The editor messaged me this morning to say that the book would go on sale at midnight tonight.
It's time to go on sale again.
That was fast.
It felt as though I had only uploaded the new book yesterday. No, I should say it felt as though the last time I finished a book was only yesterday... That vigorous growth, that realm where all things vied to spring forth, still seemed vivid before my eyes. How had it suddenly, in the blink of an eye, become the place where my book was going on sale?
Someone must have sped up the flow of my time. I hope they come forward and confess quickly. If I catch them, they'll be in for it.
Of course, it might also be because happy times were always short-lived... right?
But I didn't seem to have been very happy either!
As it turned out, these damn days really did pass this quickly. Whether you were happy or not, only when you were suffering did a day feel like a year. Take being stuck on a chapter, for example—stuck on a chapter, stuck on a chapter, and stuck on a chapter.
It was strange. Before uploading anything, I could casually write several thousand or even ten thousand words a day, and my stockpiled chapters would pile up at lightning speed. But once I started a new book, life stopped going smoothly.
A minor block every three days, a major block every five. Block after block, I blocked away the Old Times and blocked little Duo Duo bald. Every day I was trembling with fear, walking on thin ice, wanting only to post a Moment and ask whether I could make it to the other shore.
Heaven knew whether I could or not. I didn't know either!
So I looked ahead and behind, so I hesitated and wavered. So when the days dragged on like years, I also felt I was wasting my youth. Yet whenever I looked back, I found that my days had been so full they were almost excessive—so full that I sometimes found it hard to believe.
I often went back and reread the things I had written. Most of the time, I felt that what I had written was fucking amazing. How had I managed to write something so incredible? Then, even more often, I would roll around, crying and howling, feeling that I would never be able to write anything so amazing again.
Sometimes, I would deliberately focus on certain scenes I liked, because I still remembered how happy I had been during the days when I wrote them. There were also some scenes I would instinctively skip over, because that period of my life had been unpleasant or downright awful.
I hadn't kept a diary since graduating from elementary school. But now, when I looked back at those stories, it felt as though my otherwise unremarkable past had appeared before my eyes once again.
Updates were like turpentine. When they dripped down from the branches, they wrapped around the person I had been. After some time, memories of the past would appear in the update list like neatly arranged pieces of amber.
When I wrote this chapter, Bai Ze gave me a birthday celebration; when I wrote that chapter, Duo Duo fell ill; when this plotline was being updated, I remembered that I had been very sad; writing that plotline had been incredibly difficult, and I had stayed up very late, but looking at it now, the result was excellent... Those countless trivial memories were carried in the gaps behind the plot, hidden away in corners I had never noticed. Whenever I looked back, they would take advantage of my inattention, suddenly leap out, and appear before my eyes.
You still remembered things from so long ago for me.
That was amazing.
This job did have some benefits after all, didn't it?
Ever since I started writing full-time, my life had become monotonous and dull.
After opening my eyes each day, I spent most of my time in front of the computer. Once I finished writing, I would collapse into my chair, unable to move. I gave up socializing and going out, stopped interacting with other people, and hardly spoke to anyone. As time passed, I stopped liking to message people first. Every day, I immersed myself in my own tiny corner of the world, until, little by little, I seemed to become transparent.
Now, looking back, I felt wistful and lost, yet at the same time...
It felt fucking great!
How could there be such a wonderful thing in this world?!
What had I been doing before? Oh, it seemed I had already started writing back then.
Thinking of it that way, it felt even better.
When I was young, I often thought, This world is so dark. I'm gonna fight, fight, fight and bring it all down! But after I was no longer young, I felt that although this world was a colossal mess and not very good at all, at least I had found the place where I felt most at ease.
As long as I could write something, I would feel happy.
If readers liked it, I would feel that gritting my teeth and pushing on had been worth it.
Of course, if people didn't require daily updates, that would be even better. Life would be like a kingdom where milk and honey flowed in the rivers and fig trees grew heavy with fruit.
If I could write a book that readers remembered for the rest of their lives, then perhaps this life of mine wouldn't count as having been wasted?
So I could work a little harder, grit my teeth a little longer, and tough it out. It probably wouldn't be so bad.
When I was fourteen, I imagined leaving my hometown and traveling to places I had never visited, hoping I could live a life of achievement. Back then, I didn't know what a life of achievement meant, but if possible, I at least wanted to accomplish as much as I could.
Looking back now, I realized that in a life of fifty years, doing one thing well was already an extraordinary feat.
If I could do several things well, that would be truly incredible.
Seen that way, I didn't seem to have accomplished as little as I thought. At the very least, I could support my family, take good care of Bai Ze and Duo Duo, and had at least given Duo Duo a life of unlimited dog food. Well, actually, Bai Ze and Duo Duo were the ones taking care of me... But I had contributed too! At the very least, as the person being cared for, I had provided plenty of valuable emotional support, hadn't I?
If life was a battle, then together we would rampage and slaughter everything in our path. I would handle the "ga-ga," because my voice was loud!
But apart from endlessly grumbling at life, all that remained was work.
Write, update, get stuck, and start all over again.
It was easy to foresee the future repeating this way, year after year and month after month. I hoped that one day I could live a beautiful life of writing smoothly every day without getting stuck, but that was still far away.
If I got stuck, so be it. Even stuck, I had to write.
If I had no inspiration, I would go looking for it. Wherever there was some, I would go there—above the blue vault of heaven and below the Yellow Springs. If both places were vast and empty, with nothing to be found, I would try somewhere else.
Somewhere big or small, I would always find something.
If I couldn't find anything, I would look a little longer, pretend I had found something, and force myself to keep writing despite my misgivings.
Now, Above the Mandate of Heaven was about to go on sale. Even though my stockpiled chapters were almost gone and the future was uncertain and nerve-racking, after being anxious for so many days, I unexpectedly felt a trace of relief—a rush like finally being sent to the executioner's block after dragging my feet for far too long.
There was no need to hesitate anymore. The plan was set.
The endless trek was beginning once again. Whether you were ready or not, you had to keep moving forward.
I hoped luck and creativity would continue to favor me as they always had.
And I hoped you would like my meager creation.
After such a long interval, we had met once again at the starting point of the journey. Now, this Sky Rail service—the Doomsday Train—was about to depart. Train Conductor Ji Jue had been waiting for quite some time. Passengers, please present your tickets and board in an orderly fashion.
I sincerely hoped everyone would enjoy the journey.
And I also hoped that in the future, we could meet again at the destination.
Thank you all!
Thank you!
Duo Duo and I both love you, really!
Before you continue