Chapter 27: Elena Rushing the Manuscript

Chapter 27: Elena Rushing the Draft

The moment Elena saw the picture book, she had the idea of adding illustrations. After finishing the first two chapters, she grew increasingly eager to include some drawings. She firmly believed her erotic novel could completely outshine *Landiana, A Thrilling Tale*, and if it lost merely due to the lack of illustrations, she would undoubtedly feel furious. Having invested so much effort, she naturally wanted her work to be the most popular.

However, adding illustrations would inevitably divert readers' attention, as images were far more direct than words. Moreover, Elena preferred to draw them as comics—with a coherent storyline—rather than scattered standalone illustrations.

If she turned it into a comic, it would undoubtedly attract even more readers, but then who would bother reading the text? Wouldn’t all her hard work on those chapters go to waste?

"Perhaps it's better to keep them separate," she thought. "Just like pairing horror stories with haunted houses."

The cost of illustrations was much higher than text, and adding color would increase expenses further. Unless the work was already well-received, publishers would likely hesitate. Though Elena was confident in her manhwa-style art, there was no guarantee it would be well-received—what if it didn’t suit local tastes?

The best-case scenario would be for the text version of *Spring Dreams* to earn praise, followed by a comic adaptation, achieving a synergistic effect greater than the sum of its parts. If possible, she even wanted to include paper-doll outfits—imagining them dressed in alluring, provocative attire would surely boost sales.

Wait—she had originally intended to write a simple erotic story to test whether Goddess Deidre embodied desirous love, thereby pleasing the goddess as a roundabout strategy. How had her thoughts wandered so far?

Elena quickly reeled in her fantasies and refocused on the text, continuing the unfinished plot.

Apart from the high-ranking nobleman, the dream’s protagonists also included the husband’s best friend—a righteous and well-mannered lawyer. But in the dream, his "member" was nothing short of extraordinary, providing the lady with unparalleled pleasure. Even after waking, she found herself longing for her dream lover. Unbeknownst to her, outside the dream, the husband’s upright friend had already begun casting discreet glances her way.

From there, Elena let her imagination run wild. Whether it was the gentle, shy neighbor next door, the cheerful and outgoing older brother of a friend, or the aloof and cold brother-in-law—though their real-life counterparts might find such roles unacceptable, it was just a dream, so why not?—all of them encountered the lady in her dreams, offering her varied sensual pleasures. During her conjugal duties, the lady couldn’t help but compare them to the dullness of reality—with stark results.

However, the lady had received a proper upbringing as a refined gentlewoman. Though she might realize she was dreaming, she couldn’t entirely shed her inhibitions, remaining hesitant and resistant toward her dream lovers. Of course, her lovers would take it upon themselves to break down her defenses, leaving her begging for more.

As for the other male protagonists who shared the same dreams, what strange thoughts they might develop about the lady and whether they would act on them in reality remained an open question. Elena cleverly left room to gauge reader reactions. If even the dream escapades proved too much for them, she would need to dial it back and write more subtly. But if readers embraced it, she could boldly expand the story further.

Such sensual writing didn’t require complex plots. Once the outline was set, Elena wrote at a feverish pace. Each lover’s story spanned about twenty thousand words, and within two weeks, she had completed the first two. During this time, Vera and Grace occasionally visited her study. Fortunately, thanks to her quick reflexes and their impeccable manners—never peeking at her drafts without permission—she managed to keep her secret.

Aside from these scandalous stories, Elena also had to meet deadlines for *Ladies' Monthly*, illustrating paper dolls, and reviewing submissions. The workload was overwhelming—she wished she could split herself in two.

*Helen* followed a familiar formula. Having read countless tales of switched identities, Elena wrote with ease. After putting it off for two installments, Helen’s parents—who had accompanied the imposter heiress on vacation—finally returned. But this was no happy reunion for Helen. Her birth parents begged her to return home as a distant relative, urging her not to usurp the imposter’s position. Helen, of course, was shocked, heartbroken, and devastated. Yet, faced with the parents she had longed for, she ultimately chose to forgive.

The heroine had to be a pushover—how else would readers get angry and keep reading?

The imposter heiress, meanwhile, was a perfect little schemer. Terrified that Helen’s return would strip her of everything, she resolved to drive her away. Though she put on the act of a gentle, considerate lady, behind the scenes, she mocked Helen, starved her, and encouraged the servants to bully her—whatever it took to make her leave.

Finally, Elena ended the installment with a classic set-up: the imposter heiress tumbled down the stairs, falsely accusing Helen of pushing her. Helen’s birth parents and brother immediately sided against her, leaving her with no way to defend herself.

It was infuriating—absolutely infuriating. Elena even felt a pang of pity for Helen. But tropes were tropes because they worked. When she let Vera and Grace preview it, their furious glares nearly scorched her.

"This isn’t fair!!!" Vera hissed. "How dare she treat Helen like this! That damned impostor! Why would you write this? What good does it do to make me this angry?!"

Even Grace gave Elena a disapproving look. "This is too unreasonable. How could nobles slander someone like this? They should at least investigate properly!"

"Your impression of nobility is unrealistic," Vera countered, surprisingly not siding with her this time. "They’re absolutely capable of this. That said, I still can’t accept it—Helen is their real daughter."

Elena chuckled. "Well, imagine if, say, the Duke of Berkeley were suddenly exposed as a fake, and a clumsy, uncultured real heir from the countryside appeared. Would you accept him so easily?"

Vera and Grace both frowned.

"That’s different," Vera argued, searching for a flaw. "How could the Duke of Berkeley possibly be fake?"

Grace offered a similar response. "I suppose this backwoods heir really couldn’t compare to the Duke of Berkeley."

"Exactly," Elena said. "So, given the imposter’s spotless reputation, everyone around them thinks the same way."

The two ladies fell silent, exchanging glances.

"Speaking of true heirs," Vera changed the subject, "have you seen the latest issue of *Cassell Magazine*? It ran a serial novel about a switched-at-birth heir, and it’s supposedly very popular—this issue sold ten thousand more copies than usual."

Elena didn't have time for other magazines; she was already swamped with her own work. Curious despite herself, she asked, "How is it?"

Vera took out a magazine. "I was just about to show it to you."

*Cassell Magazine* was all about fiction, as its name suggested, primarily featuring various genres of novels—from romantic love stories to thrilling adventures. Vera had money to burn and time to kill lately, so she'd subscribed to several such magazines to pass the time.

"This is the one," she flipped to the corresponding page and pointed it out to Elena. "The last issue had a story called *Gold*, which was painfully boring. This time, it’s suddenly replaced with *The Family Mystery*."

Elena eagerly began reading.

The author of this story was Wells. Unlike *Helen*, which was tense and gripping, this tale took its time painting an aristocratic family. It was clear the author must have been of noble birth himself, as he meticulously captured the elegance and romance of the Regency style. The entire work exuded a rich sense of family tradition—from manners and conversations to home decor and the showy, stuck-up parts of aristocratic life. Not that Elena could've written this herself—she simply lacked such experiences.

The pacing of the story was very slow. It began with an annual family gathering, devoting considerable detail to the setting and background, introducing four members of the family: the noble patriarch, who prioritized family honor; the elegant lady of the manor; the young master, regarded as the heir; and the spunky young lady. Together, they painted a vivid picture of aristocratic life.

The story ended abruptly when the young master discovered an anonymous letter concerning his origins.

Admittedly, judging by the title and style, it didn’t seem like a tale of deceit and rivalry between a true and false heir. Instead, it focused more on the daily lives of the family members, depicting how they faced unexpected upheavals. Elena could almost imagine the consequences of that anonymous letter—perhaps before the false heir even appeared, the letter alone would stir up all sorts of repercussions.

"Completely different in style," Elena remarked after finishing.

Vera nodded. "Indeed, it’s not half as maddening as your *Helen*. The characters here are very aristocratic—elegant, amiable. I suppose it’s the kind of noble ideal Grace fantasizes about. But, well, the nobles you write about are the realistic norm—cold, ruthless, and only concerned with self-interest."

Grace was mortified, yet she couldn’t refute it. After all, she did have a certain idealized view of the aristocracy. "But Vera, you and the Duke of Berkeley are just like the nobles in this story—graceful, dignified, and kind."

Vera froze. She cleared her throat and began looking around awkwardly.

Grace, having scored a point, smiled. "But I think *Helen* is more compelling. For some reason, after reading your *Helen*, *The Family Mystery* feels so slow-paced—I even grew a little impatient."

No surprise there. After binging so much web fiction, Elena had also lost interest in traditional works. Once one’s threshold for stimulation was raised, it was hard to lower it again.

After exchanging a few more words, Vera and Grace left Elena to her writing. Before departing, Vera pulled her aside with a hint of concern, quietly advising her to prepare her belongings—they might need to skip town for the countryside any day now.

"It’s all because of those Tribunal people," Vera whispered. "They’re keeping an eye on the Duke of Berkeley while also hunting for people like us in the city. His Grace the Duke wrote that if things get too dangerous, we should retreat to the countryside—he's got a castle in Sugue."

Elena’s eyes widened. She couldn't believe after all this time, the investigation hadn’t died down but instead intensified to the point where they might need to flee. Then again... she'd never crashed in a castle before.