Thoughts on the Release!
Missing for a year.
For the first half of the year, I was recovering from illness. Normally, a facial paralysis heals in about two weeks for most people. However, I drew the short straw.
A few months later, when I went for an electromyography test at the hospital, half of my face still showed no signal. I couldn't fully close my eyes and relied on eye drops daily.
After consulting with the doctor, I was told that if there were no signs of recovery after such a long time, it would be difficult from then on. So, I quickly came to terms with living with facial paralysis for the rest of my life, and I just let it be.
As I let it go, surprisingly, it slowly began to recover. For a while, I had gotten used to having only half my face working. Even when making expressions, I would only use half my face. Every time I realized the other half could move, I would have to catch up, making up for a lag in symmetry. Now, although there are some lingering effects, they don't affect my daily life, and they're hardly noticeable.
In addition to facial paralysis, my body developed many other issues. I used to think youth meant fearlessness and pushed my body to the brink until it collapsed. When you start reminiscing about your youth, it shows youth has left you. When you truly understand the phrase "wish you good health," no longer treating it as a mere formality, it proves you’ve at least once lost it.
During that time, a friend from the same field fell ill. He came to me, and I comforted and encouraged him, telling him to maintain a positive mindset, which he did. From then on, our chats began with a smile. Then, one day, I heard he was gone.
We weren't that close, both being reclusive types. We hadn’t met in person many times. The last time we met, I remember, after finishing our meal, when the waiter came to settle the bill, I took a step back, letting him show himself to pay. Now that I think about it, ah, how awful of me.
Even in his final days, he remained open and positive, but his passing impacted me deeply, coinciding with my own declining health.
It turns out, the one encouraging him to stay optimistic was a coward. I think I might have been depressed during that time. On particularly bad nights, I would wake up with panic attacks, and daily life felt devoid of interest, or I would suddenly become irritable.
Every time I thought of "writing," I felt disgust and fear, a lingering psychological scar from that experience. I seriously considered ending my career.
After half a year of rest, I felt somewhat better and thought about how I never had time before. I stayed inside for months without going out, so I decided to travel a bit for a change of scenery.
I drove along Route 318, then decided on a loop through the northeast on G331. Later, I drove to Hainan and then took another drive up north to WLMQ (Ürümqi) and circled through Northern Xinjiang.
I roamed like an ant across the map of my homeland. Eventually, when there were no new places left to visit, I ironically cursed the ancestors for not conquering more land back then.
The broken bridge on the Yalu River, the magnificence of Changbai Mountain, the boldness of Qilian Mountain, the tranquility of Sayram Lake, the sandstorms of Inner Mongolia... Truly, going out and exploring did wonders.
I had an epiphany, feeling insignificant, or to put it simply, I finally realized I was nothing. Then, the itch to write returned, and I found the urge to tell my stories.
Despite my previous promises to study and improve during the break...
Unfortunately, I must tell everyone, I haven’t made any progress.
As a writer, I haven't read much for years. Not only that, but I’ve also found myself growing more and more out of touch.
In the last chapter, when Liu Yumei mentioned middle-aged people losing the drive to learn new things, she was speaking about me.
I tried to read, and while I could tell many books were excellently written, interesting, and exciting, I couldn’t get into them. New trendy styles weren’t for me.
I was unwilling to push myself to browse bestseller lists, study, and analyze. Rationally, I know as a creator, that’s a slow death; I’m destined to be left behind by the times. But emotions told me to just let things be.
My breakdown taught me that being eliminated by the times or self-destructing could surprise me sooner than expected.
I've known early on that my style doesn't produce bestselling books. I'm best suited for a niche audience.
So this time, I want to write something that genuinely interests me. Nantong is my hometown. I included my local dialect in the book. I realize this might make reading tougher for you, but it’s okay—I’m deeply immersed.
The homes of the characters in the book are actually relatives' homes in my hometown with specific people in mind. Uncle Sanjiang’s family, doing paper offerings business, is where I would often visit as a kid to watch Ultraman with my cousins.
So when Little Lord Yuan and the others were venturing around the village, I watched from the perspective of a god, thinking, "Oh, they're off to visit their 'cloud relatives' again."
Having crossed the threshold of thirty, I've finally reached the point where I can write stories set in past eras.
In truth, I've wanted to write them for a long time, but the timing wasn't right. Not only did I need to wait until I was older, but I needed my readers to age along with me.
Fortunately, we all got older.
Now, we can happily indulge in some nostalgia.
A big driving force for me in writing this book is the sudden memories of old objects from the past, which I then weave into the story. I wait eagerly for readers to comment, sharing their own experiences, saying, "Ah yes, we used to use that back home too."
Of course, there might be some differences in understanding due to geographical factors or the uneven development of rural areas in those days.
For example, I once wrote about a little river behind Li Weihan's house. A reader, who turned out to be from Shaanxi, criticized me, saying, "Aren't you worried the house would be washed away if it was built by the river!"
Such misunderstandings are normal. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe towns could be built on cliffs either. Our country is vast, and the geographic features are incredibly diverse.
Many times, the supernatural elements seem to thread through this book like a line, while the stories and characters are the beads strung upon it.
In my understanding, traditional supernatural tales don't follow a pure power-up path—no breaking barriers to ascend to immortality.
Therefore, this book's pace is deliberately slow, with detailed, even excessive writing, flowing on like a flood, inundating everything with abandon.
When I showed the first draft to my editor, they warned me the slow pace might drive readers away.
I said it's fine; that's intentional.
If you're going to slack off, you need to embrace it wholeheartedly. Those not used to this style might leave early on, but those who endure to reach this point have survived the trials.
Now that I have no high expectations for the book's success, I feel free to choose my readers. It's about finding those who resonate on the same frequency.
With so many people in our country, I'm not some one-in-a-million eccentric. I believe there are people who share my taste, who find interesting what I do.
Once some readers are filtered out, and as the word count grows, those who remain are like-minded friends, allowing for more harmonious and enjoyable interactions, fostering a more comfortable environment.
I must thank my chief editor, Yi Suo, and editor, Zhuzha, for their patience and help, as I've never been an obedient writer.
Also, thanks to Yintian, pp, Duck, Fan, Meow, and Sisi for supporting me when I suddenly decided to publish a book and called on them to help with operations.
And I'm especially grateful to those readers who messaged me over the past year, asking when I'd return, and those who quickly gathered once the book was out.
I've realized I've become increasingly lazy—sentimental words just don't come easily anymore. See, I don't even bother titling each chapter.
Though, it's partly because each chapter is quite long, making titles difficult.
During the entire new book phase, the only author's note I've written is "another chapter before midnight."
Aside from that, I've said nothing, finding it unnecessary. Communicating through the chapters suffices. Adding my own words or gratitude below would just disrupt the reading experience.
Alright, it's time to wrap this up.
The next chapter will be a premium chapter, released at midnight tonight (there might be a slight delay).
Don't accuse me of being lazy and skipping today’s update. The fact is, when I published the book, I only had three chapters saved. From the third day on, I've been writing them on the spot. If I had drafts, I wouldn't have ended up writing updates live, posting later and later each time.
Old readers know my writing habits well.
Additionally, due to some reasons, the schedule for premium release was suddenly moved up.
So, today's update will have to wait for the premium chapter at midnight—if I rush to write tonight's update, I won't have time to prepare the premium content. Management has planned release events, and imagine their surprise if there are no VIP chapters!
In the end, I'm grateful to have your companionship on this journey. Please keep sending comments, brainstorming, for while you may not write long pieces like I do, your creative ideas exceed mine.
And finally, do not worry—hold tight to the dragon!
(This chapter ends here.)