208: Chapter 208 The Villain's Doomsday Has Arrived

The two returned to Song Siyi's apartment; it was already past one in the morning.

Song Siyi changed into her slippers and walked into the kitchen.

"You go lie down on the sofa first. I'll make you something to eat."

Jiang Fan walked into the living room, sank into the sofa, and rested his right hand naturally on the armrest.

He closed his eyes and mentally went through the things to come.

Six million copies were already being shipped; based on logistics speeds, buyers nationwide would receive them in three to five days.

Once this wave of hype passed, the film and television adaptation of journey to the west should be put on the agenda.

A dozen minutes later, the kitchen door pushed open, and Song Siyi walked out carrying a bowl of small wontons.

She walked to the sofa, placed the bowl on the coffee table, and sat down next to Jiang Fan.

"Can your hand really not hold chopsticks?" Song Siyi stared at the red, chafed webbing between his thumb and index finger.

"I signed over five thousand names, you try it." Jiang Fan extended his right hand toward her.

Song Siyi took his hand to look at it, said nothing more, picked up the spoon from the bowl, scooped up a wonton, blew on it a couple of times near her mouth, and held it to Jiang Fan's lips.

Jiang Fan opened his mouth and ate it.

"Is it too hot?"

"Not hot."

The bowl had a dozen wontons, and Song Siyi fed them all to him, one spoonful at a time.

Song Siyi put the empty bowl back on the coffee table, pulled out a tissue, and leaned over to wipe the corners of Jiang Fan's mouth.

"Alright, hurry up and sleep now that you've eaten. You still have five thousand copies left to sign tomorrow—"

"I'm thirsty, I want to drink some milk."

Jiang Fan leaned back against the sofa, his voice very casual.

Song Siyi had just thrown the used tissue into the trash can; upon hearing this, her hand paused in mid-air.

"There's milk in the fridge. I'll go get it for you."

"I don't want that kind of milk."

Jiang Fan didn't move; his gaze fell on the neckline of her blue knit sweater.

Song Siyi pulled back her hand, bit her lip, and the skin at the base of her neck slowly turned red.

"Jiang Fan, can you be serious?"

"I am being very serious. My hand is injured, can't you show me some pity?"

Song Siyi stared at him for three seconds.

She stood up, walked to the wall, and turned off the living room ceiling light.

She left only the floor lamp next to the coffee table, casting warm yellow light over half the living room.

She walked back to the sofa and sat down next to Jiang Fan.

After a few seconds of silence, she lowered her head, pinched the hem of her knit sweater with her fingers, and slowly rolled it up.

"Just this once."

"Mm."

The blue knit sweater was pushed up above her collarbone.

Jiang Fan reached over with his left hand and pushed aside the fabric that was in the way.

Song Siyi turned her head away, not looking at him.

"Be gentle."

"Mm."

Twenty minutes later.

Song Siyi straightened her back and smoothed out the hem of her sweater.

Her face was still flushed, and both of them had a layer of fine sweat on their bodies.

She pulled the sweater down, flattened the wrinkles, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Satisfied?"

"Mm. The taste was good."

Song Siyi raised her hand and patted his head.

"You're such a little bastard."

Jiang Fan slid down, his whole body sprawling on the sofa.

"Drinking milk worked up a sweat. Sister Siyi, help me scrub my back too; my hand hurts."

Song Siyi turned to look at his right hand hanging by his side.

She was silent for two seconds.

"Jiang Fan, don't you dare push your luck endlessly."

"My hand really hurts." Jiang Fan lifted his right hand and shook it.

Song Siyi glanced at it, then at his righteous-looking face, and grabbed a cushion from the sofa, smashing it into his face.

The sound of the shower started in the bathroom. Song Siyi took the bath sponge from the rack, applied body wash, rubbed it a few times in her hands, and white foam bubbled up.

She took the bath sponge and wiped it on Jiang Fan's back.

Jiang Fan's right hand didn't move, but his left hand wasn't idle.

"Stop messing around, I'm washing you." Song Siyi pushed him with her elbow.

After washing and drying off, the two walked into the bedroom one after the other.

Jiang Fan lay on the bed, his right hand resting flat by the pillow.

Song Siyi stood at the head of the bed, tucked her hair behind her ears, glanced at Jiang Fan, bent her left leg, and straddled him.

"If you aren't going to move yourself, don't complain about my poor technique."

"Feel free to perform as you like." Jiang Fan looked at her.

The room didn't have the main light on; the small bedside lamp was on, casting light onto Song Siyi's front.

She supported herself with her palms on Jiang Fan's chest, her hair falling down, which she swept to one side, covering half her face.

Song Siyi's breathing frequency became faster and faster.

In the middle of the night, the movement in the bedroom ceased.

Song Siyi lay on Jiang Fan's shoulder, motionless, a few strands of hair stuck to her forehead by sweat.

The system panel popped up and appeared before Jiang Fan's eyes.

[Deep Compatibility × 2, Lifespan Value + 600]

[Current Lifespan Value: 91,800 points]

[Remaining Lifespan: 332 days]

— —

The sky gradually brightened, and courier stations across the country opened for business.

Cardboard boxes with the "Qitian Culture" logo were piled on the sorting belts; packages were scanned, loaded onto trucks, and transported to various delivery outlets.

Today was Saturday, a male dormitory at a certain university in Magic City.

A male student wearing big shorts pushed open the dormitory door, holding a square courier box in his arms.

He walked to his desk, picked up the utility knife on the table, and sliced through the packing tape.

The cardboard box opened, and inside were the upper and lower volumes of journey to the west.

The student impatiently took out the first volume and flipped open the hardcover cover.

On the white paper surface were two black handwritten characters.

[Jiang Fan]

The student held the book, looked at it for two seconds, and opened his mouth to shout.

"Holy shit, I got one!"

The other three roommates in the dorm who were playing games threw down their mice and all crowded over.

Four heads squeezed together, staring at those two words on the page.

"Damn, it's really a signed copy! Has your hand been blessed?"

The student laid the book flat on the table, took out his phone, aimed it at the signature, took a photo, opened Douyin, and uploaded the picture.

Caption: "Pulled a signed copy. My luck is unmatched."

Less than ten minutes after posting, the background notification sound rang continuously.

The number of comments quickly broke a thousand.

"Bro, are you selling? I'll offer two hundred."

"To hell with two hundred! I'll offer one thousand! Transferring money right now!"

"One thousand five! Check your private messages, add me on WeChat and I'll pay directly!"

The student scrolled through the messages on the screen and swallowed hard; he had only spent thirty-nine yuan and nine cents to buy this set of regular edition books.

In less than an hour, on a certain second-hand trading platform, hundreds of links regarding the signed edition of journey to the west popped up.

Scalpers were buying books at high prices in major forums, university groups, and fan groups.

The acquisition price for the regular signed edition soared from a few hundred to over two thousand.

The price of the signed hardcover gift box edition rose even higher; some people were directly listing orders for five thousand in cash, requesting an in-person inspection and transaction within the same city.

The blind box effect had completely fermented on the internet.

Those who bought the regular unsigned edition were unwilling to give up, and those who hadn't grabbed the first wave of pre-sales were even more anxious.

Under the official Weibo of Qitian Culture, fifty thousand comments were made within an hour, and the comment section was entirely flooded.

"Great Master Jiang, I beg you, sign another ten thousand copies!"

"I'll pay the money, you pay with your life, sign one for me!"

"When is the second wave of pre-sales coming?!"

"Buying a Jiang Fan personally signed hardcover edition at a premium, price is negotiable, DM me if you have one!"

— —

Magic City, headquarters building of Qishi Chinese Network.

Vice President Zhou Ming sat in front of the computer, looking at the trending topics list.

#journey to the west blind box signed edition hyped to five thousand#

Half a month ago, he had tried every possible way to use channels and the Writers Association to seal this book in the printing factory.

Now, even a signature on a second-hand book could sell for five thousand yuan.

The money he had spent had all become a stepping stone to build momentum for Jiang Fan.

The phone on his desk began to vibrate.

Vice President Zhou Ming picked it up and took a look; it was a link sent by a friend in the industry.

He clicked it open; it was an official notification.

"Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan of the Writers Association has been removed from his post and is under investigation for suspected violations of regulations and abusing his position for personal gain."