The day passed normally, with nothing else happening except the meeting with the clan master. The next day was also uneventful, except for the clan master sending a book to test Shu-ming's abilities.
The exam was not difficult for Shu-ming, who had studied literature in the 21st century. Passing it was as easy as drinking water. The clan master was satisfied and allowed him to continue teaching Luo Xia.
On the evening of the third day, while Shu-ming was lying on his bed trying to sleep, he suddenly opened his eyes as if he had remembered something. An idea had come to him!
It might be a bit crazy, but it would make him the highest in status and the richest in the entire martial arts world. The idea was to write thousands of other characters. In this way, he would gain thousands of loyal and talented followers. It might cause him some pain due to the heavy writing, but it would be worth it.
He thought for a moment. The first thing he decided to write was a follower in the imperial court. Wouldn't that be amazing…? Dozens of sects and clans in the martial arts world tried desperately to make contact with the imperial court. If such a massive force and enormous wealth became an ally to any sect, that sect would reach the heavens.
First, Shu-ming decided he would not write about the emperor himself. The emperor was already an old man in his sixties and would likely die within twenty years at most. So one of the princes would be perfect. Even if the prince was weak, he could help him later to ascend to the throne. Of course, he couldn't write the prince's exact name or specify him directly. He would only write about a prince from a non-existent kingdom. Since there were no other countries here except the empire that ruled the fourteen provinces, that destiny would naturally fall upon one of the princes of the Li imperial family.
This was not a loophole in the book. He had simply used his intelligence a little until he reached this conclusion. It was impossible to choose a specific person anyway, as there were dozens of sects and clans, making it impossible to target one individual precisely.
At that moment, Shu-ming closed his eyes. He calmly focused until he reached the book inside his consciousness. The pages turned quietly until a blank page opened—one that had never been written on before. Its pages were pure white, shining with a dazzling white light.
Shu-ming imagined a brush and ink beside him, and suddenly the brush and ink appeared.
In this space, he always felt a state of mental clarity and inner peace. It was the ideal state for a writer. Every word and every letter was written with extreme care. When he wrote, it felt as if he were writing a real biography of someone, with precise details rather than mere fantasy.
He began writing… It was simply a very ordinary prince's story with nothing particularly special. A prince raised in the kingdom, intelligent and with natural talent in martial arts. What distinguished him most was his sharp mind… The moment he wrote about his intelligence, talent, and identity at the same time, all the internal energy he had gathered in his dantian was drained, and the same pain he had felt when writing Luo Feng's story before returned. He was forced out of the book's consciousness.
He started screaming in intense pain that burned his chest. His face turned pale as veins bulged from the agony. "Aaaaahhhhhh! Uggghhh!"
His voice was loud, so the servant outside the room heard it and quickly opened the door. "Young master!! What's wrong with you?!" Shu-ming didn't answer him and continued screaming nonstop. The servant ran out immediately. While running through the corridors, he saw Luo Feng training in the clan's training grounds even at this late hour. The servant shouted, "Young Master Luo Feng!! Sir Shu is screaming in severe pain!!"
Luo Feng turned around and didn't waste time talking. He rushed toward Shu-ming's room at full speed, while the servant went to fetch the doctor. Luo Feng burst into the room with a panicked expression. "My lord!! What's wrong?!"
Luo Feng moved closer and quickly grabbed Shu-ming's wrist. He found no internal energy left in his body, as if it had completely evaporated. He immediately began pouring his own energy into Shu-ming's body… But every bit of energy that entered vanished in an instant. Still, as he continued pumping energy, Shu-ming gradually began to calm down. Luo Feng kept going without stopping.
A short while later, an old doctor entered the room, his face covered in sweat. It looked like he had run a long way to get here. "Y-Young master! What's the problem?"
But he found Luo Feng and Shu-ming in a calm state. After Luo Feng had poured all his energy into Shu-ming, the latter had calmed down. Instead of pain, he suddenly looked sick. Luo Feng turned to the doctor. "Doctor, please treat him. He seems ill."
Luo Feng himself was not in good condition either. After exhausting all his qi, his face was pale and he needed rest. The doctor approached Shu-ming and took his wrist. Shu-ming's condition was a bit strange. He seemed to be suffering from nothing more than severe cold. All he needed was some Yang energy or to sit by a heater… So why had Luo Feng looked so pale earlier? That was what the doctor was thinking.
He prepared some painkillers and medicine for Shu-ming. "Young master, Sir Shu will be fine soon. There is no need to worry…"
After bowing to Luo Feng, the doctor left… Shu-ming's face gradually improved. And so the day passed.
The next morning, Shu-ming slowly opened his eyes. "Ugh… That hurt like hell, damn it."
He would have to endure this thousands of times if he wanted to build the army he desired. That was just his imagination for now…
The internal energy in his body had begun gathering again. He looked to his side and saw Luo Feng sleeping on a chair beside him.
He ignored him. What really caught his attention was discovering that even if he gathered a lot of internal energy, he wouldn't have to suffer that pain and sickness again. But why was the pain much worse this time? He thought it was related to the character's identity. The more distinctive traits he wrote and the fewer flaws, the greater the pain and sickness. If he wrote a perfect character one day, he might even die from it…
Shu-ming thought inwardly that since he had written very little about the character this time, maybe that was why? Or perhaps the details weren't enough? He hadn't mentioned the character's personality… his story… his family… so many things. Maybe he wouldn't feel that pain again. So he decided to continue writing now while sitting on his bed.
He entered his consciousness once more. The book opened in front of him on the exact page he had been writing on before he passed out, and he continued writing… This time he felt no pain at all. The character he wrote was as follows:
An arrogant character who believed that even the heavens themselves did not deserve to bow before him unless they proved their superiority. He loved power, not for pleasure, but because he saw himself as the only one capable of wielding it efficiently. He possessed an innate talent in martial arts that surpassed most of his generation, and a sharp intelligence that allowed him to read others' intentions like an open book.
He was born to a concubine of humble origin, which gave him far less power compared to his other brothers.
Shu-ming wrote several more details, such as leading campaigns to suppress rebellions and many other specifics. The more he wrote about the character's past, the clearer the personality became and the easier it would be to deal with him. Luo Feng's loyalty hadn't been absolute either—perhaps because the writing had been too light? More details were better to see the results… After finishing more than a hundred pages, Shu-ming exited his consciousness. Perhaps because he was inside his own mind, but it seemed that no more than half an hour had passed outside, while he had spent over five days writing.
Outside the room, the sun had already risen. Shu-ming stood up quietly, put on his clothes as usual, and left the room without waking Luo Feng.
Shu-ming walked calmly through the clan courtyard while thinking, "If this character succeeds, I will have eyes inside the imperial court—an ambitious prince I can direct toward the throne. And once he succeeds… I will reach the peak of a luxurious life." If anyone had heard what he was thinking, they would have slapped him. All he was thinking about was money and reaching the peak of luxury, while he had the potential to reach the peak of power in the world.
In truth, he was also interested in power, but ordinary martial arts were simply not enough to satisfy his desire for strength…
At that moment, he heard the sound of quick footsteps behind him.
"My lord!!"
He turned around to find Luo Feng, who had woken up and was running toward him. His face was still pale, showing signs of exhaustion.
Shu-ming raised his hand slightly to interrupt him. "Why did you wake up so early? Your condition is still…"
Luo Feng smiled and said, "I'm fine, my lord. I can handle qi exhaustion. How are you feeling now?"
Shu-ming nodded in satisfaction. "I'm fine. I'm going now, so take care of yourself. Oh, and don't neglect your training. We're going to do something that will turn the world upside down in a few years."
Shu-ming continued on his way with his hands behind his back. His loose robe fluttered in the breeze. That scene filled Luo Feng's heart with excitement…
He bowed slightly. "I am at your command, my lord."
Shu-ming headed to the study room and spent the rest of the day normally, without any further changes.
That evening, he lay on his bed while Luo Feng, who had fully recovered his qi, sat on the chair opposite the bed.
This time, Shu-ming planned to write another character—a king of mercenaries… a high-level martial artist. So he summoned Luo Feng to supply him with internal energy, along with an elixir that Luo Feng had stolen from the clan's treasury in case it was needed.
But things did not go as planned. Shu-ming couldn't write at all! Every time he tried to put the brush down and start writing, he felt a mysterious force preventing the brush from reaching the book. The only conclusion was that there was a cooldown period between each writing session. He decided to wait until the time reset again.
But the moment that thought entered his mind, the pages of the book flipped to that black page, and the second line began to glow, exactly like the first one!
2- The author can only write one story at a time, with a period in between.
Shu-ming thought… How long was that period? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? So many possibilities…
But he decided to write every day until he figured out the exact required time.