It's so painful! So hard! So difficult!

Chapter 1055 Too Dazzling

"I once advised you not to push too hard. I wanted to stay by your side longer, simply hoping you'd leave yourself some wiggle room. Besides, I don't want to see you get hurt. Even more, I don't want to see you, having achieved everything, yet losing your humanity, becoming like a machine in the distant future."

"I...I can't—"

Just as Bai Lin was about to retort, Katie held her hand, completely ignoring her resistance, which she herself couldn't believe, and said directly,

"I don't care whether you can save the world or not, Bai Lin, but I care about you. If I had known that it would be so precious to you, I would never have spent all my school life here. Even if I could listen to you talk more, or share some of your burdens, it would be better than letting you go to the trouble of lying to me."

"Love isn't like this, dear. I can't be happy this way, because I know you're suffering from trauma over and over again, but I can't do anything about it. I'm even adding to your burden. If I love you, how can I be happy?"

This was the first time Katie was so excited in front of Bai Lin. Her speech speed became faster and faster, and her usual peace had already shattered into pieces, because the world in front of her was no longer the world she could face with a subtle sense of distance, but the lover she truly loved.

"I've told you, I don't blame you. It's my fault for not realizing it sooner. I wasn't able to be the safe haven you could turn to for help when you were heartbroken. I only warned you with words. What's the difference between that and just saying I love you without taking action?"

Facing the silent Bai Lin, Katie did not feel the slightest bit of indifference. Instead, she moved a little closer to him. Behind her, she stretched out her other hand and embraced him.

"I'm stupid too, Bai Lin... It's only now that I realize how much I love you."

"Thank you for your hard work over the past few years. From now on, let's get to know each other again, how about that? I will never leave you again, forever. No matter what you have to go through, I will always be with you. Just like the words -"

"In sickness or health, in wealth or poverty."

Katie's voice surged like a heat wave, the morning light unable to withstand her warmth. She leaned over to Bai Lin's shoulder, her words demanding she become his support.

Because love is essentially this. It's not about one person giving, but rather a form of possession. It's not just about the other person's strength and beauty, but also their sorrow and pain, which must be completely possessed. There are countless ways to express love; it doesn't need to be fancy, but it must be genuine. But often, that genuine feeling, the one that requires breaking bones together with the other, is the hardest to find.

Katie realized this firsthand, and expressed it fully. The intoxicating spring breeze, the green grass—nothing more intense, no more warm, no more beautiful, but also the eternal normality between them. More like the sun rising every day, ordinary, yet incredibly important.

This is the love between the two.

Looking at the girl beside her, Bai Lin hadn't said a word since the beginning. It wasn't that she didn't know how to respond to her feelings, but she was also thinking. Gradually, she instinctively turned her eyes away.

So dazzling.

Although the words were mediocre, Katie's love was too dazzling. Bai Lin could clearly feel that she had even put herself above everything else. Whether she was saving the world or destroying it, Katie would choose the side she chose without hesitation.

But that wasn't the case with him. As Katie had said, he not only loved her, but also the world. Bai Lin couldn't compare the two in weight, which was unfair to Katie, who loved him wholeheartedly.

What's more, when Bai Lin thought about the possibility of losing the other person, and the thought of a girl like her having to bear the responsibility imposed on her inexplicably just because she liked him, he felt an increasingly strong emotion.

I am not worthy of her.

This wasn't a mismatch between them, but rather a problem with himself, at least that's what Bai Lin thought. Rather than dragging the other person into this, it would be better for him to complete this task alone.

Thinking of this, Bai Lin closed her eyes, and soon, some hesitant and cold words flowed out of her mouth.

"Katie..."

"what happened?"

"You may not know everything. In fact, besides these things, I have lied to you about many other things."

Bai Lin organized her words as steadily as possible. She had already woven a complete and true reason for her decision to act alone.

"I came from another world. There, I was a loser who had given up long ago. I was a waste, not a hero, not even a healthy person."

"I'm not a good person. I just won your favor by hiding things. I, I actually even have a girlfriend. And I don't look like this. Even my real gender is not--"

Opening the wound, revealing the truth. Bai Lin threw out all her words, devaluing herself. She was determined to sever this relationship and not let the other party be implicated.

Even if she would be sad for a while, it was normal for girls of her age to be hurt by love. This was much better than following me and dying suddenly one day.

Bai Lin looked at Katie. She hadn't finished what she was saying, but that was enough. She waited for her response, feeling anxious and sad, and her throat was choking with sobs.

Are you really ready?

Having lost so much, can you bear to lose more? ... It is precisely because you have lost so much that you may not think this loss is a big deal.

Then, Katie's calm expression finally changed slightly. However, it wasn't surprise, sadness, or anger, it was just...

"What's the matter? You don't think I don't know?"

what?

"Since the first time I met you, I already knew everything about you, Bai Lin. But you, who think you know me, actually know very little. I have never been an innocent and simple little girl. At least, before the day you met me, that trait had long been lost."

Katie smiled, a smile with a hint of bitterness. She showed the faint purple light from her fingertips in front of Bai Lin and said,

"I didn't deliberately hide my mind-reading skills from you. I actually told you about it a long time ago."

Chapter 1056 Author's Words

Hello everyone, this is me, and for some reason, I'd like to talk some nonsense with you.

Those who don't want to read it can skip this chapter directly. However, I think that those who can patiently read this book to this point can also read some garbage content, so I haven't organized the language here too much, so please bear with it.

I've been writing this book for over four years now. I took a few breaks in between, but overall, I've been writing it almost constantly, with very few interruptions. When I first stopped writing, I'd explain the reasons in the chapters before and after, but since I didn't think many people cared, I just stopped. Anyway, I've been pretty spontaneous about my breaks, but I think I've been pretty diligent.

In short, I would like to thank the audience for the past four years.

If you've read the entire book up to this point, you can clearly see the author's growth. After all, it's been four years, so even someone with limited intelligence wouldn't have failed to make progress.

But I can say this: I gave this book 100% of my heart and soul, but I almost never fully committed to it. Simply put, every day I wrote was pure practice, which is why you sometimes see so many grammatical errors and typos. I wrote when I was feeling down, and I wrote when I was feeling up, so naturally, the quality varied.

All I can guarantee is that I will recapture all the foreshadowing, and that this book will never be abandoned. Please rest assured about this.

Well, since I mentioned growth before, I have to briefly mention the author's current level, and brag a little. This way, today's readers may feel more relaxed when reading it.

My price for private writing is 75r/1k words, and for commercial work, I charge 100r/k upwards without taking any commissions. I'm not well-known in the industry, but I have a good reputation, so I can easily get commissions. I can say that my level of skill is actually quite good.

I bring this up because humans are creatures of impressions. Once you know I'm actually quite impressive, these flop statistics will likely dispel some of the "this author is just a low-brow, nerdy idiot" impression you might have. While the latter notion is likely preconceived, it's still worth discussing.

Or maybe I just want to brag about it to you all. I just want to tell you that it's not shameful to read my book.

The book was pretty terrible early on, as I was still in the early stages of writing it. Fortunately, there weren't any major logical holes.

Back then, I was still a bit naive about writing, unsure how to craft a good story. I'd hoped to listen to others' advice and gradually improve, but I was so caught up in my own scattered thoughts that I ended up being manipulated by their opinions rather than listening. This resulted in my initial work being significantly worse than my current level. It wasn't until midway through writing the second volume that I gradually figured everything out.

If an author wants to create something good, they must first adhere to their true thoughts. Simply reaching readers for the sake of reaching them won't work. This is also close to what I express in my book: believe in yourself.

Of course, this isn't to say that writing content that caters to an audience is bad. Some books are written solely to capitalize on current trends and generate buzz. I think that's fine, and I might even do that in the future, but it certainly won't be in this book. But you need to strike that balance yourself, not just blindly follow rumors. The author still has the final say; you can't blindly follow the crowd; you need to think for yourself.

This book naturally has no commercial value, and I don't plan to sign a contract. I already make too much money writing articles, and if I'm not well-known online, the money I earn from putting so much thought into it just doesn't seem worth it. This book will be purer, a story I want to see, based entirely on my own preferences.

And I feel that I may not be cut out for online writing.

That’s all for now. Now let me tell you why I posted this chapter.

In fact, I've been a little confused lately.

Don't worry, I've already made so many confident statements before, so I'm not really confused about the content of the book. It's just that books are a projection of the author's inner thoughts. If there's something wrong with me, then there will naturally be some problems with this book too.

Our protagonist, Bai Lin, has some experiences similar to the author's, but the personality and other aspects are completely different. The author is not the prototype of Bai Lin, please rest assured. But as I said, the experiences are similar.

The author, a dancer who had studied dance for over a decade, was diagnosed with a knee problem in her first year of high school. A meniscus problem stemmed from a physical education exam that year. Overnight, over a decade of hard work was undone. A knee injury is a death sentence for a dancer. From that moment on, I experienced a period of minor depression, but I quickly made a decision.

I've never really been into dancing. I only learned it because I thought it was good for winning awards and looking pretty. In fact, my house is full of medals and certificates, filling up shelves and cabinets. When I got a little older, I continued to learn it simply because I'd already been doing it for so long, and learning it would be a good skill to make a living.

So after this incident, I decided I didn't need to do this anymore. Pursuing a seemingly cost-effective skill that I had no interest in to earn a living seemed unnecessary. I resolved to devote my all to my passions, to live a free, clean life, and to follow my heart.

Writing novels is exactly what I enjoy. I can type fast, but 2,000 words in half an hour is enough to capture my thoughts almost in sync with my typing. It's like another world exists in my head, and I gaze into it, wandering within it. When I come to my senses, the record I left in the real world has already appeared.

Liu Cixin once wrote in The Three-Body Problem that a true writer doesn't completely control a character's every move, but rather follows them and records their actions. Although you're the creator, you're also an observer. Even when you're not in this world, it continues to move on, and the character has his or her own life. I completely agree with this. And at some point, I discovered I could precisely infiltrate each character. I could respond to any conversation in their voice and see their every action, every reaction.

From that moment on, everything was out of control. From a secular perspective, I was probably sick, maybe a case of chuunibyou or paranoia. But whatever the name, one thing became clear to me:

My own unique world was truly born. I could clearly feel everything in it, right in my mind.

I'm not averse to this, of course. I deeply love this world and the book I wrote. It's not in any way incompatible with the life path I've chosen; it's perfectly aligned. If I had to point out a downside, it's that I'm still living in reality, which makes the contrast with the fantasy world even more painful.

However, even without a fantasy world, life would still be painful most of the time, so I think that's pretty much the same.

But sometimes, problems never arise immediately, but instead occur with one desperate accident after another.

Because of openness, I had an erection twice.

The first time, I suffered from the aftereffects of brain fog. For those unfamiliar, let me briefly explain: it affects thinking and memory. That was the most despairing and difficult time of my life. You can't imagine: as I picked up my phone, turned on my computer, and prepared to write, the ideas I'd created began to disintegrate layer by layer, as if the entire world in my head was collapsing. It was completely unbearable; it practically robbed me of my ability to write.

Under this pressure, I wrote "The Battle Between Dawn and Dusk," a 100,000-word battle of wits. While it didn't meet my expectations, it lived up to my expectations. Overall, I found it acceptable, even if the quality has declined. This proves that even with illness, I can still overcome it.

However, I don't really want to do that. Or rather, I'm too lazy to do that.

The author has always been in poor health. I'm afraid that those online people who create sickly characters are not as sickly as me, but I won't talk about this all the time. I think it's silly to talk about my poor health every day. But this time, Yang gave me some food for thought.

Dancing, something I once practiced as a life skill, was ruined by my illness. Ironically, the following year, physical education was removed from our high school entrance exam. It's pretty disgusting, when you think about it.

My writing has also been disrupted by my illness. Honestly, I'm still recovering from it. After testing positive for the virus, I've been experiencing occasional, inexplicable headaches. A CT scan showed nothing serious, just overwork. But at my age, I can't believe I'm overworked when I haven't really done anything.

The updates you've seen in recent days are all from my backlog. You've also seen the content of Volume 3. I can stitch together a bunch of disparate and unrelated elements to form a logically coherent and competent story, and I can basically come up with one every day. But after Er Yang, my brain has deteriorated to the point where I can't do that anymore. In the days before National Day, I was thinking about a short story for the rest of the story. But I really put it aside for the last few days and haven't written it yet, hehe.

But after all this time, I don't feel like my symptoms have improved much, and I'm really finding it hard to bear. One day, I suddenly understood why villains are so obsessed with "power," crying out, "Oh, my power! It's impossible!" when their power is lost. It's because they've dedicated their lives to pursuing it, and losing it is simply impossible to calm down. For me, the ability to write is that kind of power. Even the natural decline of memory and brain aging is hard for me to accept, let alone a sudden, unprovoked illness like this.

I'm really well protected, alas.

Dancing took me more than ten years. How many more years does an ordinary person have in his life?

It's not that I've given up, I'm just too lazy to fight. Let those who want to overcome their illness do it, I'm not really interested.

I think, just like that, it’s okay to let go of life. I’m tired. I don’t want my body to drag down my books, drag down the world, or drag down the life I want to live.

If the desire to live and the desire to die were a scale, with the desire to live representing the beauty of life and the desire to die representing pain, then writing, for me, is not on the scale but the pole that supports it. Once it begins to crumble, the scale loses its meaning.

So I decided that if the situation got too bad, I would just die. This would be a shame to so many people: my parents, my friends, everyone who loves me. It would be irresponsible, and I understand that. But even though I felt guilty, I would die with that guilt.

Dying because you can't write seems ridiculous, doesn't it? But if you look back at history, many writers have committed suicide for strange reasons. For example, Gu Cheng committed suicide because he couldn't marry two wives at the same time. Such examples abound. I understand this, because it was the pillar that supported his heart.

When writing reaches this obsessive state, lost in fantasy, everyone is inherently fragile. Lao She, suffering from the world, committed suicide. So did Tolstoy, whose desire to express his inner thoughts and escape control was tantamount to suicide. Writers always have their own convictions, perhaps for the greater good of their country or simply because they won't have ice cream tomorrow. It may be a matter of degree for everyone, but for the person involved, it's a complete disaster.

Just like my novel, I don't really care how many people read it or what they think of it. Therefore, I don't care whether others understand me or not. I'm just saying all this to complain. I think it's fine to just treat it as a joke.

Continuing from what I said earlier, I'm a bit lost, and that's precisely why. My outline certainly reached the end long ago, but I'm probably lacking the ability to fill in the gaps. I'm just trying my best. Last May to August was probably my best recent writing, and I haven't quite gotten back to that flow yet. It's not fair to the book, but it's unavoidable; after all, I'm its author.

I originally wanted to just abandon it and die, but now I think I'll probably fulfill my responsibilities as an author and finish it as soon as possible. So my life span has been extended by a few years, so we'll see.

What really confuses me is what to do now. Should I find time to write this, as I always do, or should I completely put aside work and school to focus on it? Or maybe I'm just too tired and overthinking, as I've been doing for over six months now, and I just need some other kind of happiness? More rest? A good relationship? A way to stop thinking about death while being together?

Or perhaps there's another path: truly accept all of this as an illness. I'll try to emulate the "ordinary life" everyone talks about. I'll stop writing about it, stop dwelling on it, and sooner or later, I'll forget about it, I guess.

Of course, I believe I would never go down this path.

I don't know what to do anymore, I don't even know what I really want.

I love this novel, but the reality makes me feel painful because of it, this is the only clear thing.

I'll try my best to keep it updated, but my creative output has dropped significantly, so it might get weirder and weirder, or even stop updating. But again, I'll try my best.

I love everything about this novel, but I can't say I'm particularly drawn to any particular character, especially in terms of romance. After all, I don't even know what I want, and I'm equally unsure what kind of person I'd like. Even a perfect, paper-thin person might not be particularly appealing. Meanwhile, the author is pretty much the same as the male tense description of Bai Lin in the book—quite handsome. I've had a lot of romantic experience, having had more deep conversations with women than Bai Lin.

But to me, they don't seem much different now. I just think this one is cute, that one is pretty good, they're all pretty good, but I can't say I particularly like any of them. It's the same with the female characters in my books: I write them all pretty well, and dating them all seems pretty good, but I can't say I'm particularly fond of any one.

So the love thing doesn't seem to apply to me either. I can't seem to love anyone the way I love a novel, or maybe the person I love doesn't exist in this world, or I can't even imagine them. After all, I don't even know what kind of person I like, so how can I truly love someone so much that I don't want to die?

I am really confused.

Having said all this, to many people, it might seem like I'm just whining about nothing, and that's perfectly normal. Now, let me talk a little bit about the design aspects of the book.

Initially, I thought male characters would be easier to write, since I'm a man myself. But considering the Soul-like genre, even though I'm not into that, I felt it was boring to see a male die, so Bai Lin was gender-swapped. Before this, I didn't know much about gender-swapped characters, and I hadn't really considered the idea of ​​inner transformation.

Gender reassignment is proving to be even more difficult to write, and without it being a compelling concept, this setting would be completely meaningless. But now, I feel like Bai Lin's gender is completely irrelevant; given her current personality, it doesn't really matter whether she's gender reassigned or not. I even considered having her be female, but I can't imagine a woman with her same personality, so I'm leaving it as is for now.

As the author of a book about gender reassignment, I'm truly uninterested in the subject, and I'm truly sorry. I do envy those who have unconditionally transitioned, after all. I like women, and I don't really have a gender identity, so being male or female is fine. But considering my female orientation, handsome men don't really matter to me. So, I think I'd be much happier being a beautiful woman than being a handsome man.

After all, on the one hand, I like myself very much. I can’t say I’m narcissistic, but I love myself. On the other hand, it’s also very pleasing to the eye.

Perhaps for aesthetic reasons, the characters in my books are mostly beautiful girls. I've been criticized for not having any femininity in many of my characters, or even for looking very masculine in some details, but I don't think that's a big deal; it's just my preference.

In the future, this book will have more beautiful girls of various kinds, so please look forward to it.

Having said that, in short, I don't expect anyone to respond. Otherwise, I should have posted a statement about how awesome I am at the very beginning of the book, and changed the title and introduction, which are overly influenced by other people's opinions. I could even revamp the content at the beginning, which would definitely increase the chances of people reading it. For me, sharing some of my own experiences here is no different from writing this novel; they're all just the thoughts that came to my mind.

But what if I'm really a complete idiot and I'm actually facing a very simple problem, and my readers are smart enough to see through it and point it out to me? That would definitely be a good thing. Or maybe some rich guy would just give me a huge sum of money for no apparent reason to solve my problem? Well, anything is possible, right? So if you guys do respond, I'll definitely still read it. It's just that I don't care.

Today's comments might be the first time in a long time that you've actually seen something written and posted today. You'll undoubtedly continue to see delayed content for a long time to come, as I actually have quite a few drafts in reserve. Considering that few people read my novels, if you're interested, feel free to contact me and I'll send you the latest chapters, though I doubt anyone would do that.

I know many people who think sticking with something is difficult, something impressive. They've praised me, or simply out of friendship. But for me, updating even if no one reads is perfectly normal. Because I love this book; it's my passion, and I'll treat it with the same dedication I've decided, even if it's just for practice.

Tonight's complaints will fade tonight, and tomorrow's sun will rise as usual. Anyway, to all readers who have read this far and those who haven't, good morning, good afternoon, and good night. This book will probably take another 2-4 years to write, and it won't be a dead end or abandoned. The author is certainly not an intellectually deficient being, so just read on without worry.

That's about it.

Chapter 1057 Love Review

"Using it to peer into your heart was purely to satisfy my own needs, a self-serving means. No, it should be said that the initial display of dependence and concern was also purely selfish."

Black eyes sank into the past. Those words, though harmless, sounded rather heartless. However, Bai Lin, somewhat stunned, quietly waited for the other person's narration. This seemed to be a page she had never seen before.

"When I first met you, I almost laughed out loud, to be honest. It wasn't just a mockery of the world and the legend of the Son of God, it was also a laugh out of my own pain."