Chapter 71: A Life Unbound Needs No Explanation

“Over three thousand copies sold—did he cheat or something?” In the Mystery Writers’ House chat group, Li Siwei voiced what everyone was thinking. These numbers were unbelievable for a newcomer; not even many veteran, well-established authors could achieve such figures.

When Li Siwei’s own “Escape from Murder Island” was first released, it didn’t even break a thousand copies on its debut day, and that was after extensive pre-release hype from South Sea Publishing, who even enlisted several established masters to help promote it.

Now, Zhang Chu’s “Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective” was riding the tide of his overwhelming online popularity, effortlessly converting traffic into sales.

Li Jia couldn’t help but sigh as well. First-day sales weren’t even the true peak, especially for works like theirs that needed time for word-of-mouth to build. The highest sales might very well be several times the debut day.

“This book had such strong promotion—it was in the spotlight from the start. The company even issued a special copyright statement on his behalf, shutting up those foreign foundations. With this level of exposure, selling only three thousand copies seems like a failure, doesn’t it?”

“If only my own new book could sell as much as his.”

“Wait a minute, isn’t this just the physical book sales? Does anyone know how many e-books he’s sold?”

The question jogged the group’s memory—Zhang Chu’s main base was online, so his influence in the real world might be limited. Clearly, online sales made up the bulk!

Shi Yuanzhong drew in a sharp breath. He’d published several novels himself and could count on one hand the times he’d broken into the daily overall rankings. “Zhang Chu is truly remarkable—he tops the academic charts and now his writing is a hit. He’s a winner at life.”

“@Gu Xinxue, Editor Gu, are you there? Do you know the e-book sales for ‘Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective’?”

Feeling bold, Peng Hua tagged Gu Xinxue, doing a favor for everyone in the group.

Coincidentally, Gu Xinxue had just finished taking a screenshot. Seeing the message, he entered the Mystery Writers’ House group and typed: “As of 7:30 p.m., Zhang Chu’s ‘Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective’ has sold 5,711 e-books across all platforms and has broken into the top 20 on Amazon’s New Book chart.”

Anyone at South Sea Publishing could see these numbers; they weren’t confidential, though it was better to keep them within the industry.

Zhang Chu’s posts had millions of views online, yet only converted to just over five thousand purchases—but even that left the authors in the group astonished.

“Incredible! Is this newcomer planning to ascend to heaven?”

“E-books split profits 70/30—Zhang Chu must be raking it in!”

“Some people are destined for success—no one can stop them.”

“I’ve been writing for years and never seen a newcomer sell this much. If it weren’t Zhang Chu’s name, I’d have thought some grandmaster was running a discounted e-book promotion!”

“I read Zhang Chu’s ‘Criminal Psychology.’ The protagonist, Fang Mu, seems like a character with a rich backstory—that’s what a real suspense novel should be. I wonder when he’ll publish that one.”

For paid e-book downloads, a title like “Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective” was priced at 9.99 yuan, with 30% going to the platform and 70% to the publisher. Of the publisher’s share, 70% went to the author and 30% to the publisher. In sum, the author received as much as 49%—almost half! This was far higher than the royalty rate for physical books, which for Zhang Chu was only 5%.

Of course, the share depended on the type of book and the author; sales in the e-book and physical book markets could be very different. Some books sold better online, others in bookstores or online shops. Few works sold well in both, but it did happen.

Strictly speaking, “Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective” was hotter online, but its high e-book price deterred some readers. E-books varied widely in price; for example, the complete “Sherlock Holmes” could be bought for less than one yuan, while “Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective” cost ten. Readers did the math themselves.

“Why buy an expensive fanfic when you could just get the original?” was a common sentiment. If the e-book’s price were cut in half, or even more, sales would easily surpass five thousand!

Another factor was that the book wasn’t available on Weibo Reading, where Zhang Chu’s fans saw his advertisements most directly. A Weibo user who’d never used Amazon wouldn’t download the app or register just for a novel. On Weibo Reading, however, they might spend money more easily. This was a classic conflict between user habits and migration.

…

“What’s this? Only three thousand copies sold?” Chu Lan said, sounding unenthusiastic. She patted Zhang Chu on the shoulder. “Don’t cry, son. It’s actually pretty good.”

Her perfunctory tone was enough to make Zhang Chu’s heart ache. Was it so hard to offer a bit of genuine comfort?

“It’s really not bad!” Zhang Chu pouted. “It’s pretty good, but I’m not ‘Pretty Good.’”

Zhang Bowen, being in the bookshop business, kept an eye on all the bestseller lists. He pointed to the books ahead of Zhang Chu’s and said, “Look for yourself—of the ninety books ranked ahead of you, maybe only half are novels. Out of those forty-five, how many are by newcomers? How many are mysteries?”

“So, this is actually a pretty impressive result?”

“It certainly is. Don’t be fooled by how many books we’ve sold here—most of those sales are thanks to you. With this book as your foundation, your next works will be even stronger.”

As they spoke, Zhang Chu received a message from his editor Gu Xinxue with the e-book sales figures, making his smile even wider.

“Over five thousand e-books and more than three thousand physical copies—nearly nine thousand in total. That’s quite a sum of money!”

The whole family’s spirits lifted, and their heads huddled together as they carefully calculated just how much income “Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective” would bring in.

“Thank goodness I didn’t sign away the copyright outright—otherwise, I’d have lost out big time!”

A moderately successful book provided a steady stream of income over time, like water flowing from a spring. But with a buyout, you got a lump sum and nothing more, no matter how well it sold afterward.

…

Meanwhile, Li Siwei pondered in silence. Could being a Weibo “funny story” account really boost sales? Maybe he should start posting some jokes online and build a fanbase first.

He couldn’t help but envy Zhang Chu’s sales and success. Both were newcomers—why was there such a huge difference?

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Li Siwei racked his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything fresh; all he could do was recycle others’ ideas.

“Damn that Zhang Chu—how does he come up with so many funny ideas every day? If only he’d share a few with me!”

Little did he know, Zhang Chu had lived two lives and carried a system with him.

A life lived on cheat mode needs no explanation!