I Became an All-round Artist

For the readers, the ending of Prince of Tennis didn't come as a surprise. At the end of the fourth volume, released in April, the editorial team had already announced that the novel was nearing its conclusion. Despite this, the readers couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of reluctance.

Everyone was still so engrossed in the story.
And now you’re telling me it’s about to end?

Popular novels like this often go on for at least two or three million words, so while readers weren’t caught off guard, many still found it hard to adjust. This sense of discomfort only amplified their reluctance to let go.

But that’s natural.
The plot of Prince of Tennis is incredibly tight, with no filler at all. Each volume is filled with excitement, and the final one, centered on the national tournament, was especially thrilling. The Seigaku tennis team reached the pinnacle of their journey!
There was no attempt at pretentious literary flair here.
The readers got their perfect ending.

Right after Chu Kuang’s short story won first prize in the Tribe Literary Competition, Prince of Tennis sparked a widespread discussion among fans of fantasy literature, just one day apart from the short story crowd.

"I binged the entire last volume in one sitting!"
"Even though the ending was perfect, I still feel a sense of loss. Maybe it's because these characters have been with me for nearly half a year, and now it feels like they're suddenly leaving."
"My favorite series has finally ended."
"I borrowed the earlier volumes from a classmate, but now that the novel's complete, I bought all the previous volumes for my collection. I’m sure I’ll revisit them in the future."
"A pioneer of sports fiction!"
"I never thought I’d become so obsessed with a sports-themed novel. Even though I still don’t play tennis, it doesn’t diminish how important this book is to me."

Readers flooded Silver Blue Publishing’s message board with comments, filled the forums with posts, and shared their thoughts on Tribe and even in their friend circles.
The novel had become a resounding success.

It didn’t just influence readers; it impacted other authors too. Before Chu Kuang published Prince of Tennis, sports fiction was a niche genre, barely noticed by anyone. But after the novel’s release, many new sports-themed stories started appearing in the market.

There were basketball stories,
soccer stories,
and even ones about track and field.
The most popular one was called Slam Dunk, written by He Mingxuan, the author who had once lost his place on the rising stars list because of Chu Kuang. After reading Prince of Tennis, He Mingxuan found his new direction. He even posted on Tribe:
“Chu Kuang is the one who guided me onto the path of sports fiction. He’s the trailblazer for our genre.”

Sports fiction remained a niche, but Chu Kuang proved that there was a market for it. Even a novel using sports as its medium could get readers to pay up, which is why several others found success by following in his footsteps. Naturally, those who imitated Chu Kuang came to revere him as a flagbearer for the genre.

Within the industry, many were discussing the novel’s ending. Their sentiments were similar to those at Silver Blue Publishing. Everyone thought Lin Yuan was an unusually headstrong rookie, deciding to end such a successful book so abruptly.

"Couldn’t he just pad the story a bit more?"
"Ending it after only a million words?"
"Silver Blue Publishing must be dumbfounded. How could they have such a stubborn author who doesn’t care about the hundreds of thousands of yuan he could keep earning each month? If it were me, I’d keep writing until Silver Blue went bankrupt!"
"Isn’t Chu Kuang focusing on short stories now?"
"I’ve been following his short stories, and honestly, he’s terrifying. He’s mastered two completely different genres. Easily the best new author we’ve seen in years."
"Let’s see how his next book does."
"Once Chu Kuang realizes his new book isn’t as successful as Prince of Tennis, he might regret ending it so soon. After all, sports fiction isn’t easy to make popular."

There were sighs of regret, musings of admiration, and even a bit of schadenfreude. Silver Blue’s competitors were particularly pleased. The editor-in-chief of Dingsheng Publishing, for example, was sipping a glass of wine, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

"Silver Blue must be feeling the sting right now."

The thought alone made him smirk. Of course, this wasn’t any personal animosity toward Chu Kuang—he’d never even met the guy. There was no reason to hate him.
In fact, Dingsheng’s editor-in-chief wanted to recruit Chu Kuang. With years of experience, he could easily recognize the author’s undeniable talent. Even if Chu Kuang couldn’t replicate the success of Prince of Tennis, his skill in short stories alone would be enough to attract the attention of any publisher.
Dingsheng definitely wanted him.

His delight, however, stemmed solely from the fact that Silver Blue, their biggest rival, had just lost a major cash cow. After all, a bestseller like Prince of Tennis was a rare find, and any publisher would go to great lengths to protect it.
What could go wrong?
Maybe the plot would start to fall apart.
But even worse than that would be if the plot remained solid, sales stayed strong, and yet the author decided to end the novel anyway. It’s not uncommon for authors to get tired after writing a book for too long and just want to wrap things up.

In other words, they get burnt out.

This usually happens after two or three million words, though. Almost never when a book is only a million words in, which is when the author is making the most money.

"Feels good," the editor-in-chief of Dingsheng murmured, warming his stomach with another sip of wine. Meanwhile, Yang Feng had managed to get in touch with Chu Kuang and nervously asked,
"When will you start working on your next novel?"

“No rush,”
Chu Kuang replied.
Yang Feng wasn’t disappointed. In fact, he was pleased. No rush meant Chu Kuang still planned to write. He’d been worried that Chu Kuang might shift his focus entirely to short stories and stop writing long-form fiction altogether.

But that relief didn’t last long.
Yang Feng quickly grew anxious again. It was great that Chu Kuang would continue writing fantasy novels, but could he really deliver another hit like Prince of Tennis?

At the same time, Lin Yuan was contemplating what kind of novel to order from the system next. Prince of Tennis had wrapped up so quickly that the cursed system had no idea how expensive the cost of living really was!

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