Given the traffic on BoboBao, the site Chen Mo’s on, his bestseller rank floats around 17–20. It keeps drifting there, near the tail end.

He pulls in about thirty thousand a month in manuscript fees. If he lands one or two big features, that’s another ten to twenty thousand.

But “all-channel” is on another level. That’s a full-platform push across BoboBao and its partner channels. His last finished comic never got that treatment.

Only the top dogs at rank one or two ever touch it. It’s BoboBao’s strongest rec, period.

Get that, and you might even get animated. Then the licensing fees will flood in.

Right now, Chen Mo lives on subs, monthly tickets, and tips. His spot on the bestseller list is 100% earned.

Hearing the excitement in his sister Chen Ying’s texts, he typed, “No way I’m drawing in a hospital. What are you even thinking?!”

Dumb Sis: “I’m going to supervise you. You’re doing two updates a week with a stockpile for a future mass drop? Make it three a week.”

Chen Mo: “???”

Dumb Sis: “No way, no way—my dear big bro-chan isn’t saying he can’t, right? What about your girlfriend’s happiness then? Oh, sorry, I forgot. You still don’t have a girlfriend.”

Chen Mo’s mouth twitched. At that blatant taunt he couldn’t help replying, “So you want me dead?”

Dumb Sis: “I’ll inherit your estate. Go in peace.”

Where are those cute, doting little sisters from anime?

Why is mine nothing like that?!

He set his phone down and ignored her. He opened his comic, skimmed the comments and all the roasting. His soul felt rinsed clean.

This—being praised, being seen, hitting resonance with readers—that’s the best encouragement and validation a creator can get.

Nice. I’m content. No regrets tonight.

Before putting pen to paper, he decided to run through the upcoming plot. The editor was right. He couldn’t keep following the outline. He needed to redefine it.

He opened QQ, planning to idle in the group for a bit. After searching a while, he couldn’t find the old group he used to haunt.

A few taps later, he realized the name had changed.

Now it was “Pigeon Studio,” with a chibi Emilia-tan as the avatar.

He entered and saw the two-hundred-plus members had shrunk to about forty.

Passerby: “Why are there so few people now? And why’d the group name and avatar change?”

Pigeon King Qingqing: “Holy crap! Back from the dead!”

White-Haired Loli Is the Best: “Holy crap! What am I seeing??”

Ximen Ximen: “Master, long time no see!”

ChuiChui: “It’s Mo bro. I simp!”

ChuiChui: “prprprprpr~”

Chen Mo scratched his cheek. The group had been dead quiet, and the second he showed up, everyone popped out.

He had decent clout in there. Not just for hitting bestsellers on merit, but because he was the group’s top hand at lewd art.

His lewds were genuinely enticing. Nothing explicit, no big-three on display, the linework clean and fresh. Yet somehow the vibe was very, very lewd. The group loved it.

Ximen Ximen: “Master, where’d you go for the past half month? You vanished.”

Passerby: “Family stuff. No time to idle here. Updates lately were all from the buffer. Had to solve it before I could crawl out.”

Pigeon King Qingqing: “So where are the lewds?”

Passerby: “Scram, scram, scram. If you want lewds, draw your own. Aren’t you all comic artists?”

ChuiChui: “If I had half of Mo bro’s skill, would I be begging for lewds?”

White-Haired Loli Is the Best: “If I had half of Mo bro’s skill, would I be begging for lewds?”

Ximen Ximen: “If I had half...”

Same old crew. Chen Mo couldn’t help but sigh, smiling at the chat.

Pigeon King Qingqing: “Guys, I’m stuck on plot. Any shows or manga where the MC just watches other people fall in love? Gonna study up.”

ChuiChui: “You.”

Pigeon King Qingqing: “What do you mean?”

ChuiChui: “You’re literally the MC who watches other people’s romance. In shows, manga, and games.”

Pigeon King Qingqing: “...”

Passerby: “Art imitates life. I’m enlightened.”

Chen Mo pressed his lips and let a small smile slip. Sometimes stress relief is that simple. These goofballs never disappoint.

After a bit more chatting, he focused on his comic. With some digging, he got why people didn’t like his new heroine.

She wasn’t drawn deep enough. The design didn’t pop. As for a fix—he didn’t have one yet.

By past eleven, he got sleepy and didn’t overthink it. He went straight to bed.

The next day, he neither simulated Little Ash’s life nor Luo Xianxue’s. He let himself relax. Read for half the day. Drew for the other half. Caught up on new anime. Played some games.

His thought was simple. Simulated lives are still simulations. They can’t replace the one he’s living.

Treat it like a game and relax in moderation.

Everything slid back on track.

That night, Chen Ying told him she’d gotten approval to be a day student. No more evening self-study. As long as her grades didn’t drop, she was fine. That evening she came over with Wei Shitong to look around.

The next afternoon, Chen Mo simulated Luo Xianxue’s life.

First thing he saw was a phone screen. A browser. The search bar read—Is it normal or not for guys to get off to an ice cream bar?

Below was Baidu’s answer—Hello, it’s normal. Any guy who doesn’t like the “white thigh-highs popsicle” is the abnormal one.

Chen Mo froze. Possessed Luo Xianxue froze too.

Then a shame-strangled scream burst in his head. “Ah! Pha—Phantom Sir?!”

“Don’t look!” she yelped again, but she didn’t take back control of the body.

Chen Mo paused, glanced around, and saw it was Luo Xianxue’s room. No one else. He said, “I already saw it.”

“I—I—I was just curious.” Luo Xianxue’s voice was timid, growing weaker. “I’m not that kind of girl. I was just... curious.”

Chen Mo: “I’m more curious where you learned this garbage while I was gone.”

“I—I—I...” Luo Xianxue sounded close to tears. “I saw it in some groups, so I wondered. Phantom Sir, you’re a guy, right? Do you also... to ice cream?”

Which group is this degenerate? How can anyone do that to ice cream!

Also, you’re a girl. Is being curious about this really okay?

Chen Mo said flatly, “Of course I wouldn’t.”

Luo Xianxue: “Then you’re the abnormal one!”