Chapter Six: Reunion

"Ah! You're Zhou Zixuan!"
A surprised voice came from the other end, clearly not expecting Zhou Xuan to call him.

"I'd like to know your magazine's final decision regarding my novel, 'Stories of the Ming Dynasty'," Zhou Xuan asked directly.

There was a brief pause before the reply came: "I saw your response a couple of days ago. The chief editor and editor-in-chief discussed it, and the result is that the royalty rate you requested is too high. We can only apologize," Wan Jinglin said.

Just as expected, Zhou Xuan thought to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Zhou Xuan continued, "If you're not confident about my book, I can sign a wager agreement with your company."

Wan Jinglin sounded intrigued, "What are the details?"

"If sales are under one hundred thousand copies, the royalty is five percent. If sales exceed one hundred thousand, for every additional one hundred thousand copies sold, the royalty increases by one percent, capped at twenty percent," Zhou Xuan explained.

"What!"
A startled exclamation came from the other end, clearly shocked by the boldness of the proposal.

Over thirty seconds passed before Wan Jinglin finally said, "This isn't something I can decide. I need to report it to the editor-in-chief. Please wait for my reply."

"Alright!"
Zhou Xuan was quite certain Xiling Publishing House would agree to his wager. After all, the agreement posed no real disadvantage to them.

The only possible downside was if sales exceeded one million copies—then Zhou Xuan would earn a fourteen percent royalty.

Fourteen percent was already the rate for renowned authors in China. As for twenty percent, only the very top literary talents received such treatment.

Rongcheng, Xiling Publishing House.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Editor-in-chief Wei Xiyue rubbed his temples, shaking his head at the manuscripts recommended by the editors before him.

Xiling Publishing House had existed for over a decade, but never produced a nationwide bestseller, relegating it to the ranks of second-tier publishers in China.

He looked through the submissions from the editors. None met his expectations.

At that moment, Wei Xiyue recalled that Ming dynasty book. A pity the author was asking for too high a price; otherwise, it truly had potential.

Hearing a knock, he said without looking up, "Come in."

Wan Jinglin entered, hesitating a little, "Editor-in-chief, the author of 'Stories of the Ming Dynasty' just called."

"Oh..." Wei Xiyue's mind turned, annoyed. "Ah, the author must not have received a reply and is calling us for an update. Even if we can't meet his demands, we should have notified him sooner. That's our oversight. Did you explain things to him?"

Wan Jinglin sat in the chair opposite Wei Xiyue, his expression serious. "I did explain, but he is very confident in his work. He also proposed a wager agreement, which requires your decision."

Wei Xiyue frowned, displeased, "Ha, what kind of wager agreement?"

Wan Jinglin recited Zhou Xuan's proposal and waited for the editor-in-chief's decision.

It was likely the first time Wei Xiyue had encountered such a wager. He was surprised, lost in thought.

According to the agreement, the terms posed little risk to the publisher; the only issue would be if sales exceeded one and a half million copies, requiring Xiling Publishing House to pay Zhou Zixuan a twenty percent royalty—a substantial amount.

Of course, reaching such a high royalty meant the book would be among the country's bestsellers.

To the publisher, twenty percent seemed excessive, but if the final sales reached one and a half million, the profit would far surpass the earnings from just two hundred thousand copies.

At that moment, Wei Xiyue was filled with curiosity about Zhou Xuan. What kind of confidence led him to hold such high expectations for his Ming dynasty book?

He had read 'Stories of the Ming Dynasty' and greatly appreciated its style, making dry history so engaging.

If Zhou Xuan's demands weren't so high, he would have championed the book himself, signing it with a ten percent royalty and betting on its sales.

But Zhou Xuan's conditions were too steep—eighteen percent royalties. With uncertain sales, Xiling Publishing House could not agree.

After thinking for a moment, Wei Xiyue said, "The wager is acceptable, but we need to discuss the details. For example, do we count per copy sold or total sales? And what about the time frame—are we talking about sales within one year or accumulated sales with no time limit?"

Wan Jinglin replied, "He didn't specify those points on the phone. Should I call him again to clarify?"

Wei Xiyue furrowed his brows and slapped his palm on the desk, "Just call Zhou Zixuan for his address. Tomorrow, we'll meet him to discuss the details. I want to see what kind of person dares to propose such an agreement."

"I'd like to meet Zhou Zixuan myself. Judging by his voice on the phone, he sounds quite young," Wan Jinglin said with a smile.

That afternoon, Zhou Xuan received Wan Jinglin's call. He was a little surprised that the editor-in-chief of Xiling Publishing House would visit him in person.

He hadn’t expected to be held in such high regard by the editor-in-chief; clearly, his strategy was working.

The next day, Zhou Xuan took the afternoon off and waited at home for the publisher's arrival in his county.

At three o'clock, Zhou Xuan met Wei Xiyue and Wan Jinglin at the Tianxin Teahouse in the central park.

Wei Xiyue, around forty, wore a casual suit, projecting an air of competence and shrewdness.

Zhou Xuan, on the other hand, wore a winter jacket from Metersbonwe, casual pants, and sports shoes—looking every bit the athletic high school student striving for university entrance in an ivory tower.

When Zhou Xuan sat before the two men, he clearly saw the surprise in their eyes.

Wei Xiyue picked up his teacup, took a sip, smacked his lips, and smiled, "I never expected the scholar we imagined to be such a young gentleman."

He extended his right hand, "I am Wei Xiyue, editor-in-chief of Xiling Publishing House."

Zhou Xuan stood slightly and shook his hand, smiling, "I've heard much about you. I am Zhou Zixuan—Zhou Xuan. Scholars wouldn’t write a history book for ordinary readers."

Wan Jinglin, beside them, asked uncertainly, "Are you really Zhou Zixuan? Did you write the Ming dynasty book?"

Zhou Xuan smiled playfully, "Would you like me to repeat our conversation from yesterday?"

"No need, your voice is unmistakable. I just can't believe someone so young wrote 'Stories of the Ming Dynasty.' Are you in high school or junior high?"

Wei Xiyue looked at Wan Jinglin, at a loss—his carefully crafted opening atmosphere had just been destroyed.

Wei Xiyue felt Zhou Xuan was far too mature, nothing like a secondary school student.

A voice in his mind whispered: Perhaps he could create a miracle?

"Ahem..." Wei Xiyue interrupted Wan Jinglin, then looked Zhou Xuan in the eye, "Zhou Xuan, is it? On what basis do you wish to sign a wager agreement with us?"