Chapter 105: The Master of Mastery

Pages 1-3

There are very few prominent wuxia writers in Mainland China, and most have only emerged in the past couple of years, with none having truly established themselves yet. When Zhang Tan released his two works about the Four Great Constables, he essentially became the leading figure among Mainland wuxia authors, earning the informal title of the top dog in the genre.

Of course, compared to the veteran masters from Hong Kong and Taiwan, his reputation still needs time and experience to deepen. Those established authors, although lacking epoch-defining figures like Jin Yong, Gu Long, Huang Yi, Liang Yusheng, or Wen Ruian, nonetheless include many outstanding writers who created numerous classic works. Many of these have been adapted into films and television series, forming a strong cultural foundation for wuxia.

Among the younger generation, writers like Zhang Feifan and Li Tiebì are also very active, with their works selling exceptionally well.

Zhang Tan reads these classics he never encountered in his previous life.

Occasionally, he fantasizes about whether he could, by mastering the classics of two eras and blending the strengths of hundreds of schools of thought, become the ultimate master of wuxia fiction.

After all, his works draw from the strengths of Wen Ruian’s Four Great Constables stories yet incorporate much of Jin Yong’s style along with the finest elements from other famous wuxia authors. Although his current body of work is still limited and the fusion not yet perfect—more of a patchwork than a masterpiece—the quality is still rough around the edges.

But as someone who has been reborn, Zhang Tan’s intellect and memory surpass those of many ordinary people; calling him astute is not an exaggeration.

This advantage supports his ability to write while learning, ultimately reaching the pinnacle of wuxia fiction. Even simply imitating Jin Yong’s writing style and storytelling could earn him entry into the great masters of the genre.

When the July issue of “Modern and Ancient Legends: Wuxia Edition” arrived, and Zhang Tan saw the praise lavished on him within its pages, he couldn’t help but feel pride, though he remained grounded, fully aware of his own limits. Becoming the ultimate master of wuxia fiction will require much more effort.

The Four Great Constables served as a stepping stone; now, the “Legend of the Condor Heroes” he is about to write is the first stride in that direction.

Click-clack.

Zhang Tan typed rapidly on his laptop.

“Chapter One: A Stormy Surprise.”

“The mighty Qiantang River flows tirelessly day and night, winding past Niu Family Village near Lin’an, rushing eastward into the sea…”

His typing speed grew faster and faster.

Rebirth granted him many advantages, one of which was that memories once forgotten became clear again. Zhang Tan had read Jin Yong’s novels many times, and now he could recall large passages effortlessly. With a well-planned outline, he only needed to follow it and use his memory to weave the story.

He had no need to worry about writer’s block caused by a lack of inspiration; as long as he had the energy, he could keep writing continuously.

At first, he wrote by hand, managing only a thousand words per hour. After switching to a laptop, his speed doubled to over two thousand words an hour. Now, he could easily type three thousand words per hour. If he set aside three hours a day for writing, that totaled over nine thousand words daily.

Writing twenty-five days a month, that amounted to more than two hundred thousand words.

This was more than twice as fast as his previous pace of sixty to seventy thousand words per month. Earlier on, Zhang Tan had been distracted by various matters but ultimately finished “The Four Great Constables Meet in the Capital” before June, demonstrating the effect of his increased writing speed. Theoretically, he could write this fast; in practice, however, he had to slow down slightly to proofread and revise awkward sentences, which took considerable time.

Eighteen thousand words a month was a realistic target.

According to his outline, “Legend of the Condor Heroes” would total around 1.2 million words, requiring six or seven months to complete—just in time for the New Year.

Serialized in “Modern and Ancient Legends: Wuxia Edition,” at sixty thousand words per issue, it could run for a year and a half.

Zhang Tan had already received word from Wang Conglun that “Wuxia Edition” would switch to a semi-monthly publication, releasing two issues per month. Since its inception, thanks to Zhang Tan and a group of promising new authors, the magazine’s circulation had repeatedly hit new highs and now approached half the circulation of the “Story Edition.”

Switching from a monthly to a semi-monthly schedule was a natural progression. Zhang Tan predicted that once his “Legend of the Condor Heroes” became a hit, “Wuxia Edition” would sell out regularly. Eventually, it might not only become semi-monthly but expand from 126 pages to 160 pages and even launch a month-end special edition.

At that point, Zhang Tan’s position would be truly unshakable.

In short,

The future looked bright. But now was the time to work hard.

“Keep writing, keep writing!”

…

July arrived, bringing the height of summer.

High school was about to begin summer vacation. After the break, the second-year classes would be reshuffled.

As the holiday approached, students felt a tinge of melancholy. Small groups of close friends often gathered to discuss whether they would be assigned to the liberal arts or science classes next semester.

Zhang Tan had little to say. With his firmly entrenched bottom-of-the-class grades in chemistry and physics, he was certain he wouldn’t be placed in the science classes. He was destined, as before, for Class 7 in the second year—the liberal arts slow track. His deskmate, Cao Yuchuan, who performed well academically, would almost certainly be assigned to the liberal arts fast track after the placement exam.

Zhu Dandan, who sat in the front row, was also likely headed for the liberal arts fast track; Gao Jie had already decided to join the science classes. As a mathematics prodigy with strong physics, chemistry, and biology grades, she was destined for one of the science fast-track classes—either Class 1 or Class 2, both science fast tracks.

At Shuangdun High School, this cohort comprised seven classes total. In the second year, they would be divided into four fast-track classes and three slow-track classes: two fast-track classes each for liberal arts and science, two slow-track science classes, and one slow-track liberal arts class.

In those days, the prevailing opinion was that only those lacking intelligence chose liberal arts, while the smart students went to science. Thus, the slow-track liberal arts Class 7 was essentially the school’s underperformers, dragging down the average grades. Still, the class wasn’t without merit, as many art, music, and sports students were placed there, and their chances of advancing to undergraduate programs were fair.

At least two or three students from the class would likely get into undergraduate arts or sports colleges.

“Ah, the class reshuffle is coming next semester. What should we do, Detective?” Cao Yuchuan fretted, unable to focus on her textbook at the thought of going to different classes.

“What do you mean, what should we do?” Zhang Tan asked, puzzled.

“If we end up in different classes, we won’t see each other as often.”

“That’s nonsense. We’re all in the same building; maybe even on the same floor. Oh, I guess you and Zhu Dandan will be in the liberal arts fast track, Gao Jie in the science fast track, so the three of you might be on the same floor. I’m destined for the liberal arts slow track, probably on a different floor.”

Gao Jie turned to glare sharply at Zhang Tan. “You should spend the summer catching up with extra classes. When the placement exam comes, aim to do better. It won’t be hard to get into the liberal arts fast track. You’re signed up for liberal arts; physics, chemistry, and biology won’t be tested, and your liberal arts grades aren’t bad!”

Cao Yuchuan immediately agreed, “Exactly! Detective, you should take extra classes over the summer. Let’s all try to get into the fast track!”

Zhang Tan shrugged, saying, “We’ll see. I’ll try to do better.”

For him, whether fast or slow track didn’t matter much; he planned to follow the arts student path and just needed to meet the minimum academic requirements.

Gao Jie continued to glare, “Not just try, you must!”

Zhu Dandan added, “No slacking!”

Cao Yuchuan nodded vigorously, “Yes, yes!”

Seeing their serious expressions, Zhang Tan smiled and nodded, “Alright, I promise!” Sometimes, these students were really quite endearing.

Just as he thought this, Li Jianjun from the back row interjected, “Detective, why bother trying so hard? Come join me in the slow track. There’s no pressure there.”