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April 7 - April 11, 2023
Why was Su Xiyan acting like one of those wealthy young masters in plays, with their distinguished statuses and heaps of money? Why was Tianlang-Jun acting like one of those pampered young ladies, who had run away from home and was ignorant of the world? And why was Zhuzhi-Lang acting like the prudent servant girl accompanying that lady, running errands and doing odd jobs?
Zhuzhi-Lang had attempted to alert his lord to this reversal of roles, to tell him that he needed to retrieve his dignity as the highest ruler of the demon realm, but Tianlang-Jun seemed to find pleasure in this sugar daddy, sugar baby relationship.
she took them to see various rare and wonderful things, and to all manner of interesting and intriguing places. Forbidden codices Zhuzhi-Lang couldn’t find no matter how he tried, a wondrous spirit mushroom within a certain hidden cave, a dew lake with waters that shone like crystal, an obscure, yet marvelously skilled, pipa-playing prostitute.
Because half his blood came from the serpent race, Zhuzhi-Lang possessed a kind of natural animal instinct. He faintly sensed that this person who kept approaching them was an exceedingly dangerous entity. She wasn’t like demon women, with their enchanting, by the book charm. Instead, she was solemn and driven, though she gave off the impression of being refined and courteous.
Beneath the refined surface lay arrogance and indifference, along with an ambition that further concealed her scheming.
Yet Tianlang-Jun wasn’t remotely concerned. Once he became infatuated with something, he disregarded even life and death as he threw all his eggs into that one basket. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the truth, he just nonetheless never showed any doubt. The price of never doubting her was to be sealed beneath the sunless, skyless darkness of Bai Lu Mountain for more than ten years, with no chance of return.
Covered in blood, he’d been sealed beneath seventy-two metal chains and forty-nine potent paper talismans, forced to watch every day as his body slowly rotted and began to stink, all while his mind remained perfectly clear, unable to lose consciousness even if he wished to.
When something makes you sad, when something brings you pain, why continue to force yourself to do it? The only thing he could do was to persistently, day after day, use leaves to carry the Dew Lake’s water and bring it drop by drop to clean Tianlang-Jun’s eternally unhealing wounds.
In all those years, they never learned of Luo Binghe’s existence. Furthermore, Su Xiyan didn’t succeed to her position of power as expected. Instead, she silently vanished to somewhere unknown. Even long after they’d once more greeted the sun and sky, they still hadn’t learned. Therefore, when Zhuzhi-Lang saw that face for the first time at the southern border, he was so shocked that he forgot to complete the business he’d been tasked with. After a bout of fighting, he went straight back and reported it to Tianlang-Jun.
In truth, both of them knew that Luo Binghe’s tendency to be attached to and dependent on others, and his utter lack of reservations in his obstinate infatuation, were more like Tianlang-Jun.
Tianlang-Jun leaned his cheek on one hand as he watched the closed-eyed Shen Qingqiu and sighed. “But he’s far more fortunate than I am.” The person who Luo Binghe refused to let go of was someone like Shen Qingqiu. That was indeed a fortunate thing. At least Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t summon the entire cultivation world to seal Luo Binghe beneath Cang Qiong Mountain.
“How about it?” asked Tianlang-Jun. “Do you want to steal that fortune for yourself?” Zhuzhi-Lang stared at Tianlang-Jun for a long time before understanding what he meant. Then he blushed a bright red. “My lord!”
Zhuzhi-Lang patiently bore with him. “My lord…if you hadn’t asked me to find all those books, or told me to read them with you, or recited them aloud to force me to review them, this subordinate’s face definitely wouldn’t have turned red.”
From the day he emerged from beneath Bai Lu Mountain to the sun and sky, Tianlang-Jun hadn’t planned to use his new body for long, nor had he had any plans regarding the future. But when he saw Shen Qingqiu, Tianlang-Jun had actually felt a kind of relief. He’d thought, Finally, someone to whom I can entrust my foolish nephew.
“Between me and Luo Binghe. Who will win and who will lose?” After a long silence, he said languidly, “Even if you don’t say it, I know. I’m plainly going to lose.” Zhuzhi-Lang bit off the thread and tied a knot. “After today, how about you follow Peak Lord Shen?” Tianlang-Jun asked, sincere yet not. “He’s already taking care of Luo Binghe; taking care of you as well shouldn’t be too different.” “My lord should sleep,” said Zhuzhi-Lang.
Tianlang-Jun had said, “But why is loving a person such a difficult thing?”
It truly is difficult, it thought. But no matter how difficult, it’s less difficult than making one’s heart stop loving.
That extreme speed and perseverance as he updated ten thousand words a day, every day, for three years straight! Those periodic burst releases of eight whole chapters! A daring so bold it could engulf the whole country! To the authors following the same road up from the streets where they had openly prostrated themselves, he was a legend.
Those harem plotlines whose integrity had been fed to the dogs, as well as those story lines whose intellectual depth had also been fed to the dogs—they were the defining characteristics of his style, and they were enthusiastically discussed by his thousands of readers.
Wait, the MC just spends all day eating, sleeping, and collecting girls, and you have the fucking gall to tell me that this is a cultivation novel?
I’ve never seen villains with a lower IQ than the ones in this book; they’re a prime example of “cannon fodder with an IQ of 40 and a protagonist with an IQ of 60.” It’s like the author went on a 24-hour revenge orgasm
are stupid sexy lamps, and the male lead doesn’t even bed Liu Mingyan, the only breath of fresh air? He doesn’t bed the rightful empress?
I won’t say more on that. The most interesting things in PIDW are actually the monsters of the Demon Realm; it’d be better
personality in the lot. And the writing is incomparably atrocious; every time a woman appears, it’s all “soft bosoms trembling.”
At least the portrayal of the male lead was all right. The transformation from innocent and upstanding to hateful and sinister was detailed and natural; debts of kindness and grudges were both repaid, and those who should have been killed were mercilessly cut down. Every time I see a useless male lead, I just want to slap him in the face. Bing-ge deserves that “ge”—he’s cool enough and darkened enough. I like him! Shen Qingqiu, though, that bastard
#10 Cang Qiong Mountain Stair-Cleaning Manager: *whispering, silently floating by* Does anyone here like Sect Leader Yue? I like the
Cucumber-bro up there wrote how many words just to hate
#15 Cang Qiong Mountain Gate Guard Platoon: >>>To answer #10: *whispering, silently passing by* Does anyone here like Sect Leader Yue? I like the gentle top type the most. Grabbing the sister up there! You’re a sister, right?! I like Zhangmen-shixiong too! I like him a lot! ☆\\(￣▽￣)/★ Is there anything more moe than pampering and indulging, etc. with no bottom line?! ( ́இ皿இ`) It’s a pity the target was such a disastrous shidi; the bad end was so complete, I couldn’t even sell people on the ship…
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#18 Peerless Cucumber【Expert】: Upthread, keep cool. This forum has a lot of Green JJ sisters 5535756846
I wrote some Bing-ge x scum!Shen slash _(:з)∠)_ Don’t know if anyone wants to see. Signing up for a rarepair is like going to the North Pole, so painful. Looking for ships in a Zhongdian novel is also seeking death.
#25 Occasionally Filling Holes: Airplane really doesn’t know how to write romance plotlines; it’d be better if he just didn’t. I feel like Luo Binghe doesn’t have feelings for a single one of his wives—he just wants to use them. And I can’t see how any of these women have really fallen in love with him.
#28 Overtaken by Longing, Mistaking Red for Green: But I feel like I can see which peak lord has really fallen in love with which other peak lord (delusional)… But speaking seriously, the same-sex interactions he wrote between brothers and comrades were all much more detailed and natural than Bing-ge’s scenes with his wives. That deep emotion was practically visible to the naked eye. Airplane really is a natural fudanshi.
His eyes automatically highlighted that familiar ID “Peerless Cucumber.” Vicious sniping that flowed like a running stream; a cucumber forged of iron. Even though this famous Lord Cucumber spewed criticism constantly and without end in “Great Master” Airplane’s comments sections, his subscription payments and demands for updates never waned. Because of this, “Great Master” Airplane had come to suspect that this person was a masochist.
This guy was just like a woman married to a disappointing husband; she itched to jump on his back to grab and shake him by the neck, filled with love and hate as she simultaneously kissed and spat on him. Peerless Cucumber was locked in precisely this type of conundrum, unable to extricate himself from following this novel while he cursed, “Why can’t I control this damn hand that just keeps clicking on the READ button?!”
Indeed, “Great Master” Airplane could now be referred to as Shang Qinghua. That wretched reprobate from the stallion novel he had written with his own two hands, that treacherous spy who toiled assiduously for Mobei-Jun all his life, only to be thrown aside by his coldhearted and unfeeling boss as soon as he lived out his use. That cannon fodder, that logistics guy—that Shang Qinghua.
An Ding Peak was, in itself, a very stifling sort of peak. The peak lord was like the director of a housekeeping-services department: stifling. Even when leading disciples, he was like an unpaid hourly worker: also stifling. The outer disciples didn’t even bear mentioning. They were at the very lowest end of the food chain, the most stifling of the stifling. Everyone had huge reserves of pent-up anger.
If he relied on all the research he had done to write a transmigration stallion novel in his past life—such as how to create soap, glass, the abacus, etc.—he believed he could live freely and easily, ha ha ha ha ha!
In the end, Shang Qinghua had only himself to blame. Damn it—why had he written a low-fantasy setting where all the hard labor had to be done by hand? He’d only managed to screw himself over.
But when you had to act as a porter for Qing Jing Peak—what was up with that? Every time they made a purchase, it was hundreds and hundreds of kilograms of books. Then they would make An Ding Peak’s people huff and puff their way down the mountain to fetch them, then huff and puff their way back up to the peak. Meanwhile, they’d be living the high life—their butts stuck to their seats and their fingers stuck to their instruments. They’d just sit and wait for the goods to be delivered to their door.
Shang Qinghua kept his silence, choking down his words. Ay! How I long to gossip—how I yearn to take up the backstory I outlined but ended up killing in the cradle to toss it in your face! No one’s got a clearer sense of those old affairs of years long past than this great master, your omnipotent creator!
【 Upcoming mission; be prepared. 】 When Shang Qinghua heard this, his face creased like a chrysanthemum. He smiled obsequiously. “System-dage, aren’t you skimping a bit, being so brief with these messages? Couldn’t you tell me what mission this is? What preparations? Prepare for what? At least give me a tip, okay?” 【 You will see, 】 the System said vaguely. Shang Qinghua was silent. No, this esteemed one sees nothing!
A shadow draped in a black cloak slowly walked toward them, straight and tall. One could vaguely make out the figure of a youth. For once, the System said a few more words: 【 Current opponent’s anger points: 1,000. 】 【 Mission objective: Survive. 】 【 Tip complete. We wish you the best of luck. 】 “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had a bad habit. That was, he cut plot points.
Before he officially set pen to paper on future chapters, he would first plant little sprouts in his novel. Then he would watch how the winds were blowing in the comments section. Using this information, he would decide which plotlines to follow from his overall outline.
However, this world automatically filled in the parts that had been cut. Therefore, “Great Master” Airplane had categorically lost the authorial advantage of foreknowledge. Therefore, whenever the plot began to develop, he was always a good few beats late before he caught on to what was going on.
Mobei-Jun was clearly in an extraordinarily bad mood. He didn’t even let the cannon fodder finish their traditional opening monologues before his knuckles cracked. A storm of icy arrows swept through the air, and heads slammed to the ground one by one. One side of Shang Qinghua’s mind shrieked while the other howled: So scary! But also so cool! Really fucking cool!
Mobei-Jun sneered, an ice-cold glint of blue flashing through his eyes. No sooner said than done, Shang Qinghua threw himself forward to cling to his thighs with a plop. Every one of his shixiong made an aggrieved face. Mobei-Jun made a blank one. Shang Qinghua fell to one knee. “My king, please let me follow you for the rest of my life!”
He started to chatter incessantly, “My king, please accept me. I’m very useful!” Mobei-Jun seemed to cant his body. “Oh? What use are you?” “I can serve tea, carry water, wash clothes, fold blankets…wait, no.” Shang Qinghua considerately gave him an analysis: “You see, my king, I can serve you as an undercover agent in Cang Qiong Mountain, pass on intelligence, and help the demon race accomplish the magnificent feat of conquering the Human Realm.”
So coquettish and cultured. It was Huan Hua Palace’s Ling Hua Dart, all right! This weapon was one of the nonsense details “Great Master” Airplane had cooked up on the fly while writing. The body of the dart was light and thin and coated with a bit of anesthetic, so it was very difficult for its targets to discover the object once it breached their body. If they moved too much, the dart would magnificently “blossom,” growing six sharp flower petals to slice up the victim’s internal organs.
It seemed like Mobei-Jun had just killed his way out of a Huan Hua Palace ambush. The Demon Race held their grudges for a long time, and the Mobei clan had held a long-standing animosity toward Huan Hua Palace. That sect would suffer the greatest number of deaths and injuries at the ill-fated Immortal Alliance Conference precisely because Mobei-Jun wished to retaliate against them.
He looked around on the ground for a while before finding a stone about half the size of a skull and hefted it up; it was quite heavy. One, two, three—he got in position above Mobei-Jun’s head, the demon’s eyes still closed. The System offered neither warning hints nor prohibiting alerts.
