Asked you to write a book, not to confess your crimina

Chapter 9: Chapter 9 Technical Flow Author

Spring breezes gently fluttered the pages of time.

In the blink of an eye, the night faded, and morning arrived.

The sky was clean and bright, sunlight streamed through the window into the room, soft and warm, silent and peaceful.

Outside the window, birds chirped softly, their calls melodic and lively.

Lin Chuan’s keyboard already produced a pleasant rhythm, the keycaps worn smooth from his touch.

Yes, Lin Chuan had already started writing.

Early in the morning, as soon as Youyou logged on, she helped Lin Chuan with the signing process.

Lin Chuan began to release chapters frantically.

After all, to publish those hundreds of chapters of a million-word novel, it would take a good while to operate.

Serial release?

Non-existent!

The book was complete upon signing!

Until noon, all chapters were published.

Ding, the system panel updated.

[Work: “Life of a Thief”]

[Status: Now on sale]

[Popularity Value (Average Subscription): 0/1000]

“One thousand average subscriptions, and I can start the next job experience.”

Lin Chuan muttered to himself.

Then, he @’ed all members in the reader’s group: Brothers, the new book is out, welcome to subscribe!

Those readers were always so active.

[Awesome! Heading for the new book now!]

[I just got out of detention. Isn’t the author writing about the Life of a Thief anymore?]

[How did you get into detention?]

[Last time I was itching to try out the author’s lock-picking skills for real, ended up picking the lock of the corrupt manager’s door but forgot about his surveillance system.]

[That’s real crime!]

[What new book is the author writing?]

[Life of a Swindler!]

[I’ll be the first reader!]

[I’ve been craving this!]

[I’m already at the card room, just waiting for the author’s technical support!]

This batch of loyal readers quickly found his new novel through Lin Chuan’s author page on Sailing Novel.

“Life of a Swindler”

At a glance, they were startled and all came back to the group, mentioning Lin Chuan.

[Author, you call this a new book? Is there such a thing as a million-word new book?]

[Even a commune’s donkey wouldn’t dare to be this intense, right? This is terrifying!]

[Goodness, what am I seeing?]

[Author, take it easy.]

[With the way you’re going, have you considered whether your fellow writers can take it?]

…

Happiness Community.

In a somewhat luxurious living room, a middle-aged man slumped on the sofa, idly staring at the fish tank in front of him, his eyes lifeless.

He was slightly overweight with strands of gray in his hair.

This middle-aged man was Lin Chuan’s landlord, Old Zhang.

He had been taken away for engaging in illegal gambling the day before and had spent the night in the police station’s detention cell. Early this morning, he had paid his bail and finally returned home.

“I told you not to gamble, but look at you, you lost tens of thousands last night and even ended up in the police station.”

Zhang Xinxin sat across from Old Zhang, glowering at her father.

Old Zhang’s skin was somewhat saggy, and he seemed to have aged several years overnight, losing his vigor.

“It’s my only hobby.”

Facing his daughter’s reproach, Old Zhang retorted with a pout.

Zhang Xinxin continued, “You call that a hobby? It’s gambling. Should you even touch that?”

Old Zhang spread his hands and turned his head away, “If I don’t play cards with friends, what can I do? Collect rent all day, isn’t that nauseating?”

Zhang Xinxin’s face was stern.

She seriously scolded her father.

“There are plenty of hobbies you could take up. Go bird-watching, stream some videos, read some novels, all of those are great, aren’t they?”

“Why do you have to gamble when there are so many other fun things to do?”

“Didn’t Lin Chuan still find joy in it despite his books flopping for so long?”

Old Zhang, faced with his precious daughter and knowing he was in the wrong, quickly waved his hands, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop gambling. Staying home and watching videos or reading novels should be fine, right?”

Only then did Zhang Xinxin stop her lecture, “Fine, I’m off to the shop.”

Old Zhang watched her go downstairs and grimaced.

Being a landlord is truly boring.

Well, time to read a novel.

He took out his phone, opened the app store, and downloaded a novel app.

“Sailing Novel, quite a few downloads, this one it is.”

But his heart wasn’t in the novels; it was on the gambling table where he lost money the night before last.

Thinking back to that night.

The reason he had lost so miserably was not just because he got carried away, but also because the other party was too lucky.

He even suspected that the other party was cheating, but he couldn’t find any evidence.

Someone insisted that the man was a swindler, and under the guise of going to the toilet, secretly dialed the police number.

Then, the whole setup was busted.

At that moment, the Sailing Novel app’s big data accurately recommended a few books to Old Zhang.

“Endless Gambling Sea”

“Swindler”

“Lost everything and still gambling?”

Old Zhang glanced at them, his eyes locking on the second one.

Swindler!

His interest was piqued in an instant!

“If I knew some cheating techniques, wouldn’t I sweep the floor at the card table?”

Old Zhang began to daydream.

Of course, he wasn’t expecting to learn actual cheating techniques from a novel, but he thought that perhaps the novel could satisfy some of his unrealistic fantasies.

He clicked on “Swindler” and glanced at the author’s pen name: Mr. Lin, but he didn’t linger, going straight to the text.

“‘I am a swindler… Not gambling is the ultimate victory.’”

“One could tell this kid Mr. Lin has never been to a gambling table. There are many winners in casinos, earning millions and millions, faster than collecting rent.”

Old Zhang criticized.

His mind, impervious to advice, automatically ignored this piece of counsel.

Gamblers don’t take advice.

He casually flipped through a few pages and glanced quickly, frowning, “Seems like it’s not badly written.”

“Hmm? It even has dice listening techniques?”

Old Zhang, slouched on the sofa, straightened up a bit.

His attention fell on a few paragraphs:

“‘I watched intently, listening to the crisp sounds from the dice cup.’

“‘As the master shook the dice cup, he said: Dice have six sides, each with a different number of indentations.’

“‘If you’ve studied physics, you know that for dice made of the same material, the force determines the volume of the sound, and the different indentations result in different collision sounds.’

“‘Listen carefully!’

“‘Thud! The dice hit the ground!’

“‘…’

Old Zhang’s brow half furrowed, mumbling to himself, “When I was the physics course representative back in the day, the physics guy mentioned the principles of sound propagation, seems like there’s some truth to it.”

Years of rent-collecting made him forget most of what he learned in school.

But now, it seemed like some memories had come back.

With a thirst for learning, Old Zhang continued reading.

In the book, the sound of each dice face hitting the ground was clearly described.

Now, Old Zhang couldn’t sit still!

“Could this really be the case?”

He was quite puzzled.

He immediately took out some dice from a drawer, placed them in a dice cup, and decided to conduct an experiment.

Old Zhang sat up straight, shaking the dice cup in the air with his right hand, his gaze intense with a gambler’s focus.

He had good hearing, clearly catching the sound of the dice landing inside the cup.

Thud!

The dice cup landed on the coffee table.

Old Zhang’s eyes gleamed, “I’ve got to see for myself if what you say is true!”