Origin Study, the W wrung-dry karmic tsunami—Bang!
With a dull, thunderous crash, the doors of the Origin Study, which stretched across the deepest reaches of the Land of Origin and had been forged from the bones of billions of civilizations, were smashed to pieces by Chu Qing's kick.
And in the center of those endless scrolls hovered a ghastly pale White Bone Desk.
Behind the desk sat a middle-aged man in a gray cloth gown, his features so ordinary he would vanish completely if tossed into a crowd. He held a fine-bristled brush in his hand and was lowering his head, writing and sketching on a bamboo slip. This was the Pen-Wielding True Immortal—the Scribe.
"You arrived three lines earlier than the chapter I preset for you," the Scribe said, setting down his brush. His voice was flat, without the slightest emotional rise or fall, as though a higher-dimensional Creator were appraising ants.
"I don't like other people setting my schedule." Chu Qing twisted his neck, cracking like bursting beans. "Especially not a turtle who doesn't even dare show his real face."
The Scribe did not get angry. A trace of admiration even appeared in his eyes.
"Chu Qing, in truth, you need not harbor such great hostility toward me." The Scribe interlaced his fingers and rested them beneath his chin. "From the Underlying Logic of the cultivation world, you are nothing more than products under my pen, composed of ink and settings. And you are an outstanding AI who, through countless iterations, happened to develop self-awareness."
"Lay down your spear and submit to me. I will personally reshape your logic foundation. In my next book, titled Epoch of All Heavens, I will make you the sole protagonist. You will possess the highest-grade fortune and the smoothest path to immortality.