What do you think is the real meaning behind the phrase every parent says, "Study hard and success shall be yours!"?
I clung to those words that my parents repeated to me for more than half of my life.
I studied—so hard that I forgot what a good night's sleep felt like. I tried my best to meet my mother and father's expectations. I—I worked so hard.
I still remember the day I got an A on a test for the first time. Like any child, I had a huge smile on my face. That should have been one of the best days of my life, if only my mother hadn't reacted the way she did.
I came rushing home after seeing my test result, running so fast that I almost got hit by a speeding bicycle.
The elevator was late, and, as any impatient child would, I took the stairs instead. I sprinted toward the front door of our apartment, imagining all the possibilities of what was waiting for me inside. I stood in front of the door, barely tall enough to reach the lock.
I took a deep breath and, brimming with excitement, opened it. There she was—my mother—cradling my little brother in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder.
I charged toward her faster than ever, and then… she stepped aside, with a sharp warning, "Rin, what are you doing? Can't you see I'm holding your little brother?!"
The suddenness of her voice shocked me; my feet slipped and my knees hit the floor with a thud. A warm trickle ran down my forehead, but it didn't hurt as much as her words did.
"Just an A? It's not like you won a national competition. Don't waste my time—go study."
...
I stared at her.
I spent the rest of the day crying.
I thought I could earn my parents' love by getting better marks, so I kept studying. Day and night, I did nothing but study. Eventually, I placed fifth in the entire country.
But there was no one to hear me, because my parents died in a plane crash last year.
I did everything I could to get into a good college for my future. I applied to one of the most prestigious schools in the country, and even with my fifth-place ranking, I was rejected.
I sank into deep depression. Before I knew it, I had turned to anime for solace. Then I discovered manga— I was hooked. Next came webnovels, and I fell in love.
I wanted to draw my own manga, but I knew I wasn't good at art. Instead, I started writing my own novel. My childhood habit of imagining endless scenarios finally paid off.
Lacking money for a laptop, I wrote on my phone. My first attempt felt awful, so I scrapped it. Over time, I improved.
Eventually, I completed my first novel—something that satisfied me and even earned a small fanbase.
I loved it so I published my second novel. I didn't want to write for others, I was writing for myself. But then comments started flowing in…
[Reader Comments – Chapter 34]
[GooningDragon_69]Where's the harem bro? It's a male MC and he's not surrounded by 5 waifus? SMH.
[PantyRaider]Not a single ecchi scene? No bath "accidents"? What is this, a serious story?
[Ecchi_Senpai]Thought this was gonna be some sweet harem slice-of-life. But no, I'm out here feeling emotions. NOT COOL. 😤
[Lewd_Lurker]Bro Rin needs at least 3 love interests by Chapter 5 or I'm dropping.
[CrimsonBaddieKing]Don't get me wrong, this is deep and emotional and all...BUT WHERE THE HELL ARE THE CATGIRLS?!
[WaifuOverPlot]Author, I respect the emotional depth… but next time, please add a tsundere or at least some accidental groping.
I was fed up with those comments. The helpful tips from serious readers became fewer and fewer, buried under waves of demands for harem and ecchi scenes. I had been writing what I loved, what felt right to me—but the pressure got to me. Because at the end of the day, I needed money to survive.
So, I gave in.
I started adding harem elements and ecchi scenes like the readers wanted—scenes I hated writing. I even ended up watching tutorials titled "How to Write Ecchi Harem in Your Novel." Can you believe that?
And just like that, I finished my second novel. Then my third. Fourth. Fifth.
By that point, I was a well-known author in the community. I'd even earned enough to finally buy myself a laptop.
Then, I made a decision.
I would start working on my sixth novel...