Trillionaire's Slice of Life

The Rolls-Royce pulled out of the villa's gate, and Chu Mo, leaning gently against the soft backrest, instructed:

"Go to the largest bookstore nearby."

Fang Lihu, sitting in the passenger seat, immediately responded respectfully.

Turning his gaze outside the window, Chu Mo couldn't help but picture the cheeks of the maid Annie.

Whether it was Annie or Tina, these two foreign maids were probably the most beautiful among all the maids, especially Tina with her blue eyes. Her beauty could even rival that of Zhan Bingxue and Yang Xuan, and in an average university, she would at least be considered the campus belle.

It was just a pity that even Tina's beauty still fell short of the requirements for the 95th floor maidservants in Tianxiang Garden.

That was also the reason why Chu Mo suddenly uttered a word of regret.

If the two maids' beauty had been just a bit more, they would have qualified for entering the 95th floor of Tianxiang Garden, and Chu Mo wouldn't have had to worry about finding new replacements.

Of course, on the other hand, Annie and Tina's beauty was already quite high, sufficiently divine to stand out anywhere else. If their beauty were just a notch above, they probably wouldn't have ended up working as maids in the Imperial Pavilion.

Even if they wanted to be superstars, that level of beauty would have been enough.

As he sighed inwardly, the Rolls-Royce turned past the crossroad fountain and quickly exited the gates of the villa.

The towering skyscrapers on either side of the road soon took Chu Mo's mind off his whimsical thoughts and refocused his attention on the book he had published.

(Chu Mo's Collection of Short Stories) could be said to be the fruits of his years of writing. Chu Mo began writing in high school and, by relying on royalties, stopped asking his family for money in his second year of university. Counting it all up, he had published at least a thousand articles over the years.

This published collection comprised three hundred and eighty short texts, all meticulously chosen by Chu Mo himself.

Of course, Chu Mo wrote the book himself and was well aware of its quality. To compare it with the works of great literary masters would be to overestimate him far too much.

But being acknowledged by the magazine publishers and earning three to five hundred per article meant that the quality wasn't too bad either.

In summary, the quality of this book was probably subpar, not quite there when compared to the best, yet not particularly advantaged when compared with the rest...

Had Chu Mo not invested his own resources to publish it, assuming full responsibility for profit and loss, this book would never have appeared in bookstores across the country.

A first print run of fifty thousand copies was merely an indication of Chu Mo's financial muscle. After all, for most who self-publish, printing thirty to fifty thousand copies was already a bold move; fifty thousand was a concession usually reserved for famous and genuine authors. For a half-baked author like Chu Mo, a loss was hardly surprising.

Of course, for Chu Mo, even if not a single copy of the fifty thousand was sold, it would be of little consequence.

What he sought was the fame, so later when he talked with his parents and friends, he could proudly say that his book was available in major bookstores across the country. Naturally, the royalty fees and such were just a safeguard he had put in place for his parents.

"Once things settle down here in a few days, I can find some time to visit home... I'll start by buying a car for Dad, nothing too expensive, but not too cheap either, fifty or sixty thousand should be quite decent for that small county."

He mused to himself, and before long, the Rolls-Royce had already stopped in front of a bookstore. Fang Lihu, standing over two meters tall, respectfully opened the car door for Chu Mo. As Chu Mo stepped out of the car, many nearby eyes turned towards him.

Already accustomed to such gazes, Chu Mo instructed:

"You guys just wait around here, no need to follow me."

The several tall men in black immediately nodded their heads respectfully.

Chu Mo walked towards the bookstore with measured steps. Find exclusive stories on empire

He didn't rush to search for his own book but strolled leisurely through the bookstore.

The store's speakers played a piece of light music at a low volume, not loud enough to disturb the customers. The atmosphere was equally calm, inducing a sense of relaxation.

Chu Mo was quite familiar with this environment. Back when he was writing his articles, he often visited various bookstores to browse and read.

Now, stepping foot in this place again, the restlessness in his heart was slowly replaced by tranquility. As his fingertips lightly brushed the spines of the books, still fragrant with ink, he took a deep breath. Beneath his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes showed a hint of satisfaction.

It was still noon, and the spacious bookstore had only a few customers. Chu Mo leisurely picked out articles that interested him, occasionally, upon finding a piece that caught his eye, he would read for a moment and then take the book with him. After half an hour, he was holding four or five books in his arms.

When he slowly approached the prose section, his heartbeat quickened for an instant but then returned to calm.

Then, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and surveyed the rows of books in front of him with a suddenly earnest demeanor. Finally, in a rather inconspicuous spot on the fourth row, he saw the words (Chu Mo's Collection of Short Stories).

He immediately ceased his movements, as if frozen by some force, Chu Mo stared motionlessly at the book before him. After a long while, he placed the other selected books on a shelf behind him and gently took out his own collection of short stories.

With a hint of satisfaction in his eyes, Chu Mo tenderly caressed the title page of the book, radiating a look of contentment and enjoyment.