Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

  “Woof woof!”


  Xiao La’s bark could barely be heard.

  The Amazing Fate Pet Shop had considered the soundproofing issue during its past renovation. Both the walls and the doors were thick. Even if Xiao La barked its lungs out in the storage room, it wouldn’t bother the other pets.

  Zhang Zian put Xie Tao’s rice cake in the fridge, and wondered how he should cook it. Should he boil, fry, or stir-fry? The problem was, he could not do any of that.

  After coming out of the kitchen, he looked casually in the living room. He was expecting to see Pi typing in front of the computer, but the chair was empty.

  That was rare. Did Pi get up to stretch without being reminded to do so?

  Zhang Zian was happy that Pi finally learned to take care of its body. As he turned around to go downstairs, he suddenly heard keyboard tapping coming from the desk.

  What was going on?

  He stopped. Pi wasn’t sitting in front of the computer, so where did the typing sound come from? Was there a ghost fond of typing?

  “Pi? Are you there?” He asked, and stuck his head inside the door.

  “Eek?” Pi was sitting straight in the chair, and looked around at him in confusion.

  Zhang Zian frowned. He felt that something was wrong. He didn’t see this before.

  He didn’t open up the curtain this morning when he woke up. The lighting in the living room was a bit dim, but even so, he should’ve seen it, shouldn’t he?

  He walked into the living room and opened the curtains, to let light into the room.

  Pi followed him with its eyes, its confusion not diminished.

  “Pi, have you been sitting here, typing all this time?” Zhang Zian asked, trying to maintain a gentle smile.

  “Eek!” Pi nodded.

  “You never left the chair?” He asked again.

  “Eek.” Pi shook its head.

  That was weird. Did he really not see it?

  Zhang Zian’s doubt grew. Everything else in the room was clearly visible, except Pi.

  “Eek?” Pi blinked its eyes, asking him what happened.

  “Nothing. Something’s wrong with my eyes,” he answered halfheartedly. To avoid Pi asking more questions, he switched topics. “Pi, how’s your novel going? Are you getting more favorites after signing the contract?”


  Pi didn’t answer him. It looked down at the keyboard with a sad face, and drew circles on the desk with its fingers.

  The answer was obvious from its body language. Zhang Zian sighed.

  Pi had already published over 40 chapters, nearly 90,000 words, but there were only 50 favorites.

  He returned to Qidian’s home page, and clicked on a random novel. Most chapters had an average of 30,000 favorites. Even the worst one had 10,000 favorites. The signed novels had hundreds of favorites. Qidian readers were numerous. Why nobody was reading this one? Was the topic unpopular?

  Tap tap!

  Pi’s fingers moved over the keyboard. It was a fast typer, but it seemed to have weights attached to its fingers because they struggled to move.

  After a while, it slowly typed, “Writing novels may not suit me.”


  After seeing these words, Zhang Zian’s heart filled with sadness. He knew better than anyone how much effort Pi was investing, yet there were no results. It reminded him of when he first took over the pet shop. He sat in the shop alone everyday, looking at the the pedestrians walking past. His old colleagues were posting about their great lives in Wechat Moments, which made him question his choice. Was it a mistake to inherit the pet shop? Am I in the wrong business? Why am I wasting my youth and my day, sitting here alone?

  Now, Pi was facing the same difficult situation.

  “Would you like to talk to the editor?” He was trying to help.

  Pi logged into QQ and clicked on the bald monk avatar to show him its chat history with the chief editor.

  The most recent message was from yesterday, which meant that Pi had been down for at least a day. Zhang Zian secretly blamed himself for not noticing it earlier.

  Pi asked: “If nobody is reading my novel, should I continue writing?”


  The chief editor’s answer was simple: “Keep writing.”


  Zhang Zian browsed the online novel discussions in Wang Haige Forum, and realized that some novels were barely known in the beginning. They only became popular because the authors kept writing until they were promoted by the website. Those instances were rare, but everybody loved discussing them.

  Then, he encouraged Pi, “I don’t think you should quit so easily. Even if you want to quit, at least wait until it gets promoted by the website. It’s written in the contract that the novel gets at least one promotion, and further promotions will depend on performance.”


  Pi grew silent and typed: “I’m tired. I don’t want to write any more.” It pushed the keyboard away, took off the Pince-nez, and looked out of the window.

  Pi’s maturity often made Zhang Zian forget about the fact that it was still a young monkey. While most monkeys its age were playing without worry, it was sitting alone in front of the computer, trying to write.

  Its body wasn’t tired, its heart was.

  Zhang Zian’s heart was heavy and troubled.

  Stop writing then. Delete the Word file and turn off the computer. I’ll get Galaxy and Famous and we’ll play hide and seek. He was about to utter these words, but he didn’t.

  It was easy to quit, it was harder to keep going.

  Studying is too hard, I quit. Losing weight is too tiring, I quit. Work is too much, I quit. Office politics is too dark, I quit. Business is too humiliating and I have to pretend to be nice all the time, I quit. Life is too hard, I quit.

  If we quit each time we have a setback, we’d be left with nothing.

  Zhang Zian took a few deep breaths, and exhaled the frustration out his chest. He reached for the keyboard and typed: “Only a few people in the world achieve their dreams. Our life is simple. We’re not ambitious. If we have any pride, it’s when we harvest with our hands.”


  “Pi, do you know where these words are from?”


  Pi glanced at the screen and put the Pince-nez back on. It looked into the nameless book and typed: “The Moon and Sixpence.”


  “Right.” Zhang Zian forced himself to smile. “Pi, have you read this novel?”


  Pi shook its head.

  “The novel is about an ordinary man. He had a beautiful wife and healthy children, and lived a seemingly happy life. One day, he became so obsessed with art that he abandoned his family, and headed to a desolate island to paint. If this were a popular story, he’d have became famous, earned lots of money, and married a beautiful woman. Sadly, he was known as a ‘genius,’ but died in the most tragic way.”


  Zhang Zian retold the plot of The Moon and Sixpence. However, he had read it a long time ago, so he had a fuzzy memory. He remembered the famous quote, though, and often encouraged himself with it.

  Whether it was at school or at work, he was an average guy, neither better nor worse than others. He envied top students and successful people because he knew that he’d never become them. Since geniuses were rare, and only a few people achieved their dreams, others were destined to live ordinary lives. He was just a normal guy with no talent. He didn’t need to be ashamed, he just had to accept it.

  When he read the novel, he couldn’t understand the hero’s choice to abandon his perfect family for art. It wasn’t until after meeting Lu Yiyun and Pi, that he started to understand why. Lu Yiyun would paint even if it meant renouncing her family, and Pi would rather write than have fun, because they liked it. Others didn’t understand why they’d let something they liked consume their life. But that made them happy.

  The world should be big enough to accommodate all the different values.

  An ordinary guy like him could accept being ordinary, but should also understand that there were some people, like Lu Yiyun, Pi, and the hero in The Moon and Sixpence, that couldn’t. They jumped out of a high tower with the aspiration to reach the moon. They either flew, or fell to the ground.

  To sum up the hero in The Moon and Sixpence with the fewest words, “My life has an end, but paintings don’t.”


  Pi listened carefully, as if drawn into the story, the fate of the hero resonating with it.

  Zhang Zian spoke slowly, “Did the hero in the story regret what he did? I think the sentence mentioned before was the hero’s epiphany. I don’t want to lie and tell you that your novel will surely succeed. Your novel might fail, as most novels will fail. But Pi, think about this. Why are you writing this novel? Are you doing this for money and fame? What was your intention?”


  Pi’s mouth half opened. It thought quietly, then typed: “I like this story, and would like others to see this story.”


  Zhang Zian nodded in affirmation. “That’s right. Pi, you’ve already done it!”


  “Eek?” Pi blinked in confusion, and pointed at the 50 on the screen that meant only 50 people saw it.

  “No, you shouldn’t think this way. You should think that there are 50 people that you’ve already told this story to. Those 50 people, aren’t they the ‘others’ you mentioned?” Zhang Zian smiled. “That’s a huge success. Keep going. Your story will be liked by more people.”


  Pi gazed at the 50 on the screen, as if this number had some kind of magic.

  Zhang Zian took out his phone, opened up the Qidian app, searched for Pi’s novel, and added it to his library. The number of favorites went up to 51.

  “Pi, I’m your reader too,” he spoke seriously, “I want to see the end of the story because the hero in the novel is kind of like me. He’s not as handsome as me, but I’d like to see what happens to him. Pi, look into my eyes, I like your novel.”


  Pi’s eyes moved from the screen to Zhang Zian’s face. It saw sincerity in his eyes.

  Richard, who was doing nothing earlier, and suddenly flapped its wings into the living room. “Quack! I like your novel, too. But Pi, you’re such a slow writer, and each chapter is so short. I’ve been waiting so long and I still haven’t appeared! If I knew how to type, I’d teach you the meaning of being big and long!”


  “Meow! Galaxy likes your novel, too!” Galaxy followed Richard, along with the other elfins.

  “I heard you want to quit writing? You’re quitting just when I appeared? Why? Are you mad at me? If you want to challenge me, just do it!” Fina spoke with pride.

  Pi was scared of Fina.

  Did Richard hear them talking and tell everybody? The big-mouth parrot had always been a troublemaker, but this time, it actually helped.

  “Hehe, Pi, Zian’s right. You only get a happy ending if you remember your intentions. Besides, I’m curious to find out how I’ll appear. I’ve been thinking so much about this lately that I can’t even focus on TV.” Old Time Tea smiled.

  “Meow, if I don’t see a happy ending between me and My Majesty, I’ll castrate Zhang Zian!” Snowy Lionet licked its paws, its claws were fiercely shining.

  Zhang Zian wanted to ask why he’d be castrated if it was Pi’s story?

  “Pi, you have to use my real name!” Famous reminded it, “I don’t want to make another debut under someone else’s name.”


  Pi’s eyes glistened, glancing over everyone.

  Zhang Zian put the keyboard in front of it. “Pi, do you know why the novel’s title was The Moon and Sixpence? Someone joked with the author, that when people look up at the moon, they often forget about the sixpence under their feet. These 57 readers are the sixpence under your feet. We’re a little group, but we’re there. When you’re sad that the moon is too far, don’t ignore us because you think we’re trivial. You’ll always have us. Would you hang in there a bit longer, for the sake of your 57 readers?”


  With everyone looking at it, Pi hesitated briefly, then nodded.