Xia Chuan Yuan headed to the table by the bookshelf in the corner. It was perfect for jotting down ideas and sketching.

Now, he planned to enter the literary world. After all, he’d joined the Culture Club. After much deliberation, he decided to start by becoming famous through novels.

Pulling out a chair, Xia Chuan Yuan grabbed a blank notebook from the shelf. He’d adapt famous light novels from his past life, then revise them with his own insights to create something new.

Why light novels? In this world, anime was wildly popular—more than traditional novels. Light novels also included illustrations, and he knew how to draw well. Starting here made sense. Manga could wait.

"Xia Chuan Yuan, what’s this?" Chenghai Meixi called out. "Suddenly grabbing a notebook—what are you up to?"

"Nothing much," he replied. "Just doodling to kill time."

"Doodling? You’re not planning to draw doujinshi, are you?" She grinned. "I never took you for that type, Classmate!"

"Classmate Chenghai," he sighed. "How about I tell you a few jokes? Then you leave me alone."

"Deal. But if they’re not funny, no deal."

Xia Chuan Yuan doubted jokes from his past life couldn’t win over little Chenghai Meixi.

"Alright, here’s one. My uncle needed a hospital check-up. The doctor asked for a morning urine sample. So he peed into a mineral water bottle. While waiting for the bus, he pulled out his lighter to smoke. A woman shouted, ‘What’s that gasoline for?’"

"How’d he respond?"

"He explained it wasn’t gasoline."

"She didn’t believe him!"

"Exactly. She said, ‘Prove it—take a sip.’"

"Not funny at all!"

A trace of a smile flickered on Chenghai Meixi’s lips. This fire needed more fuel.

"How about a question instead?" he offered.

"Sure!"

"Listen carefully. Meixi and Meilai are sisters. Meilai gave Meixi five boxes of Tylenol, three of Medimycin, four of SMZ-Co, one of Norfloxacin, six of Acetylspiramycin, eight of Berberine, and two of Clotrimazole. What’s the conclusion?"

"Hmm... why Meixi? And nineteen boxes total?"

"Meixi’s just a code name. Ignore that. Anything else?"

Chenghai Meixi shook her head, clueless.

"Simple: Meixi is sick. Now, go check your computer."

Xia Chuan Yuan gently nudged her away.

"Wait—you’re insulting me!" she protested. "Using this as an excuse?"

"Your imagination. Meixi’s just a name—not only you. There’s Front Sea Meixi, Back Sea Meixi, Work Meixi... Don’t flatter yourself. It’s a code name. Go on, check your computer. I need to write."

He ignored her after that. He feared bursting into laughter—she’d fallen for it so easily! Before she could retaliate, he focused on his notebook to distract himself.

Focus, focus! Hoo hoo!

He scribbled in the notebook, writing and pausing. After listing a few popular titles from his past world, his pen stopped. Then, he wrote: "Accelerating Forbidden Magic."

This title blended hot elements from several hits, refined with his own ideas. Having read these books, he had an edge over the originals: he wouldn’t derail the story. Long novels often collapsed when authors forgot their own plot threads. Grand setups caused headaches later. Copying everything verbatim was risky too—fans noticed style shifts between books. So, he’d describe this fused world in his own words. The old Xia Chuan Yuan would’ve copied outright. But now, with perfect memory and a lightning-fast mind, creation felt trivial. He could write original work, but feared his first book might fail. Borrowing elements from past hits was safer.