Chapter 125: Chapter 125: The Healing Power of Gold
A principled text mover?
Nian Shutong held back her laughter and comforted Daodao, saying, “Right, Daodao is the most principled of all.”
“Let me see what’s going on.”
Nian Shutong looked at the comment page that Daodao had opened for her, where, without exception, everyone was scolding her.
[Text Mover! Bring back Bi Yao!]
[You single man, utterly detestable! If you’re going to write Bi Yao dead, then why did you write her so beautifully?]
[I can’t accept it! I can’t accept it!]
[How could you be so heartless? That’s Bi Yao!]
[Although I was once undecided between Bi Yao and Lu Xueqi, how…how could you write Bi Yao dead? Accompained by a bloody knife.]
[Change! Change! Change!]
[If you don’t change, I’m not reading anymore!]
[Change Change Change!]
[Maybe there’s still a chance? Bi Yao still has a strand of her soul left.]
Summing up the comments section, it was filled with intense hostility and a little bit of immense telekinesis hoping for Bi Yao’s resurrection.
Daodao chopped through the less pleasing comments while Nian Shutong’s face seemed to brighten the more she read.
“Master, what are you doing?”
“Ah? I’m learning how they curse.”
“Wuuuwuuu—” Daodao felt even more heartbroken, not that he was really crying, just feeling a bit uncomfortable. Before, everyone praised Daodao, but now they were scolding him.
“Hehe…it’s just a joke. Tell me the story, I’m curious who this Bi Yao is? Was she resurrected?”
Daodao reined in his whimpers and started to explain briefly, waiting for Nian Shutong’s response after finishing.
“It sounds like, your protagonist, while at the Three-Life Well, recognized that Bi Yao was the one he loved. But then, in order to save him, you wrote her dead? And she wasn’t resurrected at all? Then why provide that sliver of hope?”
“That’s about right, but remember, Master, it wasn’t Daodao who wrote it.”
Right, it indeed wasn’t Daodao who wrote it.
Nian Shutong still seemed interested and casually sat on the neatly laid cobblestones, listening to the story Daodao was telling.
“Daodao feels this is a necessary stage for Zhang Xiaofan’s transformation; without great sorrow and pain, how would you write his turn to the demonic path and becoming Gui Li.”
“Mm, I think what you said makes sense, but be prepared to be scolded even more once you’ve finished.”
Now, readers are still holding onto the hope of bringing Bi Yao back to life, but ultimately…sigh.
Nian Shutong grew to admire these writers more—it was really impressive, far more convoluted than their Cultivation World.
But she also had to admit, this plot honestly deserved the scolding, who could blame them since it concerned Bi Yao!
As Daodao wrapped up, just as Nian Shutong was preparing to stand up, Daodao’s loud exclamation made her stop.
It seemed she wasn’t getting away from this spot today.
“What is it, Daodao?”
Nian Shutong looked at the Star Network page Daodao had opened, with a shiny gold starship twinkling brightly at the center.
There was also a line of text beneath it.
[Text Mover, if you change the plot, I can easily send ten of such starships! So, are you going to change it or not?]
Text Mover equated to Wengong. Nian Shutong got it.
“This starship, Daodao?”
“Master, one starship equals One Hundred Thousand Star Coins!”
Snap! The cobblestone under Nian Shutong cracked into two pieces. She didn’t care about that and was just doing the math.
One Hundred Thousand?
“No! Master, Daodao can’t change the plot, absolutely not!”
Nian Shutong took several deep breaths, bidding farewell to the one million with tears in her heart and forcefully steadied herself to support Daodao.
“Good! It’s your decision then.”
Next, Nian Shutong saw Daodao’s particularly aloof reply to the book friend who had sent the starship.
Wengong: Not changing!
Oh my, such lengthy expressions plus one punctuation mark, and Nian Shutong’s heart ached even more.
At the other end of the message, a man sat in an office nearly a hundred square meters large.
His eyes slightly narrowed as he stared at Daodao’s reply for a long, long while.
“Hehe… forget it.” He pinched his forehead, actually getting this serious over a novel.
“Ding Dong!” A knocking sound.
“Come in.” The man turned off the screen in front of him, leaned back in the chair, legs crossed, with a casual look at the newcomer.
“President Yu, here are the data department’s potentials for live streaming.”
The man standing opposite, placed a long glass bar-like object on the table and respectfully left.
The man known as President Yu, ran a scan of the glass bar with his Light Computer, flipping through it.
“It’s all the same old tricks; nothing fresh.”
“Hm? This one seems a bit interesting.”
President Yu opened a video, a pair of handsome hands appeared on the screen, speaking slowly, seductively clear and crisp.
A pair of beautiful hands, holding a roasted chestnut shining under the light, ethereal and charming.