Chapter 86: The First

Language has always been the most stirring thing in the world.

Reading through the flood of reviews, a fire began to burn in Chen Feng’s heart—a flame of defiance. Why? Why should money dictate everything? Shouldn’t the so-called monthly ticket rankings be decided by what everyone likes?

In real life, Chen Feng had little money and no power to decide or change anything; he could only drift with the current. But staring at these reviews, Chen Feng suddenly felt that maybe, just maybe, he could change something, even if it was only a little.

He cast his monthly ticket for this book. He hadn’t read a single chapter, but that didn’t stop him from voting.

Chen Feng was not alone. Many others, drawn by reputation, came and cast their votes as well. It wasn’t that they all loved the book—many hadn’t read even a chapter.

Yet they all voted.

Those five consecutive golden alliances seemed to ignite a spirit of rebellion among the crowd.

The monthly ticket rankings should be based on the number of people who agree, with higher rankings for those with more supporters. What meaning is there in simply buying your way to first place?

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Time and again, they watched as their favorite books were pushed down by money, and anger gradually built up within them.

That anger, accumulated over time, finally erupted at this moment.

Jiang Zheng’s book was merely a catalyst, setting off the collective outrage.

As time went on, more and more people cast their votes.

…

Jiang Zheng scrolled through the comments in the review section, his heart a swirl of emotions.

He hadn’t intended to compete for first place in the monthly ticket rankings—he knew in his heart he couldn’t win.

His book had only been published for less than two months, and although it was popular, his core supporters were not especially numerous.

Look at the established authors—their loyal fans stood by them in great numbers. But those numbers had been built up, book by book, over time.

How long had Jiang Zheng been writing? How could he have so many loyal fans already?

So he understood. Competing for first place in the monthly ticket rankings was a losing battle.

Besides, striving for first place is very different from aiming for a decent ranking. The cost and ruthlessness of chasing first far exceed that of any other position.

Yet he hadn’t expected so many people to support him.

They were all people who refused to accept things as they were.

Jiang Zheng took a deep breath. There wasn’t much he could do now, except to write more! And more!

As long as he didn’t drop dead from exhaustion, he would keep writing for dear life!

These two days, he would give it his all!

With that thought, Jiang Zheng quietly encouraged himself, rubbed his face, and continued typing.

…

The last day of the double monthly ticket period was also the last day of the month.

First place in the monthly ticket rankings would be decided today.

“Keep spending! We can’t lose first place!”

So much had already been invested; to lose first place now would be a huge waste.

After all, it wasn’t every month they could shell out this much money to buy the top spot.

On Jiang Zheng’s side:

“We can’t let the readers down—more updates! I’ll keep adding more chapters!”

Another wave of two golden alliances came through, and Jiang Zheng’s readers rallied, calling upon one another to vote.

On one side was wealth; on the other, a multitude.

This month’s battle for the rankings became especially fierce.

It was a war between ordinary people and capital.

The monthly tickets for both books soared, quickly leaving the third place far behind.

At this point, no one cared about their own rankings anymore. After all, except for the top two, moving up or down a spot didn’t matter much.

Because the vast majority of monthly tickets were concentrated on these two books, the others received far fewer votes.

At noon, both books surpassed 800,000 monthly tickets.

At that moment, the gap between Jiang Zheng’s book and the first-place book was razor-thin—just several thousand votes apart.

Several thousand votes might sound like a lot, but compared to hundreds of thousands, it was negligible.

Such a small difference could easily be closed.

Jiang Zheng’s side pressed on relentlessly, while the other side sprinted ahead in desperation.

Jiang Zheng was adding more chapters at a frenzied pace; the other side was spending money just as madly.

But one person’s strength is always limited.

No matter how much money you have, you can’t spend endlessly; eventually, you have to stop.

Several golden alliances had already poured in—enough to be considered over the top. To keep spending would simply be irrational.

This was real money being thrown down, not just a pleasing statistic.

Anyone who could put up that much money was truly devoted—a real heavyweight.

But Jiang Zheng’s side had the numbers. If one person wasn’t enough, then a hundred; if a hundred weren’t enough, then ten thousand; if ten thousand weren’t enough, then a hundred thousand. If that still wasn’t enough, there were three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand more.

The gap grew ever smaller, until finally—it was overtaken!

Jiang Zheng became number one!

But nothing was set in stone; until the clock ran out, anything could happen—the lead could even switch back at the last second.

Jiang Zheng didn’t dwell on that. For him, reaching this point was already enough.

Whether or not he truly ended up first, in his heart, he’d already won.

Somewhere, someone asked, “Should we resort to vote manipulation? There’s still time.”

“Forget it. If we’re caught, the consequences will be disastrous. My reputation would be ruined.”

…

After reaching first place, the monthly ticket count didn’t stop climbing—it surged on.

Soon, it hit 900,000.

Many jaws dropped at the number. Nine hundred thousand tickets—what a staggering figure.

And among these votes, only a small part came from large cash rewards; most were cast one by one by individual readers.

No one doubted Jiang Zheng of vote manipulation. No one was that foolish—they all knew what was happening in his review section.

To most people, Jiang Zheng had simply been lucky, caught at the precise moment when everyone’s emotions erupted.

Otherwise, it would’ve been impossible to gather so many votes.

The previous first-place book, now in second, seemed to have given up the fight and no longer tried to contend for the top spot.

There was nothing to be done—Jiang Zheng’s momentum was simply too fierce. The other could only watch in silence, with no hope of victory.

So what if you’re rich? In the end, you still lost to the masses of readers.

The big spenders’ money always runs out, but the power of the people is inexhaustible.

On Jiang Zheng’s side, the votes kept coming, though the pace slowed somewhat.

Night fell.

Then, another peak arrived. The voting speed, which had slowed, surged back to a frenzy.

Nine hundred thousand wasn’t enough!

It broke a million!

One million monthly tickets in a single month—what a terrifying number.

Now, almost everyone fell silent.

A million tickets, and not bought with money. Even if someone wanted to buy votes, no one would dare to buy so many at once.

After two days of intense writing, Jiang Zheng was so exhausted he didn’t even check whether his votes had been overtaken—he simply drifted off to sleep.