Momo's Gradual Change - VOL. 1

C96. A Bunch of Eccentrics.

Chapter 96: A Bunch of Eccentrics

Flipping through from top to bottom, Song Yimo couldn’t find any clear explanation. She logged onto her messaging app, unsurprised to see a familiar icon bouncing furiously.

Zhang Chuliang: “Are you there?”

Zhang Chuliang: “Barely Rich, if you’re here, hit me up.”

With a small stretch of her fingers, her “Invisible Finger Technique,” honed in a past life, sprang into action.

Barely Rich: “Brother Liang, I’m here.”

Zhang Chuliang: “Is there something special about today?”

Sometimes, Song Yimo couldn’t help but suspect that her editor spent sixteen hours a day online. She never struggled to reach him, and he almost always replied instantly.

Barely Rich: “What do you mean?”

Zhang Chuliang: “I know your loyal fans well. Quite a few of them are notorious names among us editors. It’s normal for them to cause a ruckus, but when they stop, that’s when something’s really strange.”

Song Yimo frowned and scrolled up and down the webpage, checking the donations. Some familiar IDs showed up, but most were new. She knew she’d recently been promoted on a new recommendation list, which had attracted new readers, so it wasn’t surprising that donations had gone up. But something in her editor’s tone suggested otherwise.

Pondering this, Song Yimo opened her dashboard to check today’s income from the donations. After staring at the number for a while, she simply closed it. Money was coming in faster and faster, and with this sudden surge in donations, it felt strangely like she was accepting gifts unearned. It made her uneasy, as if she were somehow taking advantage.

Barely Rich: “Brother Liang, this feels unsettling.”

Zhang Chuliang: “A lot of those IDs are new, but the people behind them? Mostly the same old faces.”

Zhai Muyang entered the room, laptop in hand, to see Yimo frowning at her computer screen. He didn’t need to ask to know what was going on. Last time she had posted a notice to stop them from donating. He wondered with a smirk of mischief—what would she do this time?

The editor, Zhang Chuliang, pushed up his glasses and lit a cigarette, holding it between his teeth as he added a final line.

Zhang Chuliang: “I checked their IP addresses.”

Barely Rich: “Are you saying they registered a bunch of new IDs just to donate to me without me knowing?”

Zhang Chuliang: “Seems that way.”

For a while, the chat window stayed still.

Zhang Chuliang got up, fetched a beer from the fridge, cracked open a window to air out the smoke, then returned to his computer. After a few sips of beer, he saw her message pop back up.

Barely Rich: “Brother Liang, what’s in it for them? I don’t discourage donations because I’m too noble to care about money. If I were that virtuous, I’d just let everyone read for free. I just want peace of mind. Do they actually… like this kind of treatment?”

Zhang Chuliang couldn’t help laughing. He set down his beer and put out his cigarette to avoid choking.

Zhang Chuliang: “You might be onto something. Some authors plead and beg for donations and get ignored. But you? You’ve only posted two messages since you started—one to stop votes, and one to stop donations. It’s like they find it amusing to go against you.”