heiress—what a failing entertainment novel author’s ultimate fantasy before death…
“With this background, you’re not becoming a star?”
Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes—many things she understood. Even without parental shade, just growing up immersed in art, she shouldn’t have ended up like this.
Star second generation: either like Meng Lei, getting attention from childhood then legitimately becoming a star, or like that batch from “Where Are We Going, Dad?”, directly taking the internet celebrity route to flaunt wealth and show off life high-profile.
The ambitious ones, like Qi Yuan, start from zero on the surface, but others still give special treatment reading the room.
But true ones like her, not planning to touch the family capital at all, were rare…
“I was interested when I was little. Grandmother taught me a lot—singing, acting—but later I lost interest.”
There’s no love without reason, no hate without cause. Childhood preferences don’t change easily. From her tone, there was clearly a story.
But Yu Wei didn’t plan to ask. For such a major life turning point, if she wanted to share, she would; if not, asking was useless.
In short, Qi Luo An’s entertainment experience had abruptly ended from a very young age. The entertainment industry lost a talented star second generation, but the internet gained a novel-reading homebody.
Chapter one: The fallen genius.
Popularity value, stage three…
“So can I still get free of charge?”
Yu Wei was more concerned about his short film. How much of her childhood skill remained to this day?
“It’s good enough if it’s usable—you’re still picky?”
Qi Luo An glared at him grumpily, even her forehead bangs trembling along—that truly chilled the heart.
She, who didn’t like acting, was going all out accompanying this gentleman, yet this guy had the nerve to be choosy—really spoiled.
“Do you know what you remind me of?”
Yu Wei looked at Qi Luo An who kept sighing, and proactively tossed the topic over.
“What?”
“The protagonist in those slacking off entertainment novels—mouth saying ‘oh I don’t want to be famous, I wanna be a salted fish,’ then not missing a single entertainment industry showing off moment.”
Anti-trope entertainment novels are like that—fun for a laugh, but get serious and the protagonist’s image gets weird. If not handled well, readers will criticize for wanting it both ways.
Qi Luo An felt like he hadn’t said anything, but also like he’d cursed very filthily…
Lies don’t hurt; truth is the sharp blade.
She felt like she really had a bit of that vibe now.
“Then why don’t you find someone better?”
