Chapter 3: I Suddenly Became an Unregistered Citizen One Day
After Xisha left, Song Wenlan quickly set the light-brain to senior mode.
After all, even for someone from modern times, the light-brain’s senior mode was still a bit too advanced.
Song Wenlan swiped twice on the transparent screen, found the search app, and began researching the market.
There were hundreds of fonts on the screen, but one of them was very familiar—Chinese.
The sight of those familiar characters felt like a warm current flowing through her, easing her tension.
She didn’t know if Blue Star in this interstellar era was the same as Earth, but whether it was or not, the familiar script gave her a sense of belonging.
Once she earned enough money, she was determined to visit Blue Star.
Pulling her wandering thoughts back, Song Wenlan focused again.
There wasn’t much information online about web novels in the interstellar era—only a handful of entries appeared on the search site.
Soon, Song Wenlan found the most famous novel platform in the interstellar network—Starlight Interstellar Fiction Net.
The quickest way to understand a novel site was to check its rankings.
Very soon, Song Wenlan found herself dazedly backing out of the rankings list.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, three giant question marks practically floating above her head.
If it weren’t for the glaring words “novel site” on the page, Song Wenlan would have thought she’d wandered into an academic forum.
Take the top three novels on the homepage for example: Planet Traversal Diary, Guide to Species in Spatial Domains, and Histories of Past Years.
Song Wenlan clicked into them with the mindset of a student, but after just two chapters she felt her head stuffed with knowledge and withdrew, dizzy and overwhelmed.
Planet Traversal Diary was supposedly about the author’s travels across planets, but most of its content was things like: the history of planetary traversal, the causes behind certain planetary phenomena, all referenced and documented with a rigor even stricter than academic papers from her previous life.
Guide to Species in Spatial Domains was a full-fledged popular science book, with a level of detail comparable to the Compendium of Materia Medica.
But it wasn’t useless—the author had written it with a lively touch. At the very least, Song Wenlan now understood that the current interstellar world was divided in a tripartite balance.
The Federation, the Empire, and Blue Star held the three corners. However, compared to the Federation and the Empire, Blue Star lagged far behind—whether in resources, technology, or territory, it simply couldn’t measure up.
The only reason it was placed on the same level as the Federation and Empire was because it had its own complete territory and independent culture.
Between the Federation, the Empire, and Blue Star lay the Baimiao Star System, a realm composed of countless floating islands in the sky, inhabited by every imaginable intelligent species—if you could think of it, it existed there.
Histories of Past Years was, as the title suggested, a history book. The author used a lighthearted tone to thoroughly describe the development of each race up to the present. It was the first book Song Wenlan had come across that actually resembled a web novel.
In this book, she even saw mention of Blue Star. It said that Blue Star had been settled by immigrants from another planet, though it never specified which one.
She quickly added all three books to her favorites. She couldn’t deny that they were extremely useful for learning about the interstellar world—but honestly, none of them could really be called web novels!
The other books she looked through weren’t much different, some even filled with more citations than original content.
After another half an hour of reading, she hadn’t found a single book she could exit from easily.
Could it be that interstellar “novels” weren’t the same as what she understood?
Written as fiction, but actually academic papers? [・_・?]
Did interstellar readers really chew on such dry stuff all the time?
Song Wenlan opened the readers’ forum, hoping to find some answers.
There weren’t many active users in the forum, so the first rant thread—already piled high with replies—immediately caught her eye.
[I work such long hours every day, and when I come back I just want to read something relaxing—why is it so hard to find?!]
[I work ten hours a day. When I come back, all I want is something light to read. But every time I log onto Starlight, it’s always the same books. To be honest, I’ve already started fighting with my five-year-old for picture books.]
[Same here. It’s the same knowledge points over and over again—I can practically recite them by now.]
[I’ve gotten so good at filtering out those knowledge points, I can finish a whole book in ten minutes at most.]
[I heard that some of Blue Star’s old novels could even help certain people kick addictions… (quietly)]
[How could that be? That’s just a legend. Look at the stuff written by those Blue Star people—it’s the same as everything else! Just a gimmick!]
…
Song Wenlan understood now: interstellar readers did have a demand for light and easy web novels. Not just demand—they were downright starving for them.
She let out a breath of relief, and joy began to rise in her chest.
Demand was good! Demand meant there was a market!
And with a market came money!
Just as Song Wenlan rolled up her sleeves, ready to get to work, some comments further down caught her attention.
[That book that got taken down a few years ago—has everyone read it?]
[You mean My Robot Boyfriend? Yes, I read it! That book was amazing! The robot fell in love with its master, and the master personally built a heart for it and placed it in its chest—waaah, that killed me, it was so sweet. Too bad it got taken down later.]
[Starlight claimed it was “vulgar,” but come on, who doesn’t know the truth? They just look down on non-human species. They insist on spinning conspiracy theories—that if non-humans write novels, it’s only to make us degenerate.]
[Not gonna lie, I’ve already snuck over the wall. The stuff non-human species have to read next door is so much better!]
Reading these comments, Song Wenlan froze mid-motion, her brows knitting together. No… it seemed that Starlight’s officials really did disdain “lowbrow” works. If she tried publishing here, there was a very high chance she wouldn’t even get a contract.
Song Wenlan’s gaze slowly fell on the words “the non-human site next door.”
Before long, she found it—the Insect Literature Novel Website.
This platform had been founded by a species known as Net Insects.
They lived through the network and especially loved beautiful stories—those tales were their spiritual food, essential for survival.
Compared to Starlight, the Insect Literature Novel Website had a much more open atmosphere. They welcomed all races to create every kind of story.
Song Wenlan skimmed through the rankings, and this time her heart finally settled.
Most of the works there were either youthful or mature love stories. Because of the uniqueness of each species, the stories varied greatly in form, but at their core, the narratives were simple: meeting, knowing each other, understanding one another, staying together.
The interstellar era’s fiction industry was still in its infancy. By contrast, modern novels back on Earth had already become highly developed.
So many genres, so many schools, so many fresh settings… For both readers and authors, they had already turned into patterns and tropes.
Song Wenlan could easily imagine how shocked these interstellar readers would be when those kinds of novels appeared.
Unable to wait any longer, she clicked Register.
But the very next moment, a bucket of cold water was dumped on her burning excitement.
She could almost hear the hiss of water meeting fire.
A notification popped up on the light screen:
[Dear creator, hello! You are currently using a guest account. Please register an account before publishing your work.]
Only then did Song Wenlan remember—she was still an unregistered citizen. She couldn’t even sign up for a website account.
