In a moment, Xiao Tianjing burst forth from the demon tribe's rear, catching them completely off guard.
Under the watchful eyes of several burly men, Yang Siming forced himself to recall the events that had transpired.
Though not accustomed to writing with a pen, he had previously outlined his ideas, and soon figured out what to write next.
As he wrote, his confidence grew.
From the tone of these burly men, he understood that he could rest after finishing three chapters.
Character by character, the Chinese characters leaped onto the paper.
Under the demons' schemes, the divine race suffered heavy losses. Witnessing the tragic scene of rivers of blood, the Goddess decided to sacrifice herself to restore peace to the Three Realms.
Xiao Tianjing sensed this and unleashed a powerful skill, blasting away the surrounding demons and charging towards the Goddess.
"Okay! Three chapters are done!"
Yang Siming withdrew his hand and stretched his wrist.
Although writing so many words at once made his hand sore, he felt a sense of exhilaration from completing the plot smoothly in one go.
He temporarily forgot about his surroundings.
"Finished so quickly? Amazing, amazing! You've worked hard!"
A burly man beside him flipped through the pages. While the handwriting was a bit messy, the page count was correct.
Seeing the burly man, Yang Siming remembered his predicament, and his body tensed up.
He asked cautiously, "Um, I've finished the three chapters. Can I rest now?"
"Of course, hahahahaha!"
The burly man casually patted his shoulder. "There's extra chicken leg for the next meal. You can move around for now."
Yang Siming breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed that as long as he completed what was required, there would be no issues.
He glanced at the other ghosts still engrossed in writing and felt fortunate.
Fortunately, his writing speed had always been fast, and he rarely encountered writer's block.
He walked around the room, then opened the door to breathe in some fresh air.
Behind him.
After Yang Siming finished writing, the burly men gathered in small groups, reading with great interest.
"The Goddess..."
"I haven't read this type of story before."
Although they hadn't read the preceding plot, as seasoned readers of decades, and in the Underworld where stories were scarce,
They were not picky at all.
They read page after page.
"The battle between gods and demons, wow, that skill is so powerful!"
"Xiao Tianjing is awesome! He actually infiltrated the enemy undetected!"
"Huh? The Goddess is going to sacrifice herself for the Three Realms?!"
The burly men instinctively flipped to the next page, only to find that there was nothing more.
The plot was stuck right there.
For a moment, they felt an unbearable itch, like a cat scratching.
Did the Goddess make the sacrifice? Did she die?
If she sacrificed herself, would the demons suddenly interfere?
What would happen to the Three Realms then?
"Where there's a will, there's a way."
They immediately found Yang Siming, who was curiously peeking out from the doorway.
"Author, is this Xiao Tianjing the male protagonist?"
Yang Siming, who was stretching, froze and nodded stiffly.
The burly men circled Yang Siming a few times.
They wanted to ask about the Goddess's fate, but they had to adhere to the rule of no spoilers.
Because,
Knowing the plot in advance, while exhilarating, would make reading later chapters dull and tasteless.
This was a major taboo for them, who were starved for stories.
Yang Siming looked at the burly men around him, feeling bewildered.
Why were they circling him?
His hands, raised for stretching, remained in the air, not daring to move.
After circling a couple more times, the burly men couldn't help but speak up:
"Author, writing must be tiring, right? Let us give you a massage."
"I..."
Before Yang Siming could refuse,
The burly men leaned in and extended their rough hands.
Just as Yang Siming thought his neck would be twisted, a pair of hands were placed on his shoulders, waist, and legs.
They actually started massaging him.
"?!"
Yang Siming's eyes widened in disbelief.
"This place doesn't seem so terrifying after all."
"As long as I write well, I get delicious food and massage services."
"Perhaps these burly men only look fierce, but they're actually quite nice?"
"Hehehehe..."
"Author, is it comfortable?"
"Mmm, mmm!"
"If it's comfortable, shall we continue writing?!"
"Mmm, mmm... Huh???"
After nodding, Yang Siming only then realized what they had said.
The next second, he was lifted by the burly men.
And carried towards the Shu Mo Zhai.
"???"
"What's going on?"
"Didn't I just finish three chapters?"
"It's only been less than ten minutes, right?"
"We're going to start writing again?"
Looking at the pen and paper thrust into his hands, Yang Siming was stunned.
He looked at the burly man beside him with a bewildered and helpless expression.
The burly man gave him a big smile.
Then, just like ten minutes ago, holding a wolf-tooth club, he looked at him kindly.
"Keep it up, Author! We're all waiting for your updates~"
Yang Siming:
"This... this is a devil, isn't it?"
"If this continues, won't my hands really be ruined?"
"Is this how they rush updates in the Underworld?"
He tremblingly picked up the ballpoint pen, sniffing.
He reminisced about the time he was writing in the human world and was rushed by readers.
Back then, readers would threaten or entice him, act cute, or repeatedly tag him.
But that was all through the screen!
Not like now...
They directly carried him into the room, sat him down, and guarded him with wolf-tooth clubs while he updated.
The pen in his hand landed on the paper, and character by character, they constructed fantastical scenes.
After a period of effort, three chapters totaling six thousand words were produced again.
This time, before he could say anything, a burly man beside him reached out and took the pages filled with words.
"Author, you've worked hard!"
"N-no, it's not hard..."
This time, Yang Siming deliberately wrote a little more.
He didn't stop abruptly or leave a cliffhanger at the end.
As the burly men read with relish, Yang Siming noticed that others in the room had also finished.
And were walking towards the door.
He quickly followed, but once outside the door, the people were gone.
Yang Siming's heart began to race.
"This..."
"Can I...?"
"Don't think about it. It's useless." A voice sounded beside him.
Only then did Yang Siming realize that the person hadn't escaped but was crouching by the right side of the main door.
He also crouched down and asked softly:
"Why? You know what I'm thinking?"
Looking closer, he noticed that the person in front of him had sunken cheeks,
Drooping eyelids, and a numb expression.
It was the kind of expression and state found in people in big cities who had become numb to the hardships of life.
"My name is Xu Asan, what's yours?" the other person asked.
"My name is Yang Siming."
Xu Asan glanced at him, then looked ahead. "I know what you're thinking."
"I've been writing here for decades. Everyone in this profession has thought what you're thinking. You can't escape."
"Every time someone runs out, they're brought back by the burly men and readers."
He pointed behind him at the Shu Mo Zhai. "There are still many authors who haven't finished writing."
"You think we're writing too slowly? No."
Xu Asan sighed. "It's that we don't have many new stories left."
"In the Underworld, writing books can also earn income."
"Whether it's food, props, or冥币 (underworld currency),"
"Anything useful can be traded."
"So, although everyone was resistant at first."
"Later on, to ensure stable updates and a stable income,"
"They gradually accepted it."
"It's just that they've been writing stories for too long."
"And the ghosts here have read too many cliché stories."
"But here, stories are still in short supply."
"Because, after becoming ghosts,"
"Sleep is not a necessity, and readers can finish new chapters very quickly."
"And in these long and lonely years, everyone needs this seasoning."
"Your story should be quite novel. They like it very much. Would you consider staying?" Xu Asan said.