Chapter 88

After handing over the first few thousand words of *The Martian Rescue* to Zhao Ming, the two groups parted ways at the teahouse, each going about their own business.

As the vice president of the People's University Press, Zhao Ming clearly had a lot on his plate. Now that Lin Han's publication was largely due to his efforts, he was eager to check on the new book and discuss the royalty issues with the leadership.

On Lin Han's side, things were much simpler. He took out his phone and opened the text message from the bank. "The *Science Fiction World* magazine just notified me that the prize money for the Galaxy Award has been transferred. However, it's taxed as personal income rather than as manuscript fees."

"I thought they would try to dodge the payment. They gave you the trophy before the Spring Festival, but it took this long for the money to come through. I wonder how many days it's been sitting in the bank or elsewhere," Chen Jiaxuan couldn't help but comment. She often encountered delayed payments, but she didn't expect it to take this long.

The 500,000 yuan Galaxy Award prize money was reduced to 300,000 yuan after taxes, and this tax rate made Lin Han's heart tremble. It was nearly cut in half!

Compared to personal income tax, manuscript fees were much easier to handle. As mentioned earlier, his 1.5 million yuan in manuscript fees only had about 200,000 yuan deducted.

"Once the People's University Press pays the manuscript fees, I'll transfer the money to you. Now we're finally starting to make a profit, and I won't let you work for free."

Lin Han glanced at Chen Jiaxuan, then gulped down the tea in front of him, savoring it like a fine dish.

Chen Jiaxuan shrugged. She didn't live off these two payments, but since they had signed a contract, there was no need to be polite. She picked up her bag and said, "You can give it to me whenever. I might have to accompany an artist to record a program on Dragon TV, and then go to Hengdian to manage her new drama. I'll probably be back in a week. Call me if you need anything."

Being a talent agent was exhausting, especially for someone like Chen Jiaxuan who ran her own studio. Despite her young age and outstanding abilities, she still lacked some connections and often had to travel all over China.

"Take care and don't work yourself harder than the stars," Lin Han said. Not knowing what else to say, he fell silent for a moment before leaving.

...

Now that Lin Han had little to do, he walked around a nearby park and then sent a text message to Li Wenyuan, wanting to meet up and chat.

"I'm currently out with a few science fiction authors and editors. Do you want to join us? It's a good chance to meet some people."

Lin Han, who didn't want to be a shut-in, thought about it and replied, "Sure, I'll come over. Where are you?"

After Li Wenyuan sent a message with the location, he continued chatting with the other authors. As a renowned science fiction writer, it was normal for him to occasionally gather with friends.

After all, not every writer was as proactive as Lin Han, and a writer who didn't delay their work wasn't a good writer.

If an editor didn't use various methods to催促 (urge) the writer, they wouldn't even feel comfortable calling themselves a grandmaster.

Lin Han hailed a taxi and headed to their gathering place. He began to think about how to spend over a million yuan in Beijing, which seemed like a long way off. Just as he was seriously considering this, another payment was credited to his account. This was the royalty from Amazon's online bookstore. His *I, Robot* was selling very well, with 120,000 copies sold in January due to a lack of promotion. Now, sales in February had increased significantly.

120,000 copies, without any discounts, were sold at $4.99 each. He received 70% of the revenue, which amounted to $420,000 before taxes. However, the tax situation was complicated, with different transaction fees and tax rates in different countries. Amazon provided a detailed tax statement, and Lin Han could now receive $290,000, which was a significant improvement.

"Is today the day of the money god?" Lin Han muttered to himself. He hadn't received any payments for a long time, but today he received money from almost every channel.

Moreover, Penguin Publishing Group and St. Martin's Press would also pay him an advance royalty based on the first print run, which was 30% of the total manuscript fee, to ensure that authors didn't starve.

The driver didn't care why the man in the back seat was smiling. When they arrived at the destination, he quickly printed the receipt and said, "Sir, we've arrived. The elevator is right ahead."

"Thanks!" Lin Han paid and got out of the car. The place called Sweet Orange Book Bar seemed quite famous, as it had a large space in the bustling city for reading and discussion. The owner must have been a dedicated person.

Pushing open the glass door of the book bar, Lin Han saw Li Wenyuan sitting by the window with a group of men and women. The oldest seemed to be around fifty, and the youngest was a student-like young woman. They were discussing casually.

"Everyone, let me introduce you to Lin Han, who won the Galaxy Award a few days ago. He's one of the most promising authors in our science fiction community," Li Wenyuan said, putting his arm around Lin Han's shoulder and introducing him to the group. "He's different from us procrastinators. His *I, Robot* was published less than two months ago, and he's already finished his new book. That's some speed."

Lin Han didn't underestimate anyone. He smiled, showing his neat and white teeth, "Hello everyone, I'm a newcomer to science fiction. I hope you'll take care of me in the future."

"I've read your book, and it's excellent. I especially like the story about the last person on Earth. Who do you think is knocking at the door?"

The people present were all book lovers, and they had heard about Lin Han's news. Now they finally matched the name with the person.

"Who's knocking at the door isn't important; it's a matter of interpretation. Whatever Teacher Han thinks, that's who it is."

Lin Han didn't give too many answers. It was originally an open-ended question, and the openness was what made people truly think.

If Lin Han had written a specific answer, it would have turned a masterpiece into an ordinary work.

"Old Li, I actually called you all here today to let you know that *Fantasy Era* will cease publication next month. We can't sustain it anymore. I'm exhausted, and I thank you all for your support. Without you, we would have stopped long ago. It's all thanks to you that we've been able to hold on this long," the gray-haired Han Yong said with a sigh. A magazine that had been running for decades was coming to an end, and it was hard not to feel sad.

Although Lin Han didn't fully understand, he knew the history of *Fantasy Era*. It was a magazine that embraced all genres, not limited to any specific type of literature, whether it was science fiction, fantasy, or magical realism.

While some magazines were thriving, others that had accompanied people for a long time quietly disappeared into history.

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