Main God Consciousness

Wen Zhi gripped the golden cudgel tightly, instinctively circled around the chair, and ran towards the exit on the other side.

The walls on both sides of the exit are recessed inward, and it is dark all around, so dark that you can't see your hand in front of your face.

He kept tapping on the walls on both sides until he finally touched a soft indentation. He pushed it in forcefully, and the wall in front of him slowly contracted to the side, allowing faint light to seep in through the expanding gap.

Before the door was fully opened, he eagerly squeezed through the gap, sideways, and entered the dimly lit passageway.

The passageway was shrouded in mist, with only a few streaks of light falling on the ground, blurring the view. Only occasionally could one make out the damp, sticky moss on the passageway walls.

Suddenly, the dim yellow light shone without warning in the mist, and a cold aura emanated from the darkness ahead. A white figure emerged from below, its face hidden under the brim of a white hat, revealing only a pale chin. A ghostly chanting slowly exploded in the air from afar, sending chills down one's spine.

Wen Zhi couldn't help but take a deep breath, feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

His feet seemed to be nailed to the spot, his knees stiffened into a rigid arc, making it difficult to move.

The pale figure rapidly approached, extending its bloodless, bluish-white hands to suddenly grip Wen Zhi's chin, forcing him to look up and meet its gaze.

The moment their eyes met, a wave of murderous intent swept over them.

Wen Zhi seemed to hear the muffled sound of a blade cutting into bone, the buzzing of wind rushing into his ear canal mixed with the sharp sound of his body breaking through the airflow, a strange sense of weightlessness enveloped his whole body, as if he were falling from a great height, and his internal organs ached suffocatingly.

Before he could see anything clearly, his consciousness sank into darkness, like scattered dust, and he felt nothing more.

Liang An gripped the boning knife, watching Wen Zhi's body disappear bit by bit, turning into scattered ashes that were completely annihilated in the dimly lit passageway.

The space began to distort and deform, the plaster on the walls of the passageway peeled off bit by bit, and fine cracks appeared on the floor and walls, revealing the emptiness and chaos behind it little by little, like a pencil drawing that had been erased and gradually faded into nothingness.

Liang An looked at himself. The plain white mourning clothes of the White Impermanence he was wearing turned into specks of light and floated into the air. The mourning stick in his hand was replaced by a sharp boning knife, which was also rapidly disappearing. His body was becoming transparent and instantly turned into specks of light and merged into the emerging white space.

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Liang An once again drifted in the vast, pure white space, like a speck of dust, moving forward with the airflow.

Consciousness is like a kite with its string cut, drifting freely, untouchable, and even the thought of trying to grasp something begins to blur.

He closed his eyes and slowly gathered his thoughts.

Finally, he remembered Wen Zhi in the secret room, and he successfully lured him in with bait.

Those scattered fragments of memory in my consciousness finally came together and pieced together into a clear picture.

The instant he grabbed Wen Zhi's chin in the passageway, without the slightest hesitation, he raised the boning knife, gripped the tip tightly, and stabbed it fiercely at Wen Zhi.

The moment the knife pierced the skin, space began to distort. He did not restrain his killing intent. Before the blood droplets could even emerge from the tip of the knife, the person he had been holding in his hand evaporated from between his fingers like mist blown away by the wind.

Everything faded and collapsed again with Wen Zhi's disappearance. He also turned into specks of light and drifted into the void during the collapse. After waking up, he once again drifted in this empty, pure white space.

The golden light flashed again in the distance, and Liang An stopped not far away, watching it quietly.

The gold-bound book floated in the air, still bright and new, but the burnt, charred edges at its four corners seemed to have grown larger, spreading towards the text in the center of the cover.

The words "The domineering XX falls in love with me" on the cover no longer seem as terrifying as they did the first time I saw them.

Perhaps nothing in this world is constant. The vitality and energy of a thread-bound book will also be consumed and dissipated. Perhaps one day, when its vitality is exhausted, the burn marks on the four corners of the cover will engulf the entire book and turn it into charred ashes.

Liang An slowly approached the cover; the two characters "XX" still seemed like an endless abyss, devouring his mind.

His soul felt as if it were being devoured by a ferocious beast; sharp teeth gnawed at his life force along his meridians, and pain was everywhere.

He bit his tongue hard, tensed his fingers, touched the edge of the cover with his fingertips, and suddenly pulled back the pages.

"Thump~"

The sound of a bell, like the sound of a night drum, suddenly echoed in my ears, drowning out the soft rustling of the pages, like a final warning.

The cover, pulled along by my fingertips, finally brushed against the spine, revealing the first page.

The homepage was blank, then suddenly ink appeared, as if seeping from the paper's texture, gradually gathering into a thin stream that flowed along the lines and solidified into lines of text.

"Table of Contents; Chapter 1: The First Day of School at Haicheng High School; Chapter 2: The Innocence and Fluttering Hearts of Youth; Chapter 3: The Early-Deceased White Moonlight..."

Liang An's gaze was fixed on the words that gradually appeared on the page. His lips moved slightly as he read, word by word, the syllables floating along the flow of the words.

Suddenly, a force burst forth from the ink between the lines, like an invisible pendulum slamming into his chest.

He was thrown backward by the force, and pain shot up his spine. In the instant the pain exploded, an uncontrollable wail burst out.

The book cover slowly closed the moment Liang Anfei left.

"Young man, you have indeed exceeded my expectations."

The quiet sound suddenly reverberated in the pure white space, creating echoes.

As the words fell, a shimmering gold ink stain, carrying a faint scent of ink, spread around the thread-bound book. The fragrance was like that of ancient paper dried in the sun for thirty days, mixed with a touch of pine soot, possessing an ancient and rustic feel, steeped in a century of time.

Then the golden light gradually condensed into a transparent figure like clouds and mist—it hovered beside the thread-bound book, in a seated meditation posture with its eyes closed, its body radiating a faint golden glow.

Its face is blurry, the features indistinct, only the outline can be traced by following the golden lines. Long hair hangs loosely, neither bound nor tied up, falling along the shoulders and back, the ends emitting a faint golden glow, the clothes fluttering, exuding an almost divine, cold and lonely aura.

It opened its eyes and stared directly at Liang An, the golden glow around it fading further.

"Awakening me comes at a price. Are you ready?" The serene voice rang out again, not a human voice, but rather as if it were emanating from a crack in space, echoing and swirling around my ears.

Liang An steadied himself, a metallic taste rising in his throat, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. He clutched his head in his hands, desperately trying to find a sliver of clarity amidst the chaos.

"Who are you?" Liang An looked up and stared directly at the transparent golden figure in front of him.

"Your will is very stubborn. Fine, I'll tell you. I am the autonomous consciousness of this world, the master of everything. You can call me the Supreme God."

"The Supreme God? This world? You mean the world of thread-bound books, you are the spirit of the books?"

"I am the consciousness of the supreme god, how can a mere soul compare to me?" The clear, solitary voice carried arrogance and oppression.

"Is this space the realm of gods?" Liang An asked eagerly.

"Yes, that's one way to understand it." The arrogant voice paused, as if trying to shake off some inexplicable guilt, and then raised its tone to affirm.

"Then how did I come to the Divine Realm? Am I also a chief god?" Liang An asked without fear.

"Hmph, an ant dares to compete with the sun and moon. You are just a lowly soul. Since you have mistakenly entered the realm of gods, offer up your soul power." After the golden figure finished speaking, it continued to sit cross-legged with its eyes closed.

Liang An wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes scanning back and forth between the golden figure and the thread-bound book, but he didn't sense anything unusual.

"Sigh, the gold trim on your cover has faded even more, and the scorch marks on the four corners seem to have widened. You need my soul power, but you haven't actively sought it out. The time you've wasted is enough to prove you don't have the ability, right?"

A slight smile curved his lips as he continued, "If I'm not mistaken, your consciousness is projected into the world I live in, and Wen Zhi is the medium of your consciousness. Wen Zhi's death will consume a large amount of your life force and energy."

The transparent figure closed its eyes, offering no response to Liang An.

Liang An continued to follow the path of his memory, slowly sorting out his thoughts.

He began, “The first time, Wen Zhi and I fell from the building together. Perhaps it was Wen Zhi’s death that caused a crack in your consciousness projection. If we compare everything to the plot of a book, Wen Zhi’s death is the collapse of the plot. You expended your life force to repair the plot, and the charred and curled edges on the four corners of the cover are perhaps the result of your life force dissipating.”

"And perhaps it was in the cracks that I had the chance to be reborn. After being reborn, I continued to become the variable that affected the plot. In order to stabilize the plot, my early death was almost inevitable. You said that my consciousness is very tenacious. Perhaps this is the reason why I keep being reborn. You are about to lose control of me."

Liang An couldn't help but take a step forward and quicken his pace, saying, "Perhaps I do live in a book, and everyone has their own story. But the story can be changed, and I am the exception and proof of that."

"Heh, you are indeed very clever. Over the years, I had almost forgotten what I was originally like. I expended countless life force to stabilize the world in the book and make it run smoothly. I never expected that my slumber would lead to your awakening."

The transparent figure opened its eyes again, rose from its seated position, and reached out to touch the scorch marks on the four corners of the thread-bound book. "So be it, old friend, let's work together one more time."

As soon as it finished speaking, the transparent figure transformed back into a faint ink mark, rippling with tiny golden light, and slowly drifted toward the golden thread-like book, guided by an invisible force.

The entire book suddenly lit up with a dazzling golden light, as hot and radiant as the sun.

Liang An covered his eyes, his mind filled with a continuous, sharp buzzing.

His consciousness was constantly being pulled and entangled, gradually shattering into countless tiny white light spots. The golden light, carrying a scalding temperature, kept drilling into the gaps between the white light spots.

The two beams of platinum light kept repelling and merging, churning continuously in the void. Suddenly, as if they had finally found a point of convergence, the churning force abruptly contracted, merging into a golden radiance that wrapped around Liang An's left wrist.

As Liang An struggled, he gradually lost his strength, his consciousness began to dissipate, and he finally sank completely into darkness.

The moment the golden light vanished, the pure white space began to crack inch by inch, shattering into fine white powder and merging into the void.