Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

7:30 p.m.

"Zhu Xian" has officially been featured on the new book recommendation list in the Xianxia category of Hongqiezi Literature Network.

Lin Yuan refreshed the page and saw his new book firmly displayed in the recommendation section, finally letting out a long sigh of relief.

Approval, signing, and recommendation.

After working for half a day, I finally got the book into the starting position.

As for when readers will get on board and when they'll collectively wail at the bottom of the pit, that's a matter for later.

He had just relaxed when a crisp knock came from the door.

"Hey kid, come out and eat!"

"Any later, and your favorite sweet and sour pork ribs would have been devoured by your mom and me!"

Lin Yuan looked up instantly.

"No, Dad! Leave some for me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he slammed his laptop shut, pushed open the door, and rushed out.

The rich, warm aroma of food wafted over, instantly waking him up from standby mode.

On the table, the sweet and sour pork ribs are a glossy red, with a rich and mellow sauce, and the aroma of sweet and sour flavors rises with the steam. Next to them are garlic-flavored greens, braised beef brisket with potatoes, and a bowl of steaming mushroom soup.

At that moment, Lin Yuan felt like he hadn't just walked into the living room.

Instead, they went to the awards ceremony for the winners of life.

"It smells so good!"

He rushed to the dining table, his eyes lighting up.

"Don't anyone try to take it from me tonight, I'm going to show off!"

After typing all afternoon, he was starving. But seeing this plate of sweet and sour pork ribs instantly revitalized him.

I was just a writer a moment ago.

It has now been switched to the God of Dry Rice.

Seeing his son wolfing down his food, Lin Liguo chuckled and joked:

"Eat slowly, at least leave a couple of pieces for your mom."

"At this rate, next time I make sweet and sour pork ribs, I'll have to buy three pounds of pork ribs directly."

Jiang Wanqing, her eyes full of doting affection, quietly placed two pieces of pork ribs into Lin Yuan's bowl, gently dismantling his plan:

"Don't listen to your dad's nonsense, eat as much as you want."

Lin Yuan, his mouth stuffed full, chuckled indistinctly:

"It's been so long since I've had this. Eating more is purely to replenish my brainpower."

"Three catties is too small. Next time, upgrade and make a whole big plate."

Lin Liguo was delighted.

"At this rate of eating, if you keep eating like this, your mother and I will only be able to eat vegetables and white rice for every meal from now on, focusing on weight loss and health."

"That's absolutely unacceptable!"

Lin Yuan's emotional intelligence kicked in instantly, and he quickly served food to his parents.

"The best food will definitely go to the two elders first."

"I'll only be responsible for the final liquidation; I'll never compete with you for it."

After saying that, he added:

"After all, my greatest strength is my filial piety."

Lin Liguo looked at the extra food that had suddenly appeared in his bowl and laughed, scolding:

"Your mouth has gotten much sweeter than before."

Jiang Wanqing couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright, stop joking around and eat quickly, the food will get cold soon."

The living room was warmly lit.

The table was filled with steaming dishes, the sweetness of sweet and sour pork ribs, the aroma of rice, and the rustic charm of home-cooked meals all blending together.

As Lin Yuan ate, he listened to his parents bickering, and a sense of peace suddenly settled in his heart.

Having been reborn, I can take my time with building an entertainment empire, becoming a legend online, and achieving explosive data growth.

The hot meal in front of him, the lamp, and his two relatives who would smile and urge him to eat more were the things he most wanted to keep.

A simple home-cooked dinner thus came to a close amidst the warm, smoky atmosphere.

10 PM.

The bedroom of the Su family next door.

Su Zhiyuan begins her daily routine of slacking off before bed.

Stripped of the aloof and distant facade she presents to outsiders, she is, in private, a true fan of fantasy novels.

I secretly follow the updates in bed, and when I see something angsty, I'll punch my pillow until I'm internally injured.

She nestled in her soft blankets, casually tapping on the popular book list, intending to pick a good book to pass the time before bed.

I scrolled through the page for ages, my fingertips never stopping.

The book titles are all outrageous, and the synopses are all incredibly forceful.

She had long been tired of these kinds of lighthearted, wish-fulfillment stories.

The reversals came too quickly, the plot twists were too frequent, and the protagonist won too easily.

It looked lively, but when you turned the page, nothing was left.

Su Zhiyuan stared at the ceiling for half a minute in a daze.

Reason told her: Go to sleep, don't torture yourself.

But my fingers are honest: one last swipe.

So she picked up her phone again, abandoned the trending lists, and randomly clicked on the recommended new fantasy novels.

As I swiped my finger, a book title suddenly caught my eye.

"Zhu Xian"

The cover features an elegant and cool ink-wash style, with ink-colored mountain shadows hidden among the clouds and mist, and a solitary lamp in the distance, quiet and mysterious.

It's like a row of night market stalls where a white-clad swordsman suddenly sits playing the guqin.

Su Zhiyuan's curiosity was instantly piqued.

She clicked on a page in the book.

Pen name: Old Man of Akina Mountain.

The introduction is extremely brief, consisting of only one sentence:

Heaven and earth are not benevolent, and all things are dogs.

Su Zhiyuan raised an eyebrow slightly.

This pen name is somewhat unconventional.

But this introduction is so serious it's almost frightening.

One is like racing on Mount Akina, the other is like questioning the Dao before Heaven.

The contrast completely stifled her curiosity.

With the thought of "I'll quit immediately if I don't like it," she clicked on the first chapter.

At first, Su Zhiyuan was somewhat disappointed.

She originally thought that since the title "Zhu Xian" was so imposing, the opening scene should at least have some grand scenes.

But the story progresses very slowly.

It was so slow it was almost quiet.

Normally, she would have already quit.

This time, my fingertip paused for a moment, but then continued to slide down.

She originally just wanted to see what kind of writing this author with such an outrageous pen name could produce.

At some point, she sat up straight.

As the words on the screen scrolled by, his initially scattered gaze gradually became more focused.

Caomiao Village.

Zhang Xiaofan.

An ordinary village, an ordinary boy.

There was no great battle between gods and immortals, and no strange celestial phenomena.

Su Zhiyuan was initially critical in her mind.

This is too slow.

The characters are too ordinary.

The protagonist seems a bit dull and stupid, neither exceptionally talented nor possessing an extraordinary background.

The children's play, the villagers' ordinary days, and the otherworldly atmosphere of Qingyun Sect gradually unfolded.

Unbeknownst to her, she was already standing in a place called Caomiao Village.

She saw Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu.

One was dull and ordinary, the other was intelligent and outstanding.

A genius boy, with ordinary people as his foil.

Following the usual pattern, it'll probably be the same old stuff again.

But as she read, her fingers paused for longer and longer periods.

Because she discovered that the author wasn't in a hurry to tell her who was the darling of fate.

On the contrary, those seemingly ordinary people and things are gradually sinking deeper into the past.

Su Zhiyuan's heart tightened the moment the tragedy in Caomiao Village occurred.

She even subconsciously held her breath.

All the previous quiet and ordinariness suddenly gained weight in that instant.

The laughter of the villagers, the children's playful squabbles, and the everyday things she had just complained about as "not satisfying enough" suddenly all turned into knives.

Each cut, belated, slashed at her heart.

"So what happened before wasn't useless after all..."

Su Zhiyuan murmured softly.

She stared at the screen, her eyes completely changed.

She had thought she was just browsing casually.

But when Zhang Xiaofan survived that disaster, when the people from Qingyun Sect appeared, and when the two teenagers were taken to that lofty immortal mountain, she suddenly felt a strong curiosity.

What will become of this child who seems least like the protagonist?

With the bloodshed, everything lost, and secrets unknown to anyone in his heart, how will he continue on his path?

Su Zhiyuan continued flipping through the pages.

The grandeur of Qingyun Sect gradually unfolded.

Tongtian Peak, Dazhu Peak, Tian Buyi, Su Ru, Song Daren, and those senior brothers and sisters who were full of life.

She had assumed that most cultivation sects were cold, rigid hierarchies, rules, and competition among geniuses.

But Dazhufeng is different.

It wasn't impressive enough, even a bit lazy, which was kind of funny.

Tian Buyi has an eccentric temper and complains verbally; Su Ru is gentle and dignified, and her senior brothers don't act like high and mighty immortals.

After Zhang Xiaofan joined Dazhu Peak, his clumsiness, slowness, and unremarkable nature only made Su Zhiyuan pay more and more attention to him.

He's not smart enough.

Their qualifications are also not good.

He is slow to practice, slow to react, and even seems somewhat silent when others dislike him.

But he was very serious about it.

Their dedication is heartbreaking.

Su Zhiyuan originally enjoyed watching geniuses dominate.

But at this moment, she suddenly felt that there was another kind of power in a person walking clumsily forward that made it hard to look away.

Her fingertips slid slower and slower.

She no longer reads to verify whether "this author can actually write."

She genuinely wanted to know what would happen next.

I want to know the truth about Caomiao Village.

I wonder if this silent and slow-witted boy will one day stand in front of everyone.

Just as she was fully engrossed in the story, the chapter abruptly ended.

Su Zhiyuan stared at the screen, remaining silent for a full three seconds.

Then, she slowly typed a question mark.

"this one?"

It's not that I think it's too little.

It's because there's so little.

She stubbornly flipped through the pages.

No more.

Refresh again.

still none.

Su Zhiyuan took a deep breath, trying her best to maintain the last bit of dignity of the cold-faced school beauty.

Unfortunately, dignity is worthless in the face of fragments.

She gently placed her phone on the pillow, turned off the light, pulled the blanket over her head, and half-covered it.

Even after closing my eyes, the images from the book kept replaying in my mind.

A blood-red rainy night in Caomiao Village.

Zhang Xiaofan's confusion and helplessness.

The more I think about it, the less I can sleep.

She tossed and turned in bed, repeatedly reaching for her phone to refresh the page.

There are still no new chapters in the background.

Su Zhiyuan stared at the pen name and silently made a mental note of it.

Old scoundrel of Mount Akina.

it is good.

well.

It's one thing for the name to sound like an experienced driver, but the way the author skillfully cuts out fragments is also quite impressive.

This old scoundrel not only knows how to drive, but he also knows how to drive readers into a ditch with a single press of the accelerator, then locks his car and drives off.

After struggling for a long time to no avail, she could only put her phone under her pillow and silently complain about the heartless author who dug a hole and then left it unresolved.

The night outside the window was thick with darkness.

The bedside lamp was already off, with only the phone indicator light flickering in the dark.

Su Zhiyuan hugged her pillow, her thoughts in turmoil.

Who is the mysterious man in black in Caomiao Village?

Why would he use the Qingyun Kung Fu?

What terrifying origin does that Bloodthirsty Bead hold?

A thousand questions swirled in my mind, and weariness finally crept in.

She fell into a deep sleep, her mind filled with questions, her phone screen still showing the reading page of "Zhu Xian".