After The Web Novel Great God Transmigrated As A Scummy Online Dating Top - Chapter 21
Chapter 21
After astonishing her little uncle with a single sentence, Lin Muxue returned to her room in a pleasant mood.
However, when she logged onto the Green Dog website to check her daily earnings, she discovered a sudden influx of negative ratings on her new novel. Seeing that these comments were mostly copy-pasted in organized threads, she realized she had attracted “red-eyed” jealousy after hitting the “Rising Stars” chart and was being targeted by a smear campaign.
She picked up her phone, which had been “retiring” on her bedside table all day, and opened her QQ account. Sure enough, her editor, Lyuliu, had sent several messages.
Lyuliu: Hon, your new story has been called out on the forums. I’ve already applied to have the threads locked and cleaned up. Lyuliu: A few authors incited their readers to group up and spam negative ratings on your work. There’s some nasty talk, but don’t take it to heart. Don’t even look at it for now; I’ll have the admins audit and delete them. Lyuliu: Are you there? Do you have drafts ready? If you’re feeling down, feel free to reduce your update frequency. Use your drafts to hold the line—just don’t let the story crumble.
Not every editor was this proactive and responsible. For one, Lyuliu was naturally energetic and hadn’t been in the industry long enough to become jaded. Secondly, she didn’t currently have any “Great God” authors under her wing. Since an editor’s salary is tied to the revenue of their authors’ paid (VIP) chapters, Lyuliu was more invested in The Mystery Case Files than Lin Muxue herself.
It was already 7:30 PM, and the editor had finished work, but Lin Muxue replied anyway.
Mu Qianshan: Thanks, Editor. I have drafts. I understand.
Sitting at her computer, she casually scrolled through the negative comments that now occupied half of the review section, creating an illusion of “universal condemnation.”
My Star is Sweet: Get out of Green Dog, you external site bot-user! Study Hard: Get out of Green Dog, you external site bot-user! … Low Battery: LOL, Green Dog is falling off. How can this trash be #1 on the Rising Stars chart? Dark Monday: Giving my first-ever negative rating, don’t mention it~ Mr. Numbers: Let me educate everyone: this author is a “Great God” from an outside site—though who knows if that title is even real. They teamed up with a certain minor celebrity for a marketing stunt as soon as they arrived… People have found out they have a “relationship” with a certain Green Dog editor. They used the back door for a prime chart spot… 20,000 collections for a veteran author being beaten by a few thousand? Talk about heavy botting. Do you think we’re blind? LOL!
Amidst the chaos, a few genuine readers tried to defend her.
Network Loading: Where did these people come from? None of them sound like they’ve actually read the book. Hilarious. Bad Brackets: She’s clearly being targeted. I heard she was “called out” on the forums, but for what? Logical mystery novels are famous for high subscription-to-collection ratios. Is it her fault some people’s data is fake while her subscription rate is high? Rongrong: What “Mr. Numbers” said is ridiculous. Qianshan-Dada’s book is high quality; good data leads to good chart spots. Isn’t that just common sense?
These readers were quickly swarmed by the “Negative Rating Squad,” and soon the real fans were too intimidated to speak up.
Lin Muxue frowned. She didn’t care about the ratings—at most, they would lower her “novel points” and keep her off certain natural charts. However, her logical mysteries didn’t rely heavily on exposure anyway; as long as there was a link to draw people in, the quality would do the work of “closing the door and robbing their wallets.”
But the fact that they were attacking her readers made her uncomfortable. Since the editor was handling the cleanup, Lin Muxue decided she needed to make a stand herself.
She quickly posted a notice on her book’s landing page and the comment section.
Notice: Update tonight: Ten chapters will be released. Thank you to my real readers for standing up for me.
Pinned Comment: Author’s Reply: I support freedom of speech. If you have doubts or opinions, express them to me here. It’s too noisy elsewhere and I won’t look.
The readers and the smear squad were both stunned. Readers: Whoa, she’s so tough! I love it! Ten chapters? For real? Smear Squad: This is a provocation! Absolute provocation! Unforgivable!!!
With two simple sentences, she had stimulated the desire to buy—whether out of love or anger, a paying subscriber is a consumer. Simultaneously, she acted as a perfect “MT” (Main Tank), drawing all the enemy aggro to herself.
After posting, she checked her earnings. Her collection count had jumped from 9,000+ at midnight to over 20,000. Because of the smear campaign, many “silent” readers had begun tipping her out of sympathy. The tipping leaderboard had surged from a few hundred yuan to several thousand. The highest possible tip amount had even appeared dozens of times.
Unbeknownst to Lin Muxue, her book had appeared on the site-wide scrolling banner dozens of times because of these high tips, which explained the massive influx of traffic.
As for the income: before the chart, she was making 700–900 yuan a day. Today’s revenue had already surpassed 6,000 yuan, and with four hours left on the chart day, she expected to reach 8,000 by the 24-hour mark.
Calculating her half of the revenue she could withdraw at the start of next month, Lin Muxue breathed a sigh of relief.
Excellent. After paying the first month’s loan installments across various platforms, I’ll still have a bit of money left for food.
Even when her parents abandoned her at sixteen to live with her little uncle, she had rarely been this financially squeezed. She had worked hard at part-time jobs in high school, but that was for independence, not survival. She used to view money as just numbers in a bank account. Now, she found herself wishing her savings could have “transmigrated” with her.
She finally understood why people loved “get-rich-quick” literature. Lin Muxue: Poor, weak, and in debt. QAQ
She had to make money!
She adjusted the release times in her draft bank. She had planned to release five chapters tonight, but now she doubled it. Fortunately, she was a diligent writer; even when she was limiting her daily word count, she still wrote five to six chapters a day. Even after releasing ten, she still had over forty chapters in reserve.
However, the pressure was on. She didn’t plan for this ten-chapter burst to be a one-time thing. Didn’t the smear squad claim “no subscription, no right to speak” and pay for chapters just to find things to nitpick? If she didn’t fleece those sheep while she had the chance, her conscience would hurt.
After setting the updates, she logged off and went to join Zhou Jiajia and the others.
…
After an hour of streaming, Lin Muxue checked her ACgn (A-station) dashboard. Her private inbox was full of unread messages. Most were listeners who had found her through the first volume of the Climbing the Heavenly Ladder audio drama, expressing their support.
There were also several “wildcat” guilds reaching out with olive branches—likely mass-sent messages that wouldn’t lead anywhere. The “Rose and Sword” guild that had called her earlier seemed the most sincere by comparison.
Seeing no new commissions, she felt a bit of regret. She was about to shut down her computer when she received a message on her phone—not from her online friend “Sweet Meow,” but from someone she hadn’t talked to in a while: Choco A-chan.
Choco A-chan: Qianshan-Dada, are you there? Busy lately?
Lin Muxue understood the subtext immediately: a job offer?
She stood up to grab a book from the shelf while typing back: Not too busy. What’s up?
It was a job, though not a huge one. An animation student needed voice acting for their graduation project. Choco A-chan knew the student in real life and, being part of the online voice-acting circle, had been asked for help. After seeing the work, Choco A-chan had recommended Lin Muxue.
Choco A-chan: Since they’re a student, they aren’t exactly rich, so the pay might be a bit low. Would you mind?
Lin Muxue asked about the price. Hearing it was over 800 yuan, she immediately agreed. It was less than what Choco A-chan had paid her last time, and the workload was about ten times longer, but 800 yuan was basically a thousand if you rounded up.