Amid the stacks of books.
The Book of Tear Stains, a real Bigmouth, was holding forth to a group of book anomalies, proudly boasting about the stories of tears it had recently collected.
Every time the Book of Tear Stains recounted another story, the surrounding books cried out in amazement. They were a perfectly attentive audience.
Chen Miemie tried to blend in, but his conspicuously unusual physique was quickly spotted by the books. They immediately surrounded him.
“Hey, Light-Spot Person, where’s your book? You may be powerful, but you can’t just refuse to read. ”
Chen Miemie hurriedly protested, “I’m listening to the Book of Tear Stains tell stories right now. Listening attentively to a story is also a new form of reading. You can’t reject new things.”
The books immediately split into two factions. One believed Chen Miemie was merely making excuses and trying to argue his way out of it.
The other faction, led by the Book of Tear Stains, was strongly in favor of the idea of listening to stories. Chen Miemie’s praise had made it feel thoroughly pleased with itself.
The Book of Tear Stains flew over to Chen Miemie. “You have excellent taste, and you’re a smooth talker too. You’re clearly a man of refinement.”
Chen Miemie indicated that he still had not heard enough. “Do you have any more stories you’ve collected recently?”
“No more. Expanding a book’s contents isn’t that easy.”
“Then this really isn’t nearly enough to listen to. How about this? I’ll give you an idea. There are sixteen sealing sites across the city, and every one of them is facing a desperate situation. You can go interview them one by one. You’re sure to make a huge haul.”
The Book of Tear Stains was overjoyed. A single tear appeared on its cover; crying was how it expressed happiness.
“You’re such a good person. I’ll go right now.” With that, the Book of Tear Stains immediately flew away.
Once the Book of Tear Stains was gone, Chen Miemie, having lost his strongest supporter, hurriedly left as well. Otherwise, the other books might force him to read.
On the rooftop.
Orange, Persimmon, and Peeling Paint’s discussion had reached an impasse.
Normally, a single order from Orange would have been enough to make Peeling Paint obediently withdraw.
But now, Orange and Persimmon truly had no way to resolve the problem.
Witches might be proud, but they were not fools.
If there really was no hope at all, then even if Orange had to die here, she could not fail to consider the future of her race before her death. She had to leave behind a possible way out, a spark to keep alive.
Peeling Paint was one such spark.
As time passed, their progress eventually reached sixty-seven percent, and then stopped advancing altogether.
Even Persimmon lowered her head deeply, burying her face as she whispered, almost inaudibly, “Stop. We’ve already lost.”
Orange rose into the air and looked down at the entire city, its orange-colored veins flickering in and out of sight. She let out a soft sigh.
“Stop? Then half the people in the city will be left homeless. Where could they even go?”
She descended onto the rooftop, her long white hair falling limply around her.
“Is this really the only way?”
The three witches on the rooftop fell silent.
Peeling Paint did not press her any further. It simply waited quietly for Orange to act.
Persimmon’s entire body was tense as she tried to think of some way to turn the situation around at the very last moment.
Orange had always been decisive, but this time, she raised her hand and lowered it three times in succession, unable to sever the core of the sealing formation.
“We’ve come to help.”
A voice familiar to Persimmon rang out.
Persimmon suddenly raised her head and looked toward the source of the voice, astonished. “Withering Poems!”
A group of book anomalies appeared in the sky, flying in formation like a flock of migratory birds. They came from afar in a long, orderly line.
“It’s us. Our power also belongs to the reading system, so we can use it to construct the seal.”
Withering Poems led the group, and several hundred books landed on the rooftop.
Peeling Paint was stunned on the spot. “You—you all! This seal is meant to seal you away, and you’re still willing to contribute your strength?!”
Withering Poems answered in a calm voice, “The Book of Tear Stains recorded your efforts. Those stories themselves can become a book. We were born in this city too, and we don’t want to see it fall into chaos.”
Peeling Paint staggered back two or three steps, muttering repeatedly under its breath, “Impossible. This is impossible. Why? This means losing our freedom. That’s absolutely impossible.”
Persimmon seemed to realize something all at once. She brought up a set of data and exclaimed softly:
“So far, not a single person in the entire city has died at the hands of a book anomaly. At worst, people have only been injured! How did you manage that? What about your passive effects?”
Withering Poems fluttered its tiny wings and answered the question in the same calm tone.
“Perhaps a passive effect is an uncontrollable instinct inherent to anomalies. But books are crystallizations of wisdom and reason. We are book anomalies, and in this world, there is always some reason capable of rising above instinct.”
The three witches were speechless.
If nearly a thousand anomalies being born overnight was a miracle belonging to [Mystery]…
Then nearly a thousand anomalies mobilizing hundreds of millions of books to celebrate throughout the entire city without a single death was a miracle of reason—a miracle among miracles.
After a long while, Persimmon asked tentatively, “So you can control yourselves? Can we live together from now on?”
Withering Poems swayed from side to side twice.
“Of course not. Unless we receive the favor of the sun and moon, we are anomalies, and anomalies have passive effects. That is a law of the world, and no one can defy it.
“We can only restrain ourselves for a short time. Even now, after half a night, a small number of books are already on the verge of losing control. They are enduring it with great difficulty, and quite a few books have been asking me whether the seal is finished yet.”
Orange asked her first question. “Why would you rather lose your freedom than leave this place? Anomalies usually prefer the world outside the city.”
“If I’m not mistaken, the three of you are witches. Didn’t you also prefer staying among your original race before this?
“We are books, and this place is the [Library]. It is our homeland and our home. It is our past, our present, and our future.
“The reason we restrain ourselves from harming people is that we do not want to disrupt the order here.
“For the [Library], books alone are not enough. There must also be people. Only people can continue reading, and then write new books.
“If we destroy the order and drive the people away, there will be no readers and no new books. That would be the death of the [Library].”
The three witches slowly bowed in a gesture of respect.
“Thank you for your help.”
Beneath the radiance of the Eternal Moon,
and under Chen Miemie’s watchful gaze in the distance,
896 book anomalies arrived at sixteen locations. Lining up, they began channeling their power and constructed the seal that would imprison themselves.
e vast world of cultivation, where he becomes the master of the Heavenly Ruins Sacred Hall, a dying old man with barely a tenth of his former cultivation remaining. He is immediately confronted with a deadly crisis: his subordinates have rebelled, and his protectors are forcing him to abdicate. At the critical moment, the system descends from the heavens: [Ding! The host has been detected facing a life-or-death crisis. The system is now officially activated!] [As a gift, you have received the Supreme Beginner’s Pack and awakened the ultimate cheat: ten thousand years of pure cultivation essence every second!] Yin Tianjue: “Wait… ten thousand years of cultivation every second? That’s six hundred thousand years a minute, and in one day… I can’t even calculate it. Either way, I’m already invincible!” You’re a peerless prodigy rarely seen in ten thousand years? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. You’re an undying ancestor who has guarded a sacred land for countless ages? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. You’re the strongest chosen one, blessed with heaven-defying destiny? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. From this day forth, I have only one thing to say: “I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. Now, how exactly are you supposed to deal with that?”
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
