The God of the Human Realm!

Chapter 95 Adding Fragrance to Green Thorns, Cherishing the Moon as She Writes a Book

"The cold wind is like a knife, using the earth as a chopping board and treating all living beings as fish and meat. Snowflakes fly for thousands of miles, turning the sky into a furnace, melting everything into silver..."

"The snow is about to stop, the wind is not yet settled, a carriage comes from the north, its rolling wheels crushing the ice and snow on the ground, but unable to crush the loneliness between heaven and earth..."

The courtyard was covered in snow, frosty and foggy, but the study presented a different, warm and inviting scene.

A thick cashmere blanket was laid underfoot, so soft it felt like walking on clouds. Silver charcoal burned in the four corner copper stoves, filling the air with warm steam.

While the outside world was in turmoil due to the upheaval in Linjiang Prefecture, Hong Yuan had a rare moment of leisure. He spent his days reading and practicing martial arts, which made his life quite fulfilling.

Now he's taken up creative writing again.

As a graduate of an academy who quickly transitioned to flexible employment, it's perfectly reasonable for someone to dream of becoming a writer, right?

Hong Yuan felt that the martial arts practitioners in this world lacked variety in their skills. There were no rankings like the Heavenly Ranking, Earthly Ranking, Black Ranking, or Panic Ranking, leaving him with a sharp but useless sword, unsure of who to challenge.

So they first launched "The Legend of the Condor Heroes," and then spent a lot of money promoting it, starting from Linjiang Prefecture and all the way to Longyuan Prefecture in the state capital. While it was on the shelves of many bookstores, they also had storytellers promote it in various markets, restaurants, and inns to attract readers.

After all, Hong Yuan wanted those martial artists to see and hear that few of them would actually visit a bookstore.
The effect was noticeable. In recent days, as Hong Yuan strolled around the city, he often heard discussions about which of the "Five Great Masters of the World" was the strongest.

Furthermore, many martial artists have discussed who would be selected as the top five martial arts masters in the world today.
Seizing the opportunity, Hong Yuan decided to immediately write another book, "The First Blade of the Storm".

After all, the concept of the 'Weapon Ranking' in this book, which ranks martial arts practitioners, is truly deeply ingrained in people's minds.

Hong Yuan was waiting for some capable and ambitious forces to draw inspiration from this and create some lists of top experts.

When the time comes, if he wants to challenge a master again, he can just look for one on the list.

Of course, typing was impossible; Hong Yuan was only responsible for dictation, while Tao Xiyue did the typing.

With Hong Yuan's current level of comprehension, he can recall any book he has read in the past with a single thought, but he doesn't have time to tell the whole story, he can only give a general outline.

The rest was left to Tao Xiyue for polishing.

If Tao Xiyue didn't work out, there was still Xie Yansheng and his team of advisors.

This is called AI writing.

The snow has stopped, but a cold wind blows, and tiny, glistening flakes drift and fall, landing on the carved window frames.

Tao Xiyue stood in front of the desk by the window, wearing only a light pink gauze dress, her beautiful and graceful figure faintly visible.

Her clothes were stretched into a full curve, her soft, warm skin undulating gently. Her snow-white legs, extending from beneath the gauze skirt, were long, straight, smooth, and incredibly elastic, a result of her martial arts training.

She wasn't wearing shoes, only a pair of delicate bare feet on the cashmere carpet. She gently tiptoed and bent back.

Tao Xiyue held a calligraphy brush in one hand, ink dots spreading on the white paper on the table. Her eyes were watery and dreamy, her red lips were slightly parted, and her face was flushed.

After all, there was a charcoal fire burning inside, and the temperature was quite high, so it was normal to feel a bit hot.

Hong Yuan stood behind Tao Xiyue, supporting her slender waist. He saw her holding a pen, her small hands trembling, unable to write for a long time, thus wasting a good piece of paper.

He couldn't help but frown deeply.

A crisp, clear "snap" rang out, and Tao Xiyue let out a soft cry. Hong Yuan felt the amazing elasticity of the brush and its rapid rebound after being pressed down, and coldly snorted, "Concentrate. I am a scholar by birth, and I cannot stand seeing others waste ink and paper." As he spoke, Hong Yuan stretched out his right hand and grasped Tao Xiyue's small hand holding the brush. The latter clenched her teeth, and a fine sheen of sweat appeared from her swan-like neck downwards.

Feeling ashamed after receiving Hong Yuan's earnest teachings, she collapsed onto the desk, her breasts pressing against it, and cried out in guilt.

On the other side of the study was a huge library, where a graceful and beautiful young woman in a blue dress was organizing the bookshelves, categorizing and placing the books one by one.

This girl in green was none other than Xu Qingjing, the niece of Xu Jingren, one of the two leaders of Black Iron Town!
Nearly a month ago, Black Iron Town was subjected to a fierce attack by Song Yinglong's Black Armor Battalion, and the situation was extremely critical.

Xu Jingren and Ou Zhenyun immediately thought of asking Hong Yuan for help.

Black Iron Town was not isolated from the world at all; on the contrary, due to the arms trade, it had many people from the martial arts world coming and going, and they had naturally heard about Hong Yuan.

Each time, I was stunned and felt incredibly fortunate to have apologized in time.

However, Black Iron Town and Hong Yuan had no connection whatsoever, except for a single weapon transaction involving the 'Deadly Throat-Locking Gun'. The two were unsure whether they could get the other party to help.

But with their century-old business on the verge of collapse, the two had no choice but to try their best.

Hong Yuan had the most contact with Xu Qingjing during the time he was in Black Iron Town.

The two sent out several loyal soldiers to protect Xu Qingjing as they circled around the back mountain to seek reinforcements in the prefectural city. Not long after, the Black Armor Camp withdrew.

Xu Jingren and Ou Zhenyun were deeply shocked. They prepared gifts overnight and delivered dozens of cartloads of valuables to Hong Yuan before dawn the next day.

The two kowtowed in gratitude, and Xu Qingjing was eventually kept by Hong Yuan's side to serve him.

At this moment, Xu Qingjing heard the sound of the desk rubbing against the wall next door, and intermittent sobbing. A blush appeared on her beautiful face.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to drive the sound away, but it lingered in her mind like a persistent, insidious infection.

The book in Xu Qingjing's hand fell to the ground. She quickly picked it up, but felt as if she had caught a chill and was feeling weak. She couldn't help but squeeze her long legs together and stand up while holding onto the bookshelf.

No one knew how much time had passed; the time dragged on endlessly, causing Xu Qingjing immense agony.

Finally, the sounds in the study gradually subsided.

After a moment, Hong Yuan carried Tao Xiyue out of the room. Her gauze dress was soaked, and she looked as if she were asleep.

The ink applied to her face did not diminish the color; instead, it made her even more beautiful.

"Young Master!" Xu Qingjing stepped forward, feeling as if he were walking on clouds with every step. His mind was also in a daze, and his face was burning hot as he bowed.

"Okay." Hong Yuan nodded. "Xiyue spilled ink and got it all over herself. I'll go wash her..."

Within the Tao residence, there was naturally a hot spring. As they spoke, Hong Yuan carried the girl's soft body toward the bath.

“Young master, Qingjing can also serve you…” Xu Qingjing blushed, her voice barely audible.

"What are you talking about? Xiyue and I are working on a creative project. Xiyue writes the text, and Hong dictates it. It's a collaborative work. What are you thinking about at such a young age?"

(End of this chapter)