Chu Ge knew perfectly well the thing would fry her brain, and he had tossed it over for her to look at anyway — with, admittedly, a faint undertone of payback and plain mischievous spite. Did she really take yours truly for some spineless simp?
Then again, getting all of that out in the open felt a lot better — it had also helped him sort out, for himself, just what he and she were to each other.
Lusting after her, sure, but that didn't make him a simp. Either way, they had laid the whole situation out plainly, and now things could take their natural course. She had messed him up so thoroughly that he no longer even knew whether the book should flop and die, and on top of that he was housing her for no clear reason and still getting hit by her. He wasn't brain-dead.
If I'm going to die, I'll die with my dick to the sky! Go ahead and cut me down, if you've got the guts — then we'll see whether that world of yours still exists.
Chu Ge went off to write in high spirits, feeling as though even his ideas were flowing more smoothly.
Outside, Qiu Wuji's hand was trembling as she held the phone. Her worldview had indeed taken a severe blow — almost as severe as the shock of discovering her world was written by someone else.
Young women parading openly down the street with bare white arms and long legs — fine, she could let that pass; even the demon sect's enchantresses dressed like that.
The TV brazenly showing a sex scene, two people devouring each other — that too she could let slide; no actual deed was performed, after all, and everything below the neck was still covered.
But this?
Only three spots covered — her entire body is on display! And you twist and pose for others to see, as if afraid they won't get a clear enough look!
Qiu Wuji's world did have its "inner protection" — bandeaus, chest binders, dudou, and the rest of it; thanks to a certain Creator God's kinks, those had been described with particular care, down to the pattern embroidered on a dudou. But none of it was ever worn on the outside for others to see!
And from the way Chu Ge talked about it, this is supposed to be perfectly normal!
What kind of world is this? No wonder a grown man writes this stuff — turns out he's seen plenty of it!
He's not hoping to coax me into dressing like that for him, is he?
Killing intent rose in Qiu Wuji's eyes, then swiftly died away. He had said it up front... "Some things I say may make you feel terribly awkward, but they're completely normal."
Like hell anyone would call that normal!
But...
Qiu Wuji glanced at Chu Ge's back as he typed, and sighed softly.
He had a point... Had she been taking him a little too much for granted?
The communal style of his lodgings, the plain furnishings inside, the way he worked so diligently at his writing just to put food on the table — it was obvious he wasn't well off; supporting even himself might be a strain. And now, out of nowhere, an extra person to feed...
At least by Qiu Wuji's reckoning, lodging cost money, and so did food. How could she sit here enjoying his things as if it were her due?
The less I want him getting ideas about me, the more I need to stand on my own — isn't that right?
Qiu Wuji thought it over, then finally walked into the room and said, standing behind Chu Ge, "I'll pay you for room and board."
Chu Ge was looking at his document, mulling over the plot, and answered without turning his head: "I've seen you change clothes — is that an illusion, or do you have a storage ring bound to your divine soul that you brought out with you? If it's the latter, be careful how you move things around. Don't go messing with treasures and the like; bringing out some ordinary gold and silver to exchange for cash might be all right, but keep the amount small. Stay low-key."
Qiu Wuji was silent for a moment. "I have no object bound to my divine soul... I probably can't bring anything out. My clothes and my sword are both illusions."
Chu Ge turned back in surprise. "Then what are you going to pay for room and board with? Conjure up a piece of gold and swindle someone? Or get a job?"
Qiu Wuji said with a straight face, "Robbing the rich to help the..."
"Don't. In this world that's a crime... oh, it's a crime in your world too, come to think of it — only over there you stood above the law, and here you'd be a walking five-hundred-thousand bounty."
Qiu Wuji was speechless.
Chu Ge rubbed his chin. "How about you livestream a sword dance? Guaranteed to blow up."
"Livestream?"
"Mm. It's street performance, just through a different medium — people can watch from home. Like watching TV, except it's live."
Qiu Wuji's face was blank. "Then you may need to patch something in: Qiu Wuji takes a hammer to the forehead. That doesn't fit your so-called logic, so I doubt it would even take effect."
Chu Ge froze for a moment.
Right. The Qiu Wuji he had written was proud and lofty to a fault — how could she possibly go perform tricks for an audience?
And a proper job was out of the question too — she didn't even have an ID card, so what was she going to apply for? Even livestreaming required an ID; even opening a book on Qidian and spewing nonsense required an ID and a bank card...
No matter how he turned it over, robbery seemed to be the only option left.
A top-tier cultivator of her generation, and for the moment she had no idea how to make a living in a modern city.
Chu Ge hesitated. "Actually, you could write web novels like me. Worst case, we run a second book under my ID and bank card — only the income goes straight into my card. Whether you'd be willing, I can't say."
"An ID card... something like a travel pass, or a sect's identity token?"
"Exactly. Just like in your sect: without an identity token you can't take a single step; you have to swipe it to use the teleportation formations between peaks, and you even need the thing to pick up a daily task at the Affairs Hall. What happens if you don't have one, you know better than I do. It's much the same here. As long as you only deal with me, it's no problem, but the moment you need to deal with the outside world, you won't be able to do a single thing."
"What if I conjure one? Or take one?"
"...Could you do that with your sect's identity token?"
Qiu Wuji was silent for a moment. "If I learn to write like you and the money goes into your card, that doesn't really matter... I don't need money. The whole point was just to cover the cost of my food and lodging, so that my conscience would be clear. But the problem is..."
She paused. "If I write, will there be money?"
Chu Ge froze again.
If I write, will there be money?
Zhang Qiren's empty room stood there, a bare mockery of him.
Even he himself didn't know when he might have to roll up his bedding, quit the business, and go work in a factory. Qiu Wuji was a cultivation prodigy; that didn't make her a born storyteller. Quite the opposite — orthodox in her thinking, stern and austere, contemptuous of falsehoods. People like that were usually rather bad at making things up.
Unless he patched something in again: Oh, actually Qiu Wuji is great at making up stories.
However he looked at it, it felt weird.
As if guessing what he was thinking, Qiu Wuji said flatly, "I don't need you forcing more abilities on me... Qiu Wuji has ranged across the world; I refuse to believe I can't find some way to make money and survive. It's merely that I haven't thought of one yet."
Chu Ge nodded. "Mm, I believe that... Then let's take our time looking. I'll help you think it through."
Qiu Wuji looked at him for a good while, then asked suddenly, "Why are you so eager to help me find a way to make money? Is it so I'll be subsidizing my own expenses?"
Chu Ge said calmly, "That's one reason. I won't deny I'm not well off — I can't afford to support another person. There are two more. Want to hear them?"
"Do tell."
"To let you know that I'm not obliged to simp for you for free. Unless you go back into the book, the moment you want to live here long-term, you have to put in your own effort. That's the second."
Qiu Wuji restrained herself from asking what this word "simp" of his meant — it sounded truly grating — but from the way he used it, he didn't seem to mean actually licking anyone. So she asked, "And the third?"
"The third... A Qiu Wuji who can live independently in this world — that's the Qiu Wuji who has truly broken free of existing in a book." Chu Ge drew a deep breath. "I told you, this is the Dao I seek. Maybe you think I'm just saying something pretty, but it's the truth."
Qiu Wuji stared at him fixedly, and suddenly smiled.
In spite of himself, Chu Ge's heart skipped a beat again.
He had forgotten whether he had ever seen her smile before. Perhaps a cold sneer, or that not-quite-a-smile of hers?
This seemed to be the first real smile — like ice thawing and snow melting, like flowers bursting open, fragrance filling the whole room. She was so radiant she didn't seem to belong to this world at all.
Then Qiu Wuji said softly, "Take me to buy a set of clothes for this world... consider it a loan."
Looking at her smile, Chu Ge knew that what had really been stirred up in Qiu Wuji was her pride — her drive to "conquer the problem of living" and to "blend into this world."
Why shouldn't I be able to survive on my own in this world, without hiding it?
Why should I live under someone else's roof, eating his food and sleeping in his house?
The Creator God thinks I have to break free of the book and blend into this world before I can be a real person, that that is his Dao. Is that so hard? Of course I can.