Chapter 182 - 11: Visitor_2
"Yes," Morca frowned and thought for a moment, then said, "except for the cardinal, you are the only living ’Lich Knight’ reader I’ve ever met. And you’re a pirated reader. I wonder, where did those books go... Why is there not a single reader? Didn’t the cardinal say he would print a million copies? And he didn’t. Also, who was the guy in the black robe who bought the book?"
Morca remained silent, and so did Pao Pao. The yard was quiet.
After a while, Morca let out a long sigh and said, "Maybe I’ll never understand this in my lifetime. Forget it, as long as the gold coins are real, that’s all that matters. Our life is good enough now."
"Don’t you want to write novels anymore?" Pao Pao asked.
"Why would I?"
"Don’t you want to become the greatest novelist? That was your dream." Pao Pao imitated the way Morca spoke back then, "To write wonderful stories, take root in people’s hearts, sprout, and create a fantastic world. That feeling is like being a heavenly god."
"No, my dream is to live idly," Morca corrected, "To be honest, even the greatest novelist doesn’t have as much money as I do now. Writers are all poor bastards; who in their right mind writes novels? Most novelists have a miserable life. They have no stable income, their wives may leave them, their children may resent them for not having time to spend together, they might be accused of being irresponsible for persisting in writing novels, and they could end up being sent to a mental hospital, penniless and homeless, turning into beggars. At best, a great novelist is just the chief beggar."
"Holy Knight Gray has many more stories now. Don’t you think you should continue that story?"
"No, I have no intention of doing that. I am now completely convinced that no one likes to read that book. Why should I write a book that doesn’t sell?"
"But you said it was the best book you’ve ever written."
"That was just a momentary illusion of mine."