Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

Chapter 604 The Author's Nonsense (Part 3)

Someone asked me why I didn't like Zhu Wuyao at the beginning of the article. There are two reasons.

First, I know her ending.

I resisted the idea of ​​playing a tragic character, and I maintained an emotional distance from her. I even thought that she had done something wrong, so the tragic ending was reasonable.

As for why she was made to do wrong things and end up like that, instead of creating a protagonist with a charismatic personality like the other female supporting characters, it stems from another reason—

"The character Zhu Wuyao embodies my self-loathing."

I don't like this version of myself, so I don't like this version of her.

Or you could think of it this way—I created this gray world where the Four Sects, and even Licheng, do not represent justice and light. And characters like Ye Xiaozhou, Gu Yiguan, and Fu Shan, who are not absolutely positive, are more outstanding than the protagonists I have described.

The overall tone of the text suggests that I was unable to write a "protagonist who clamors for justice," and why I only gave the protagonist such a superficial sense of justice when he first arrived.

Because what she represents is my past that I cannot accept and cannot go back to.

I was trapped, so I came into her life, and I hope she can walk this path for me.

Some readers may feel uncomfortable when reading the preceding text, which is understandable. I was writing certain parts of the story while forcing myself to endure the discomfort.

My attitude toward "justice" is rather ambiguous. The general idea is that justice that is out of step with the times or is exploited will become an accomplice to evil, while the interests of the majority may seem more like justice. So-called good and evil are just different perspectives. When a person pursues justice, it is very likely to bring suffering to the innocent.

I believe that some of the things the protagonist does are wrong and childish, just like my past self. My reason tells me to point out that this is wrong in the text, but my instinct inevitably leads me to find reasons and defend my "self." This is the source of "hypocritical sentimentality."

This is the reason for the second outcome.

Since she embodies my darkness and "despicable" nature, then—

"If I want to live, why should I let her die?"

Therefore, since I am good at planning and foreshadowing, I will definitely leave her a way out.

I must ensure she lives.

Even if she's stained with other people's blood, even if she's not as radiant as other protagonists, even if she has many flaws, even if she seems hypocritical, conflicted, and not great enough, I will still let her live.

This was an invitation I couldn't refuse, and I came against my will.

She truly died once.

I do not accept her "death" or "death with countless honors."

Admittedly, death would give her an explanation for her mistakes and a lofty moral standing—"She's dead, so she's made amends for her mistakes."

But I don't accept it. Since she embodies my "self-loathing," then she must be just as "selfish" as I am.

Even if she never sees her old friends again, even if she is exhausted, even if she feels guilty, even if her future is uncertain... she will always move forward.

The central idea conveyed in this article is extremely simple, almost like a truism—

"As long as a person is alive, they should do everything in their power to live."

Once a person is dead, all the道理 (principles/truths) become empty words.

This is the central theme of the book, which means that Zhu Wuyao must be an ordinary person to fully interpret this theme.

Later, the reason the writing flowed smoothly was actually because of the part where she slowly walked forward and arrived at the mine—it was like suddenly taking a deep breath, and then everything began to grow, and she suddenly had her own soul.

Yes, Zhu Wuyao has grown out.

I felt a sense of relief.

Then, she would no longer be me, but the one I love.

I may be embarrassed to make excuses for myself, but I can use all my words to glorify those I love.

Therefore, I will end with the phrase "Forever forward before collapse," which once appeared in the mine, because in my heart, her soul was born from this.

Then, slowly and completely, they separated from me.

That's why I went back to revise the text and rewrote the plot before the mine instance.

Well, I might be sorry to my friends, but the protagonist wasn't created perfectly, and the ending didn't have a moral high ground; she didn't "die as gloriously as the protagonist."

Previously, my attitude towards her was always ambiguous. I prefer reasons that may not be entirely honest but can be explained in a few words. When it comes to the real reasons, it always involves self-analysis, which I find somewhat repulsive. I can face myself alone at night and even cry my eyes out, but it feels a bit wrong to bring it up for others to comment on. I actually feel that not many people are qualified to guide my soul.

My writing is a bit stiff.

It's really awkward.

Moreover, "honesty" may very well be met with "malice" later on; it is the prelude to harm.

Fortunately, those of you who have made it this far are all people I've stabbed countless times in the book, so—even if you say something unpleasant, I'll accept it; consider it an eye for an eye.

I stabbed the readers, and the readers stabbed me back.

The logic is sound, the motivation is valid, and it is understandable.

Actually, I am a very optimistic person. I believe that the essence of the world is gray, but the future is bright. I believe that interests control the situation, but the light of ideals shines through.

The last few chapters of this book really hurt me.

It takes about four hours to write two thousand words, which has led me to write every night, and then to write all night long. If I don't sleep well, I get headaches. I write for a while and then cry for a while, and after crying, my headache gets even worse. But it's okay, I'll take painkillers.

As a writer, I am keenly aware of the importance of the brain, so I now drink a calming and brain-boosting tonic every day.

Hoping for an IQ increase of 1

Ye Xiaozhou, Shen Anzhi, and Zhu Wuyao are the three characters I created at the very beginning of this book.

The book's premise is that after a living being dies, its spirit disperses to the heavens and earth. Shen Anzhi's ultimate move is "Yellow Springs Guide." That's right, the reason for this ultimate move is to pave a way for the protagonist to survive. Although it's a bit despicable, what else can be done? Let her live with guilt as punishment.

I thought that since this book has such a dark tone, there must be a glimmer of light, so Ji Yuezhang came into being. For Zhu Wuyao, she is the symbol of all that is good.

I don't like people who are perfect; it's boring. I thought about giving her some flaws, but then I gave up. For the same reason, I can't stand her being scolded.

Xu San'er and Hua Yingting serve as a "buffer," meaning that if the plot is insufficient, their characters' settings are improved; if the plot is sufficient, they remain as they are now.

So Xu San'er's dice game wasn't completed, Hua Yingting's Buddhist sect side story was cut, the cause and effect between a certain senior sister in Zhaixing Tower and Zhu Wuyao wasn't explained, and the plot in Zhongling City was cut. Perhaps you didn't realize it, but I did miss it a bit.

Although Ye Xiaozhou wrote well, it was not perfect.

Once those conditions were laid out, this kind of thing, which was kept in the dark, could be guessed almost immediately by Ye Xiaozhou's appearance. That's why I didn't dare to mention her too much afterward.

I wish you well without being invited.

This name represents the guilt I felt towards her when I first started writing this.

I forced her into the world of cultivation and wrote this story, making her do wrong things and triggering the plot; she bore the parts that I couldn't reconcile with myself and didn't want to face, and her journey was my salvation.

So—may she never have another invitation she can't refuse.

And please don't ever see me again.

So give her her freedom.

If its arrival is inevitable, it's like a weed that can survive anywhere; even if it's not glamorous, it will still fight its best to live.

My wish is for all my friends: although we have no choice in being born, since we're already here, let's keep moving forward.

Even the dead retain some warmth; the living should strive for a more positive outlook.