I’m Really a Superstar

It would have war.

And humanity.

And slice of life.

As well as love.

And history.

With this one novel, it would amaze everyone.

This was it! There wasn’t another work more suitable than this!

As Zhang Ye considered his options, he made his decision. Although he wasn’t sure if he could win the Nobel Prize in Literature in this world with his last-ditch efforts of writing a novel, he still had to give it a try. After all, this was the closest he had been to a place on the international celebrity rankings, and it was his one and only chance at it.

Knock knock.

There was a knock on the study’s door.

Zhang Ye looked up and smiled. “Come in.”

Wu Zeqing brought a cup of iced coffee into the study after opening the door.

“I told you already, there’s no need to knock,” Zhang Ye said.

Wu Zeqing smiled. “Alright. Here, have some coffee.”

Zhang Ye took it from her. “My wife still treats me the best. Has Sisi slept already?”

“She just fell asleep.” Wu Zeqing glanced at the computer screen and said, “What are you busy with?”

Zhang Ye said, “I’m about to make a book.”

Wu Zeqing smiled. “Others call it writing a book, but why do you call it making a book?”

Zhang Ye laughed. “It’s about the same thing.”

Wu Zeqing was the person who understood him the most. “You have your eyes on the Nobel Prize?”

“Yeah.” Zhang Ye said, “I’m thinking of trying for it.”

Wu Zeqing nodded. “Don’t tire yourself out, rest early.”

Zhang Ye said, “I will. Go sleep with Sisi. Don’t worry about me. I’m guessing I’ll have to put in some overtime over the next few days. There aren’t too many days left until the Nobel Prize selection.”

Wu Zeqing asked, “Are you confident of getting it?”

Zhang Ye gave a wry smile. “I think I have a 20% chance.”

He wouldn’t usually fight a battle that he wasn’t prepared for. But it was clearly a different matter this time. The Nobel Prizes were too important, so there was also a lot of uncertainty surrounding it. So it was definitely impossible for him to be 100% sure of winning it. Moreover, this matter had come up too abruptly, so there wasn’t really sufficient time for him to prepare. As such, Zhang Ye could only take it one step at a time.

After Old Wu left the room, Zhang Ye got down to business.

He downed the iced coffee in one gulp and rolled up his sleeves. Then he began reading in detail the history of the United States, especially the period in which Gone with the Wind was based on. Although there were some differences in the events and names of some people, the general history of this world was quite similar to that of his previous world, with some events even strikingly similar. This would reduce the obstacles in the creation of the novel. At the least, Zhang Ye wouldn’t have to make too many changes to it and would only need to tweak some minor details to avoid any problems. It would definitely not spoil the original work’s literary nature—which was what Zhang Ye placed the most importance on. He needed the novel to be in its most original form. Otherwise, if the two world’s history differed by too much, he would have chosen a different novel rather than blindly making changes to this one.

Research.

History fact-checking.

Then he also checked the types of novels that had won the Nobel Prize in Literature before seeking out the preferences of the past committees.

He even researched the committee members for this year’s Nobel Prize in Literature.

After doing all the necessary groundwork, Zhang Ye finally created a new file on the computer, naming it Gone with the Wind. Then he started tapping away at the keyboard and began writing the original English version of the novel. He had read many versions of this novel, having done a comparison of the English and Chinese versions, even perusing the Russian version when he was in university. Using the Memory Search Capsule, he could easily reproduce the different versions in their entirety.

…

Gone with the Wind.

Chapter I

A Beautiful Secret Admirer

(English Version)

Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. Her eyes were pale green without a touch of hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, her thick black brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in her magnolia-white skin—that skin so prized by Southern women and so carefully guarded with bonnets, veils and mittens against hot Georgia suns.

…

One page.

Two pages.

Three pages.

Gone with the Wind had an estimated word count of around 800,000 words.

But the English version was shorter, at 418,053 words ¹ .

With Zhang Ye’s speed, he could still write it out very quickly. After all, he had eaten the Fruit of Agility. Moreover, every single word of the original edition was imprinted in his mind, so there was basically no need for him to do any thinking. The words were already appearing onscreen at a cracking speed as he typed in double time.

Five pages.

Ten pages.

If Zhang Ye could type out around 8,000 words per hour, he shouldn’t have a problem with writing roughly 120,000 characters in about 15 hours. Even without putting in much overtime, it shouldn’t take him more than four days to finish writing it. Currently, his biggest rivals for the Nobel Prize in Literature were the Indian and Japanese writers. They had both recently published their new books and were making a final push in their bid for the Nobel Prize. As such, Zhang Ye knew that he could not fall behind them. At the least, he would have to catch up to them to ensure that they would all begin at the same starting point.

…

On the first day.

Zhang Ye typed out 120,000 words.

His eyes blurred at the number of words he had written.

…

The next day.

Zhang Ye wrote another 145,000 words.

He wrote for 18 hours.

…

On the third day.

Zhang Ye continue typing for 20 straight hours.

He finished writing 160,000 words.

He had completed work on the English version of this novel!

…

Sometimes, people just needed a push in order to achieve something. Without being their backs against the wall, humans would never know their limits. This was a saying that Zhang Ye deeply understood at this moment. Back then, when he brought out Fortress Besieged into this world, he didn’t even write it this fast. Moreover, he had been working on it continuously this time, which required a lot more willpower and stamina.

It was completed successfully!

Gone with the Wind had finally been brought into this world!

For a moment, Zhang Ye felt a sense of accomplishment.

He had read this book more than three times when he was in his previous world, and every time he read it, he gained a deeper understanding of it. After all these years, now that he was intending to bring the novel into this world, he went through the experience once more as he wrote it. The words that described the war and the pressures of living had given him an even deeper understanding. He really felt that words were beautiful and wondrous things.

This was truly a great novel!

No matter how many years had passed.

No matter which world it was.

No matter how many languages it was translated into!

It was truly a great novel!

All of a sudden, Zhang Ye called the studio. “Contact an overseas publishing house.”

Ha Qiqi replied: “Ah?”

“I’ve finished writing it.”

“What?”

You’ve finished writing it?

A full-length novel?

In three days?

Everyone at the studio was shocked into a daze!