…
[As the magpie wiped out Lotasha, the emperor who witnessed everything was filled with emotion - is this fate a blessing or a curse? The emperor could not help but close his paper fan, hummed a few words, and stepped on the steps to recite a poem: "Leaning on the railing to look at the moon, I sigh that life is like a dream."]
…
[After the Emperor returned to Rovatha, he heard about the selection of the Lord's daughter, and he was very interested and went there happily. However, he stood out from the crowd with just one stroke of the cat and one step, and attracted the great joy of the world. In the evening, the Emperor took a leisurely tour, but saw that his old friend was still standing in the palace, with frost and snow not yet melted, and only an unfinished book left. ]
…
Scenes after scenes emerged in the broken lenses of dramatic memory.
Su Mingan walks in the past and in the present.
He looked at the scenes of the stories that he had personally led, experienced and written with a sense of familiarity yet unfamiliarity.
The broken palace curtains, the dim afterimage of the dragon, the castle of the goddess of life, the magnificent palace of the lord of the world... all the joys and sorrows, grandeur and humility carried by the broken lenses of dramatic memories are transformed here into the most primitive and powerful weapons for the final and most thorough deconstruction.
…
“Crack—”
“Crack!”
“Crack!”
[Your drama memory lens·"Olivers, don't be so fond of rubbing" has been shattered. 】
[Your drama memory lens·"Is it true that I am Si Que?" has been shattered. 】
[Your drama memory lens "A White Story" has been shattered. ]
…
[Story rating: 49 → 41]
[Story rating: 41 → 36]
[Story rating: 36 → 32]
…
"I no longer need a high-scoring story..." Su Mingan closed his eyes and suddenly smiled:
"I want a happy ending."
He does not need the "perfection" assessed by the World Tree and the World Game.
He doesn't need those grand and magnificent epics.
He wants,
——It has always been the “security and freedom” of the majority of people.
…
[Tree transformation progress: 60%]
…
He opened his eyes.
In front of me is the white god An under the World Tree.
There were no Noel, Danshuang, Siber, Li Mingyue and others, nor were there star destroyers or arks.
This is - the plot has come to the time when they first met.
Shen Ming'an was throwing sugar cubes into the teacup, and Su Ming'an was covered in scars and had lost all his companions, so he rushed under the tree.
“Crack!”
[Your drama memory lens "197 seconds and the death of the butterfly" has been shattered. ]
Shenming An was dressed in a white robe, staring at the ripples of the red tea.
The two-dimensional shuttle between words made Him look visibly tired, as if He had finished reading a six-million-word novel overnight, exhausted, both physically and mentally.
Su Ming'an sensed his own condition. Due to the battle with the god Ming'an, his tree transformation progress increased rapidly. He also became more proficient in the use of words and books, and his understanding of the world system.
Now the last obstacle must be killed as quickly as possible.
He held up the last few drama memory lenses, including one with the highest rating - "The Story Continues".
This is a Drama Memory Lens with a score of 99 points, which is enough to make most of the creators of Rovasha fight for it and bleed.
Su Mingan lifted it up, threw it down, and smashed it without mercy.
“Crack!”
The lens is broken.
A bizarre picture emerged.
They stand between stories of the past.
"Destiny", "Reincarnation", "Pain", "Despair", "Gods", "Betrayal", "High Dimension", "Gamble", "Death", "Dream"...
Every word turned into tiny bone-eating maggots, which rolled onto the body of the god An and gnawed at the boundaries of his divine power. A subtle and teeth-grinding "rustling" sound was emitted, as if billions of bookworms were gnawing at an ancient parchment scroll at the same time.
It was not physical damage, but conceptual erosion - an attempt to dismantle and degrade His divinity into an adjective that could be interpreted and erased.
He swung his sword, cutting off the sentence "Intense pain came from Su Ming'an's heart", cutting off the sentence "Su Ming'an swallowed the sixteenth rose of blood in pain", and cutting off the sentence "The holy sword pierced Su Ming'an's forehead". The pain embodied by the words collapsed towards Him. A huge word "death" fell on his head, but was blocked by His sword.
Amid the deafening roar, the word "death" shattered into pieces, but the fragments did not disappear. Instead, they twisted and stretched, turning into countless cold "fate", "responsibility", "death rollback", "cage"...
These cold and hard phrases entangled His limbs and the blade of His sword, piercing His consciousness. Countless cold memories related to this, carried by the dramatic memory lenses, instantly flooded into His mind -
Because He is also Him.
The pain he could feel, He could feel the same.
The memories that pained him, hurt Him too.
These emotional fragments, captured, refined, and infinitely magnified by words, shook His soul more than any physical attack. In His brilliant golden eyes, there flashed the sting of "empathy" - that was the weight of the "story" itself.
...Why are you in so much pain?
...Why do you make yourself so miserable?
It was as if countless invisible pen tips were greedily absorbing His divine power, preparing to completely dismantle and reorganize Him - the supreme "audience" god An who once sat under the world tree and drank black tea - and incorporate Him into this narrative chapter to become one of the defined and written characters.
And in the center of all this violent chaos, at the absolute still point symbolized by the "period", Su Mingan remained speechless.
My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It’s even more exciting later!
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