At last, it was time for the afterword again.
Whenever this time came around, I always felt utterly drained. I had a lot to say, yet felt too exhausted to say it. My previous afterwords had never been long—around a thousand words or so.
This book had been especially tiring, because it was my longest one yet...
It was like running a marathon. The first half was always easier; the farther into the second half you got, the more exhausted you became. Every extra meter was tiring, and this book had an extra million words... I truly admired those beasts who could write several million, even tens of millions, of words. They were incredible.
I really couldn't manage it. I just wanted to rest.
That said, this book really was my best-performing one... Some said its reputation was worse than Spring and Autumn, while others said it had improved upon Spring and Autumn. Everyone had their own tastes, so there was no need to argue over that. But personally, I wasn't particularly satisfied with it.
Not because there was anything wrong with the writing itself, but mainly because it was not the story I had originally wanted to write.
In truth, this book could not really be considered a conventional progression novel. It was actually a travelogue.
Once I said those two words, I wondered whether many people would suddenly see the light: So that was it.
Previously, many people had said they couldn't see the main plotline. Indeed, it wasn't very obvious, because the main plotline was exploring the world. Divine Land, the Underworld, the Great Wilderness, the Eastern Sea, the Northern Abyss, the Heavenly Realm. Every time I reached a place, I described its local customs and scenery, building a three-dimensional world. Those experiences would ultimately become Qin