Chapter 1043: Ten Directions Tea Party - Debut

Another volume has finally concluded, and I feel as though I've just finished a major battle. The more complex the plot and the more numerous the factions, the harder it becomes to weave a beautiful ending.

Now, I'll brew a cup of good tea and chat with everyone about a small plot-related debate. Some readers believe that the build-up to Yu Zecheng and the Mo family uncle and nephew in the early part of this volume's climax was too long, bordering on redundant.

All means serve an end. In fact, similar doubts were raised before the "Havoc in Heaven" arc. At that time, the intention was to solidly portray the protagonist's strategic planning, making the final strike both astonishing and perfectly logical.

What about now? Now, it's about effectively setting the stage for this "game." The Mo family uncle and nephew, and Yu Zecheng, all tried their best to maneuver and perform within their capabilities, but ultimately, they could not escape their fate as pawns. Only Grand Master Shuangye and Grand Master Wang were truly qualified to sit opposite He Lingchuan and play the game. However, Grand Master Shuangye and Grand Master Wang also tried their utmost to turn the protagonist into their own pawn.

This is a high-stakes game, escalating step by step. The meaning of the battle extends beyond the combat itself. For the protagonist, this rebellion-suppression and defense battle also marked the first time his new faction stepped onto the world stage, sending a signal of independence and self-determination to the two major powers. It was a debut, marking the protagonist's transition from an individual to a faction leader. It's the beginning of a new era, a landmark event for this world, and it was worth the author's effort to describe this process, where a great wind rises from humble beginnings.

Through its strength, methods, and attitude, Yangshan Archipelago gained recognition from Grand Master Shuangye and Beijia, signifying its "autonomy." By adhering to the principle of mutual benefit with Mou Nation, making it clear that their relationship was not one of superior and subordinate, much less a dominant and subservient one, Yangshan Archipelago demonstrated its "independence." With the two major powers acting this way, surrounding countries and regions, such as Bailie and Qing Nation, had no choice but to humble themselves and maintain good neighborly relations. From then on, the overall development of Yangshan Archipelago could truly begin.

Therefore, what Jiu Fang laid the groundwork for earlier was not the battle itself. In the context of the entire event, the battle was a small chess piece, while the grand strategy was the larger game. Some people believed they were players, but in fact, they were merely pieces in a more macroscopic scheme. The battle ended, but the game had just begun. When a stone is cast into still water, one watches for the ripples to spread gently.

In fact, the character Xiao He is playing a game of chess within the book, and Jiu Fang is also playing a game outside the book. I cannot foresee ten steps ahead, but I aim to see at least five. Constant adjustments and revisions are necessary to even barely achieve the desired effect.

While I am indeed cautious, my output has... not kept up. That's why I've never dared to mention bonus chapters for donations, and I ask for your patience, esteemed readers. Jiu Fang is constantly adjusting, and if I can increase my output, I promise to use bonus chapters to enthusiastically acknowledge your monthly votes—no, your unwavering support!

Speaking of which, I've also repeatedly pondered whether my writing is overly "detailed" or perhaps "verbose." Breaking it down, it's a matter of striking the right balance between detail and brevity. What truly warrants detail, and what can be brief? Why should a recruitment, a battle, or a game of strategy be written in such detail, as if they were real? When He Lingchuan's cultivation advanced significantly last time, a reader playfully teased Jiu Fang: "This author seems to want to teach me how to break through myself!" Heavens, you really made me burst out laughing.

Let me ask everyone a question: When you ascend to the throne, ruling over the world and receiving homage from all nations, would you rather say, "This empire was forged by my own hands!" Or would you rather say, "Wow, what great luck, I transmigrated and became an emperor?" Both involve becoming an emperor, but can the sense of satisfaction be the same? Can the majestic and heroic feeling of the former, looking down upon the world, be replaced by the quiet glee and smugness of the latter?

So, where is the difference? It lies in whether one has "personally put in the effort." The word 'pretend' in "pretending to be cool/awesome" is used perfectly; only what is fake needs to be pretended. This pretense lacks substance; its meaning is superficial. Without pretending, how can others see it? How can one feel self-satisfied? However, did emperors like Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, Emperor Taizong of Tang, or Emperor Taizu of Song need to pretend? They were genuinely formidable, weren't they? Others might perceive them as constantly showing off, but in reality, that was just their daily life, their natural state; there was no need to deliberately "pretend."

Therefore, this is the core focus of the entire "Immortal" book: to genuinely fight and build an empire with real effort. This kind of power and success feels particularly natural.

Xiao He will continuously grow and overcome obstacles throughout the book. From establishing achievements and making a name for himself, to dominating all directions; from tackling tough challenges, to reshaping the world. We will accompany him in his struggles and in building his enterprise. Whether it's challenges related to cultivation, mindset, combat, development, or organization... we will have to overcome and solve every unavoidable difficulty alongside him. For me, the author, there's no such thing as "I can write this kind of story, but I'm not good at that kind!" History, political schemes, cultivation, adventure, combat, slice-of-life... we avoid none of it. We write whatever needs to be written. From grand events like battling through the heavens to smaller tasks like construction and recruitment, they all exist on the same plane, requiring the protagonist to take solid steps and diligently accomplish them. Because there are no shortcuts to success. I hope this book can provide you with an immersive, comprehensive experience of success, "as if it were real."

Having discussed what I consider "detailed," let's talk about "brief." Repetitive events and battles, along with day-to-day slice-of-life developments, are usually kept brief. For example, the seven-head gift box this time. Since birth dates were mentioned earlier, everyone knew it was the work of the Nightmare, so there was no need to elaborate. In other words, common tropes are always written briefly to save everyone's time and energy.

It's often said that companionship is the longest confession of love. Writing up to this point, is it us accompanying the protagonist in his growth, or is it the protagonist accompanying us in our progress? Is he merely a character in the book, or a reflection of ourselves? There's no need to distinguish. For Jiu Fang, whether I accompany the protagonist in solving his problems, or he accompanies me in solving mine, there's no need to clearly differentiate. Growing together is what matters. The same applies to you and me.

Let's progress together. Thank you for being here.

——————Jiu Fangye / Wind Flows Through Clouds 2023.11.11