Chapter 85: Thoughts on Going Live, The Stubborn One (Not a Chapter)

  From the author:

  From February 18, when I posted the first chapter, to now—just over a month—I’ve written 200,000 characters. Friends often suggested that I slow down and write fewer words, but I knew my style was quite detailed. If the word t was too low, it would have felt dragged out.

  As for its performa’s been all right. Ever since I got sick, I’ve taken things more lightly. This was also my first xuanhuan novel, so feeling somewhat uneasy erfectly normal. Even so, the book’s reception gave me a bit of hope—at least it hasn’t flopped.

  Readers who know my work are aware that I dislike writing about ordinary people. In fact, I dislike the very cept of “ordinary people.”

  In my view, “ordinary people” is a misleading notion that exists only in our imaginations.

  The existence of this phrase blurs and erases the individuality of every indepe sciousness in this world.

  One by one, people with their own personalities, their own blood esseheir own obsessions and dreams, get stripped of their distinct traits by this term—so easily turned into a uniform, faceless statue devoid of any tangible character.

  I’ve met many people. In my opinion, no two individuals are exactly alike—even if they share the same hobbies, watch the same movie, like the same character, or even have the same quirks. Even those with so mu on are ruly identical.

  Their personalities were different, their sense of humor was different, their speech habits were different, their emotional rhythms moved at different paces, and their color preferences varied—so many differences… far too many to t.

  Everyone was truly distinct.

  I believe anyone aplish something as long as they find what they truly want to do.

  Those who call others “ordinary” are simply tant—sant they refuse to see what makes each person special.

  I loathe and even… fear such “ordinariness.”

  Thus, the characters I create strive to dispy their uraits, revealing how they differ from everyone else and why they deserve to be protagonists.

  Gao yearned for power, embodying the pursuit of higher, faster, and stronger—never ceasing to surpass his own limits. (I think these are MCs of the author’s other novels.)

  Joshua sought bat. He relished fighting, fronted formidable foes as a matter of course, and created miracles without needing any justification.

  Su Zhou sought simple justice. He acted on what he believed was right in his heart. Though he was willful, he was alassionate, walking a path that improved whatever he entered.

  Ian walked the pioneer’s road of eternal exploration. He gazed into the distance, perpetually the stars and the os. Those infinitely distant points of light were his goal. He would op, never waver.

  So then, what kind of trait does An Jing possess?

  He’s a plex individual. No sierm define a human being. I will provide a detailed expnation ter iory, but for now, let me highlight orait I’ve already emphasized at length.

  Stubbornness.

  Stubbornness: headstrong and willful, refusing to heed advice, insisting on one’s own view, urning batil hitting a dead end.

  He is exactly that sort of person.

  A stubborn one.

  He is not a hero, nor a vilin. Not a saint, nor a madman.

  He was someone who barreled forward on the road he believed iroyiher himself or everyone else along the way—a stubborn man through and through.

  I believe many people have gohrough a period of stubbornness in their lives.

  They ignore advice from parents, teachers, friends, elders, superiors, acquaintances, and even strangers, resolutely determio do something or make a particur decision.

  No one hold them back; they simply have to do it, or they will crash and burn trying.

  Until they regret it, until they give up.

  Until they are no loubborn, until they choose to turn back.

  I, too, once rushed headlong into a certain profession and ended up battered and bruised.

  Eventually, I turo writing novels.

  But An Jing is different.

  Once he makes a decision, not even his mother’s pleas stop him. When he decides what’s right , he perseveres and acts on it.

  If he deems the world wrong, he will undoubtedly smash it to pieces and reshape it into his ideal form. Even if tless people—ten thousand or a hundred million—say he’s wrong, he won’t believe it.

  He disregards profit or loss, safety or daime or duration, difficulty or ease.

  He acts simply because he wants to.

  He wao unify the nd under his rule, so he did just that.

  He was like a dump truck that, oarted, could not be stopped—either he would smash himself or smash the world.

  To borrow a reference from older anime culture, An Jing was like an Uchiha.

  In pierms, An Jing had serious issues—he was severely paranoid.

  Such a person would certainly be shattered by reality.

  But so what?

  The true power of a story is that it draws from reality while also transding it.

  Doesn’t the existence of extraordinary power serve precisely to shatter those nearly unbreakable barriers, allowing a seemingly impossible possibility—one many find unimagi intriguing—to take shape?

  That’s the story I wao write: a stubborn man who believes the world is wrong, fighting to smash the old world and fe a new one for humanity.

  Yes. Ohe gifted An Jing gaihe aid of an a Sword Spirit and could jourhrough different realms, he realized his future would lead him down a difficult and exhausting path that few could uand—ohat could reshape this fwed world.

  Along that path, he would also crush—en route—many worthless fools who deserved a thousand cuts.

  “Heh heh! All the races under Heaven ah will surely rejoice at the birth of a giant like me. World, I have e to save you!”

  Aristocratic families/nobles/gentry/the Demonic Sect/the Heavenly Demons: “Er… could we iate a settlement?”

  “Right now? You must be joking.”

  —That was all there was to it, just a simple story.

  I don’t dare hope that everyone will enjoy this story.

  But I do know there will be plenty of readers who like it.

  And I will write it, because I like it too.

  I will do it.

  I will write about a world, under a broad sky ah murky clouds.

  I will write about a youth—a man, a stubborn soul who walks the path of his own dream.

  I will write about a rebellion, battle after battle, shattering cage after cage, and toppling the old ain and again.

  I will write of someone who, through his own power alone… will defeat the entire damned world!

  My friends, I really am an odd, solitary, tradictory, and naive individual. I firmly believe everyone is unique, each with their own stubborhat sets them apart.

  Yet I also believe—believe that among these 8 billion utterly distinct, absolutely not-ordinary human beings in this world, there is a group who will enjoy the same book.

  I write this book for you who are one of a kind.

  I am deeply grateful to all the readers who support this book and to every friend who stands by me.

  I thank you for all the love and trust you’ve shown me.

  Dear readers, I am Yintian Shenyin.

  I am writing a story about a resolute dream.

  (End of "Chapter")