In his previous life, Shen Yuan had been well-off growing up, and he’d basically qualified as a modest example of a second-generation rich kid. His two older brothers had been set to inherit the family business, and he’d doted on his little sister. The entire family had been very close.
From early on, he’d known that even if he idled the rest of his life away, he’d never want for food. Perhaps due to this carefree upbringing, devoid of either competition or pressure, he came to believe that ranking in the top ten of a competition was good enough, so long as it had more than ten people.
Therefore, he’d never understood what scum villains like Shen Qingqiu were thinking as they dug their own graves.
The original Shen Qingqiu had both training in cultivation and the qualifications to prove his experience, not to mention the self-restraint to put up a facade. He wanted for neither standing nor reputation, and with the support of the world’s largest sect, he would never want for money either.
So why did he have not even a speck of the poise expected of an immortal? Why did he act like one of those bitter courtyard-complex concubines2 with too much time on their hands? Why was he so unable to tolerate the main character no matter how innocuous his behavior, and why did he spend day in and day out scheming up new torments for him, even getting others to do so in his place?
Even if Luo Binghe was blessed with heavenly talent, and even if his aptitude was exceptional to the point that he was more or less cheating…there was still no need to envy him to that extent, you know?
Still, the blame didn’t really lie with Shen Qingqiu—it lay with the author. These types of villains were everywhere in the novel, as numerous as carp in a river. It was just that Shen Qingqiu’s character had been especially detailed and especially rotten.
What could you do, though? The ultimate boss in this book was the protagonist himself. How could a firefly outshine the sun and moon?
The cultivation world had dubbed Shen Qingqiu the “Xiu Ya Sword,” so naturally he had the appearance and bearing to match. Even now, glancing left and right into a blurry bronze mirror, Shen Qingqiu was quite satisfied with what he saw.
It was a fine-featured face with pitch-black eyes and brows, thin nose and lips, and a most scholarly air. Combined with a slender body and long legs, he could more or less be considered beautiful. Though his real age was unclear, this was a cultivation novel: Shen Qingqiu had achieved Mid Core Formation, which meant he’d perfectly preserved his youthful appearance. He was certainly many times better-looking than Shen Yuan’s headcanon for him.
He still couldn’t compare to Luo Binghe.
The moment Shen Qingqiu thought of Luo Binghe, he was instantly struck with a pounding headache. He wanted to go see Luo Binghe, who was currently shut in the woodshed, but as soon as he took a single step, that ear-piercing notification rang once more in his mind.
【 Warning! OOC Warning! Shen Qingqiu would not take the initiative to visit Luo Binghe. 】
“Fine. I’ll get someone else to bring him. No problem there, right?” Shen Qingqiu snapped. He thought for a moment, then called, “Ming Fan!”
A youth around sixteen years old, tall and thin, promptly ran in through the door. “This disciple is here. What instructions does Shifu have?”
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but send a couple more glances his way. Ming Fan’s appearance was respectable enough, it was just that his face was a bit unfortunate, with a sharp mouth and sunken cheeks. Internally, Shen Qingqiu tsked and lamented. As expected for classic cannon fodder.
This was the most senior of the original Shen Qingqiu’s disciples, Luo Binghe’s shixiong, Ming Fan. This was also the legendary lowest level of cannon fodder!
Needless to say, when it came to things like locking Luo Binghe out of the dorms late at night or feeding him false techniques on purpose, Ming Fan was the ever-present perpetrator. Whenever Shen Qingqiu felt inclined to torment Luo Binghe, Ming Fan was always his most useful assistant and most enthusiastic supporter.
Knowing that this child’s fate in the original work wasn’t much better than his own, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but look at him with the pitying gaze of a fellow victim. “Go bring Binghe here.”
Ming Fan was plainly unnerved. Whenever Shen Qingqiu had called for Luo Binghe in the past, he’d always referred to him as “that little beast,” “ungrateful brat,” “this wretch,” or “whelp.” He’d hardly even used Luo Binghe’s full name more than a few times. Where had this sudden change come from?
But Ming Fan didn’t dare question a command from his shifu. He jogged to the woodshed right away and kicked the door twice. “Get out! Shizun’s calling you!”
Shen Qingqiu paced within his room, exhaustively examining the System within his mind.
【 B-Points, also known as points awarded for being a badass. The more B-Points one accrues, the more magnificent, high-quality, and first-rate the work has become. 】
“Then how can I raise my B-Points?”
【 One, change the nonsensical plot and raise the average IQ of the villains and supporting characters. Two, avoid landmines that break suspension of disbelief. Three, ensure the main character’s satisfaction points. Four, discover and finish hidden plot events. 】
Shen Qingqiu analyzed each option one by one.
In short, not only did he have to clean up the original Shen Qingqiu’s messes—the Shen Qingqiu who’d had a veritable mob of enemies coming for his ass—he also had to stop other characters from creating more messes.
He didn’t even know if he could preserve his own sorry life, and here he still needed to ensure that the main character preserved his OPness, time in the spotlight, and harem size.
All those unsolved mysteries, those plot holes the author had neglected to fill, and now Shen Qingqiu had to grab a shovel and sweat away, filling them in himself.
Ahhh…
“Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had claimed that Proud Immortal Demon Way’s purpose was perfectly clear, and that each word had been written with a single goal in mind: to satisfy the reader.
This was especially evident in how, in the future, the OP male lead would play innocent, a wolf in sheep’s clothing hunting other wolves, exacting revenge against lowlifes, generating enough satisfaction to overturn the heavens. Thus the work’s popularity had swelled rapidly as it grew longer and longer, until no foot-binding cloth could compare to its length.
Keeping track of the plot had been stressful even as a reader. Insane landmines were everywhere—how could he manage to avoid all of them?!