"...So you still don't quite believe me." Hui Bai lowered his eyelids, revealing a sorrowful expression, his eyes filled with wave-like sadness.

If this wasn't acting, Su Ming'an would truly be moved by him. Every time doubt about Hui Bai was expressed, it brought an inexplicable sense of guilt.

"Liujin, you were fished out of the sea and forced to take the place of the Red Tower Princess's destiny, making me feel pity. So I promise you that I will protect you in the Disciple Game, and this promise is still valid now." Hui Bai said:

"You once said you want the hierarchically distinct rules in Luowasha to disappear. You want to become the strongest Creator, allowing everyone to attain eternal happiness. I wholeheartedly agree with your ideals, because I feel the same way... Luowasha has been a hell of oppression for millions of years, and I want to witness the paradise you create."

"I know, as a necessary link in the food chain as a Hunter, I have indeed committed unavoidable acts — the harming of life. This is the fundamental [logic] for our survival."

"—[To survive, you must intake nutrition, and as long as you are alive, you are continuously squeezing others. The upper levels of the food chain oppress the lower levels, extracting the latter's surplus labor value of a lifetime, and the lower levels of the food chain pass malice to even lower levels, oppressing those who serve them, and those who can't pass on malice will vent emotions on distant strangers via the internet.]"

"I hope, with our cooperation... we can fundamentally remove this unending, progressive oppression."

"Liujin. Please trust me..."

Hui Bai placed his palm on his chest in a gesture almost akin to a Luowasha Knight's salute:

"You can only trust me."

Su Ming'an's gaze flickered slightly.

If he had a Favorability, perhaps under Hui Bai's words, his Favorability for Hui Bai would indeed increase. However, due to the Deity being eminent, Su Ming'an found it difficult to trust anyone.

Looking into those earnest blue eyes, Su Ming'an couldn't help but think of Noel... Noel's acting was just as superb.

"I cannot trust you." Su Ming'an remembered the Law of Luowasha—trusting makes the food taste better. It was his initial trust in Lu that led to Lu losing control and striking out.

"Mm, I know... it's okay, as long as you don't doubt me." Hui Bai remained with a genuine expression, and actively retreated to the corner, showing with his actions he wouldn't attack: "Alright, you can read the story first."

Su Ming'an raised his hand, touching the book page.

...

[The story you drew is — "Wingless Paradise Bird."]

[The total number of pages in this story: 30 pages.]

[You are on page: 12.]

...

"Swoosh!"

He opened his eyes, sitting at a redwood table, with a feather pen paused on a piece of draft paper.

Flames crackled in the fireplace, the room filled with a warm, toasted bread scent. Metal pipes extended horizontally and vertically, like icy white serpents, biting the floor's base and the end of ventilation ducts.

...A steam punk style room.

He felt himself reaching out, tearing the draft paper before him, fingers hovering over the fiery fireplace, as if to burn the draft paper.

On the fireplace hung a mirror, allowing Su Ming'an to see his appearance—a cascade of purple hair flowing over his shoulders, eyes like extinguished cold flames.

—It was Sique Olivius.

It seems this "Wingless Paradise Bird" is another work by Sique.

Others found it hard to obtain even a word from Sique's stories, even spending all fortune would not buy a phrase written by this strongest Creator. Yet, Su Ming'an always drew stories written by Sique. The previous story recounted Sique's experience of being divided, what experience of Sique will this story tell?

Su Ming'an's gaze swept over, it was a warm and cozy room. It seemed Sique's current situation was still safe, not yet reduced to the point of being divided. So, this should be before the divide narrative?

"Crackle."

The flames in the fireplace burned vigorously. Su Ming'an saw the indifferent expression, the gloomy look in his mirrored self, which was a very ...displeased expression towards the object in hand, almost disdainful.

"Boring character setup, dry plot progression, pointless verbose foreshadowing..." he heard himself muttering, which was in fact Sique muttering: "Such things are only fit to be burned."

His fingers loosened slightly, the draft paper in his hand floated down into the fire.

...What does Sique want to burn?

No, it can't be burned like this.

Su Ming'an immediately controlled his arm, using the narrative fine-tuning ability of the [King] identity to save the draft paper from falling into the fire.

"...Hmm?" he heard himself make a puzzled sound: "Why would I save this draft paper... strange."

It seems after Su Ming'an fine-tuned the plot, Sique could sense something odd. It's equivalent to... them temporarily sharing one body.

However, Sique didn't discard the draft paper a second time, but rather casually placed it on a nearby cabinet. Taking this opportunity, Su Ming'an glanced at the draft paper to see exactly what Sique had written, that would make him want to burn it so fiercely.

The draft paper was filled with a few paragraphs of text.

...

[Number: Character-0013]

[Identity: Slum Orphan]

[Outline: He has a very caring tailoring sister. Emphasize the kindness and gentleness of this tailoring sister in detail, who desires all children to attain happiness, and frequently brings back some beautiful wildflowers, pins them on the children's clothes, and teaches them to be kind.

Then at the right moment (such as when the sister weaved a new outfit for each child, she showed a happy smile, placing gifts quietly at each child's door...)

Arrange her death.

The death should be beautiful, logical, and touching. It can be the sister being killed by the upper Race while protecting children. Or an absurd, humorous death, like simply colliding with a noble, she is then killed by the knight beside the noble. And it can allow her favorite child to witness the whole process, then insert a flashback recalling all those beautiful moments from the sister's past, contrasting with the scene of the sister's death...

Finally, freeze in a heavy rain, the blood-soaked sister falls to the ground, still clutching the children's clothes. She's showing a rigid smile, seemingly seeing the children growing up wearing the new clothes.

At this juncture, let the character "Character–0013" emerge. He once was the most obedient and well-behaved orphan, decided under the teachings of his kind sister to study hard to become a knight, change the situation of the slums, and let everyone be happy. But after seeing his dead sister, he cried and collapsed beside her corpse, realizing that those aristocrats could easily kill the destitute, would certainly not value a low level knight, and there was nothing he could change. Therefore, his life's turning point starts here.

Amid the crimson rain filled with bloodstains, he placed withered wildflowers on his sister's forehead and kissed her through the petals.

He began to understand that kindness had no meaning. The impoverished cannot find happiness through kindness, and wildflowers will never become roses and tulips.

Ending: From then on, he committed acts of evil his entire life, doing all kinds of wickedness, only to die from the only act of kindness he ever performed.

Self-Evaluation: Boring. Why did I create such a character? Extremely dull, lacking originality, to be burned within an hour.

Additional Self-Evaluation: Can I ever come up with an interesting character design? This trash character design, like a banana peel, irritates me every time I see it.

Further Additional Self-Evaluation: Actually, upon closer inspection, some parts are not too bad.

Final Self-Evaluation: No, the plot is so dry it makes me want to vomit. I can't stand it even for a moment. Burn it immediately!

…

Su Ming'an stared in shock at this piece of draft paper.

These self-evaluations are probably Sique mumbling to himself. Are all artists like this? Sometimes amazed by their own creations, and at other times can't stand them, eager to burn them...

Who would have thought that even the most wise Creator known in Luowasha would have moments of drafting failures and burning them in anger.

But in Su Ming'an's opinion, this draft isn't too bad... at least better than the voiceover of the War God Dragon King, but Sique probably has very high standards.

"... Why am I still looking at this garbage?" Sique's muttering voice came through.

Su Ming'an realized it was his control that was making Sique feel strange. He immediately stopped staring at the draft paper for a long time, giving full control of the body back to Sique.

Sique returned to the mahogany table and, picking up a new blank draft paper, took hold of the feather pen.

After dipping it in ink, the pen tip stayed on the paper surface for a moment, not touching down. Sique silently and fixatedly watched the draft paper until the ink dripped onto the paper, spreading into undefined blots.

"... It seems I can't write anything today." He said softly, "Let me go find the Dragon Emperor and them to search for inspiration..."

Su Ming'an vaguely understood why Sique was hunted by the Dragon Emperor and others—they treated Sique as a true friend, while Sique treated them as a source of inspiration.

However, this was just Su Ming'an's guess—perhaps there were more secrets hidden.

At this opportune moment, he had a slight impulse to give Sique a left hook but considering he was still inside the body, and it was a bit like wounding the enemy a thousand while suffering eight hundred self-inflicted losses, he gave up.

Moments later, Sique finally moved the feather pen; however, this time he did not write about a character or story. Instead, he wrote segments of thought, seemingly casually.

…

Dissipating fantasy from reality, yet you remain bound by experience.

To what extent can characters be said to have free will? Their mere existence has already been painted with my colors. Whether a name, age, or background. Their actions seem out of free will, but some are born with a predetermined demise.

——Why did they fall?

——For what reason do the incessant gaps and sorrows in the world exist?

Yet I am inclined to unearth the joy in this persistence and perceive all things as tributes to this end, collecting the sorrows of all with periods and ellipses.

History is a kind of long-standing, true, epitaph and elegy inscribed onto civilization. I do not dare compare myself to history, only to a contemptible replicator of life, a thief of others' lives, a cruel executioner of discarded wastage.

But at least, words portray their burning ideals and falling passions...before the library collapses into the universe entirely.

Sique, you are truly cruel. You give them hope, and then despair.

If you can't bear it, do not move your feather pen in the first place.

…

Su Ming'an stared blankly at these passages; although he could not quite understand the meaning of these words, he felt that Sique's words indeed held weight.

Sique seemed to sigh. He stopped writing, turned around, picked up the draft paper again, and held it over the fireplace flames.

Firelight flickered in his indifferent golden eyes, hiding unceasing life force within or perhaps eternal stillness. His fingers rubbed the edges of the draft paper, pausing for a moment.

Su Ming'an could intervene again, control Sique not to burn the draft paper, but he did not move. After all, these were Sique's experiences, he need not always interfere.

"..."

But a moment later, Sique withdrew his hand, his eyes still showing disdain, but ultimately he did not burn the draft paper.

"Whatever, even if it's a discarded draft, I might as well keep it... just stash it in a corner out of sight."

Carelessly folding the draft paper into a paper airplane, with a swoosh, he casually tossed it. The paper airplane circled in the air, precisely looping back to above his head, thudding softly as it stabbed into his hair.

His face darkened for a moment, pulling out the paper airplane, tossing it again. This time, the paper airplane finally landed in the corner, quietly staying with a pile of discarded drafts.

It was then that Su Ming'an noticed the room was filled with paper airplanes, paper butterflies, paper birds, paper bananas... scattered under the bed, under the table, by the cabinets... It seemed Sique has more than one such discarded draft, too lazy to sort them, folding them up and tossing them away.

Sique pushed open the door, feather pen in mouth, mumbling indistinctly:

"Alright."

"Today... who shall I look for."

…

White light flashed.

The story on this page of "Wingless Paradise Bird" came to an end, and Su Ming'an returned to the original place.

He had not yet recovered from Sique's experiences when he saw a dramatic scene.

The golden-haired, blue-eyed Hui Bai was facing off against a golden-haired, green-eyed youth, both drawing their swords.

"Liujin, you finished the story?" Hui Bai saw Su Ming'an, pointed at Hui Bei: "This person just arrived on this page. I didn't expect him to have such luck, to roll our page by chance. You go first, he's no good."

"..." Hui Bei said calmly, "A malicious supporting role that seizes the plot with evil intent... you dare appear before the protagonist. Liujin, leave first, do not travel with him. Pudding is on the nearby pages, she'll protect you."

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