After nearly half a year, Fu Yao was finally finished.
Looking back, Fu Yao's word count was far greater than Di Huang's, but the time was about the same. Looking at the number of updated words, I was speechless. It was too rushed, really too rushed.
Ever since I started writing Fu Yao, I no longer expressed my disdain for the melodramatic Little Bai Tianlei. I didn't seem to be any better. On average, there were tens of thousands of words on the internet, so there was a limit to how exquisite it could be. There were many flaws in Fu Yao's novel, and I hoped that when I had the time, I could slowly revise them. There were also some plots that I knew weren't rigorous enough, but due to the readability of a web novel, I could only handle it this way. However, in my heart, it wasn't without regrets.
But how many things in this world go one's way? I tried my best, and found a basic balance between the readability of a web novel and maintaining my personal style. I had no regrets.
After Fu Yao was finished, the first thing I wanted to do was to thank my dear readers. It was all your tolerance and support. My journey might not have been smooth, and I might not have had climaxes every day, but your support and trust never changed. More than two thousand diamonds and more than four thousand flowers told me that you were always there, always reading my words. Although it was somewhat disrespectful to use flowers and diamonds to measure passion, and it also made me feel a little disdainful of myself, I still very honestly admit that I liked it. I liked it very much, because you all liked what I liked.
I really wanted to point out all the flowers and diamonds that had sent me, as well as those who had left long comments for me. I felt that only by using my words to write your names could I truly prove to you that I was truly grateful. However, I was too tired. I had written a hundred thousand words in five days, and I still had to go to work in between. Now, when I was typing, there were mushroom clouds in front of me. Just looking at the words made me want to vomit. Forgive me for not being able to point out each and every one of your IDs, forgive me for not being able to express my gratitude to each and every one of you, but please believe me, I will always remember you all, and I will always feel warmth for you all.
When I was writing about the Fuyao period, because I was in a rush, I rarely had the time to reply to your messages. I have always felt a deep regret in my heart that I didn't get a reply to your messages. In my opinion, it is a very rude thing to do, so I would like to apologize to my dear relatives. Longan is really not a good person, not sincere enough, not considerate enough, not passionate enough. She put all her energy into her damned flawed novel, ignoring that there are more beautiful things in this world. She is a fool, and everyone should despise her.
In the ending of Fu Yao, I kept my promise and did not adhere to my own concept of "tragic beauty". Although in my heart, I hoped that it would end according to my own ideas — that love did not need to be together every day, as long as we tried. But compared to the mood of my dear readers, Longan's bad taste could be put aside.
Compared to Di Huang and Yan Qing, I personally felt that Fu Yao's only improvement was the addition of a more distinct theme — perseverance. The entire novel was flowing with the power of perseverance. Meng Fuyao's journey across the five continents in search of return was perseverance. Zhangsun Wuji's unwavering heart after waiting for more than 20 years was perseverance. Ya Lanzhu's pursuit of Zhan Beiye was perseverance. The love of the four main male leads for Fu Yao was perseverance. Even the supporting characters, who may be good or evil, who may be liked or hated by others, still had a faint taste of perseverance in their own stories.
Other than perseverance, there were also bravery, loyalty, sacrifice, and all the positive spirits, such as the power that came from the depths of the soul, such as all the beautiful love that could be interpreted from a positive sense. These spirits and powers, these love stories, not only happened to the main characters, but also to the villains. Perhaps it even happened to a passerby who did not even have a name. I wanted to use these stories that belonged to each character to tell the readers that there is no absolute good or bad in this world. Everyone's starting point is different, and the reality that results are also different. A is a bear's paw, B is arsenic. Walking in the world, we need to look at it with an open mind. The scenery should be long, and the vastness of the world should be in our hearts.
This was the original intention of writing Fu Yao — I wanted to write an inspirational novel, to let the passion and courage flow from the tip of the pen. If one day it gives you strength, please remember that in the world of the novel, there is a person who, although illusory, has a warm dream.
Believe me, as long as you dare, nothing is impossible.
There should be a new novel. The reason why I said it should be was because my family was already in a mess, waving a big stick and demanding that I stop writing. Thus, I could only create a pit and occupy it. I would first rest for a while to account to my mother. I smiled bitterly. Because of writing, all kinds of cervical spondylosis and eye problems were small matters. What was even worse was that my aunt hadn't visited me in a long time. Was I really going to go through menopause at such a young age? That was a little scary. Although I didn't mind getting married early and being single until death, I couldn't help but mind my mother's mood. You have to know, waking up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and hearing faint sighs from the room next door was very depressing.
The new pit was occupied. I looked at my pit with a wait-and-see attitude. I wanted to see how many relatives still wanted to read Longan's book. If there were too many, it would make me embarrassed. I have a strong sense of responsibility, so I would probably still write. If everyone felt that it was enough until Fu Yao, I felt that I could be free from this. There are always many things in this world that can't be let go, but many times, even if you can't let go, you still have to let go. Just like those flowers that we loved, once bloomed, beautiful, and existed, that's enough.
We were always on the road, looking forward to putting down our luggage.
= = =
Appendix, my concubine is really a careful person. She actually helped me organize the records of sending flowers and diamonds so that I could thank her. Ah ah, I will paste it to express my gratitude. If there is any omission, please smash my concubine.
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