Chen Mo looked at the satisfied, hopeful smiles on his parents' faces, then caught sight of his younger sister, Sister Chen Qing, peeking through the crack in the door with curiosity and envy in her eyes. He gripped the bank card and cash in his hands. The warmth of home and his family's hopes no longer felt like a heavy burden. Instead, they became a blazing, ceaseless strength that flowed through his limbs and into his heart, filling him with determination.
He had to work harder. He had to succeed—not only for the ambition that refused to let him settle for an ordinary life, but also so he wouldn't let down this unconditional love and faith in him.
At eleven o'clock that night, the whole family was asleep. Only a dim desk lamp still glowed in Chen Mo's room. He lay in bed, wide awake, the bank card beneath his pillow like a warm brand, constantly reminding him of the responsibility he carried.
He brought up the System Panel in his mind and looked at the steadily rising figures: [Cultural Class Overall Score: 368 (up 87 points)], [Martial Arts Score: 324 (bottleneck; breakthrough needed)], [Physical Fitness: 8.7 (average person: 5)], [Mental Strength: 9.2 (average person: 6)]. The path of Martial Arts required a steady investment of resources. Raising his Cultural Class scores further also meant buying extra study guides and online courses. In particular, Martial Arts training required replenishing his Qi and Blood. At first, meals had been enough; eating more meat could make up for what he used. But lately, he felt that meat alone couldn't replenish what he was expending. His family's hundred thousand yuan was a lot, but if he spent it all on these things, it would soon be gone. He couldn't really use up all his parents' retirement savings.
I need to find a way to bring in more money... Chen Mo stared into the darkness, his mind racing.
Should he try to break into entertainment? He could copy a few popular songs from his previous life or submit a script somewhere. No. This world's entertainment industry was deeply intertwined with Martial Arts. Most celebrities were powerful Martial Artists or had influential backing. Without connections or resources, a newcomer had no way to get started. Besides, producing songs or filming a script required professional equipment and a team. He had neither the time nor the connections, so that path was out of reach.
What about starting a small business? He could resell Martial Arts equipment or nutritional supplements. No, without Martial Artist credentials, he couldn't run any of those businesses. The market was complicated, and he lacked relevant experience. The risk was too high; if he lost money, he'd only make things worse.
That left him with one option: a path with relatively low barriers to entry and low costs if it didn't work out—writing online fiction.
The online literature industry in this world was just as developed. Stories about Martial Arts, supernatural abilities, and adventures among the stars dominated the major platforms, with a huge readership. Traditional wuxia, however, attracted almost no interest. In a world where people could truly split mountains and part rivers, fly through the air, and burrow underground, tales of martial-arts rivalries and hand-to-hand combat seemed "too small in scope." Pure Eastern xianxia and fantasy faced fierce competition too. Their complex settings required a deep cultural foundation and refined prose, making them difficult to handle in the short term.
Chen Mo's thoughts drifted back to his previous life. He remembered a kind of story he had once been obsessed with: "sequence" novels that blended Cthulhu Mysticism, Victorian Era atmosphere, and a rigorous power system. The uncanny madness and supernatural paths hidden beneath the mechanical clamor of steampunk and classical elegance—the step-by-step advancement, with its clearly defined system and ever-present unknown dangers—seemed strangely well suited to this world of flourishing Martial Arts, where mysterious elements like "Psionic Particles" and the "Antaya" also existed.
This genre wouldn't clash directly with the local Martial Arts culture the way traditional fantasy might, yet it could offer readers something fresh and immersive, satisfying their desire to explore the unknown. More importantly, its greatest appeal lay in its vast worldbuilding, gradually unfolding mysteries, and rigorous power system. It was more forgiving of imperfect prose, making it a better fit for someone like him, who had to squeeze in writing time and had no formal literary background.
Maybe I'll call it... Black Tower Prologue: The Puppeteer's Path? A vague idea took shape in his mind, and the title came to him with it. He could borrow classic concepts from his previous life and build a supernatural world whose underlying logic was "Primordial Quality," a localized name for Psionic Particles. The protagonist would consume specific "Secret Medicines" and complete the corresponding "rituals" and "acting" to digest the power, climbing the "sequences" step by step until he reached the pinnacle of the supernatural. The protagonist could be an "outsider" who stumbled upon ancient forbidden knowledge and embarked on an unconventional path to the supernatural. The conflict inherent in that identity would make for compelling drama.
No sooner had the idea struck than Chen Mo began. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake anyone, and quietly turned on the desk lamp, lowering its brightness to the minimum. Its yellow glow cast a small pool of light across the desk. He took a brand-new notebook from his schoolbag. He had bought it specifically to organize his mistakes, but now it was perfect for writing a novel. He decided to use the twenty or thirty minutes of "flexible time" before bed, after finishing his daily study and training, along with whatever free time he could carve out on weekends, to develop the world's outline and opening.
He quickly listed the core concepts in the notebook:
[Power System]: There are twenty-two extraordinary pathways, corresponding to the twenty-two Major Arcana tarot cards. Each pathway has ten ranks, from Sequence 9 to Sequence 0; the smaller the sequence number, the greater the power. Advancement requires taking the "Secret Medicine" corresponding to the next sequence. The medicine is made from special ingredients and must be taken as part of a specific "ritual." Afterward, the user must "act" as someone of that sequence to digest the Magic Potion, or risk falling into madness. The protagonist follows the "Puppeteer" pathway: Sequence 9 is "Apprentice," Sequence 8 is "Trickmaster," and Sequence 7 is "Puppeteer," and so on.
[Worldview]: On the surface, it is a modern Blue Star where Martial Arts flourish. Every country has a comprehensive Martial Arts education system, and the Gaokao places equal weight on Martial Arts and Cultural Class subjects. But in a hidden world unseen by ordinary people, "Primordial Quality" energy is reviving across the globe. Ancient organizations are stirring, unspeakable and uncanny creatures lurk in the shadows, and the ruins left behind by the Antaya conceal forbidden knowledge. The essence of human Martial Arts training is also a crude application of "Primordial Quality."
[Major Factions]: The government established the "Bureau of Anomaly Affairs" to handle supernatural incidents. Its members are mostly powerful Martial Artists who have awakened faint supernatural abilities. The "Secret Cultivation Society" seeks forbidden knowledge, with members from all walks of life and the exploration of "Primordial Quality" as its goal. The "Fallen Eye" worships evil gods and gains power through bloody rituals, making it a destabilizing force in the world. There is also the neutral "Astral Merchant Guild," which monopolizes the trade in supernatural materials.
With the framework in place, Chen Mo's thoughts grew clearer. He turned to a fresh page and began writing the first chapter. The protagonist, Lin Yan, was an ordinary high school student much like Chen Mo himself had once been. His Martial Arts scores were mediocre, and his grades were nothing special. He was largely unnoticed at school. After his grandfather died, he inherited an old ancestral home. While cleaning out the attic, he stumbled upon a locked wooden chest. When he pried it open, there were no gold or silver treasures inside—only a notebook bound in strange metal and an unknown kind of leather. Intricate patterns were carved into its cover, and even when he tried to burn it with a lighter, the flames couldn't damage it.
Curious, Lin Yan opened the notebook. Written in ancient script was the recipe for the Apprentice Sequence's initial Magic Potion. The main ingredients were "Shadow Lizard Scale," "Moonlight Grass juice," and "Whispering Conch Powder." Three common herbs were needed as supplementary ingredients. The ritual had to be performed on a full-moon night in a room without light. On the final page, a sentence in crimson ink offered a chilling warning: "Every advancement brings you one step closer to the abyss; every act means dancing with madness."
The lamplight illuminated Chen Mo's focused profile as his pen scratched across the page, like a silkworm devouring mulberry leaves. He wrote quickly, his pen unable to keep up with the inspiration surging through his mind. Scenes, dialogue, and inner monologues poured out like spring water. He could only jot them down as fast as he could; polishing the details and prose would have to wait. At that moment, he was completely immersed in the world he was creating. Everything outside it had disappeared, leaving only the collision of words and imagination.
The clock hands crept forward. When they reached one in the morning, Chen Mo finally stopped writing. He rubbed his aching wrist and looked at the dense lines covering the notebook. He had filled three pages, completing a first draft of roughly three thousand words. A peculiar sense of fulfillment welled up inside him. He hadn't merely found a possible way to earn extra money; he had also opened up a secret garden of his own, beyond the intense pressure of preparing for the Gaokao. Here, he was no longer Chen Mo, chasing after others. He was the creator, in control of an entire world's fate, free to unleash his imagination and build a new world.
He carefully locked the notebook in his desk drawer, switched off the lamp, and climbed back into bed. Fatigue swept over him like a tide, his eyelids so heavy he could barely keep them open. Yet his mind was unusually energized, relaxed and happy after the release.
The road ahead was still full of challenges. He had to break through the bottleneck in Martial Arts, keep raising his Cultural Class scores, and bear the weight of his family's expectations. Now he also had a new "side hustle" that would require long-term dedication. But there wasn't a trace of hesitation in Chen Mo's eyes—only an increasingly resolute light. The System had given him a chance to change his fate against all odds, his family had given him their steadfast support, and now he had created Plan B to build up his resources. He would take each step firmly and resolutely, with hope filling every day.
He closed his eyes and went over tomorrow's plan one last time: get up at six in the morning and spend an hour practicing standing postures in the neighborhood gym area to strengthen his Martial Arts foundation; focus on weak points in math, particularly functions and geometry, in the morning, and complete two sets of past exam questions; go to the school's Martial Arts Hall in the afternoon and try to spar a few moves with Xu Yunjing, observe her fighting techniques, and learn from her experience; then, after finishing his studies for the day, keep outlining the second chapter of Black Tower Prologue, describing how Lin Yan would search for ingredients for the Magic Potion and his nervous curiosity on first encountering the supernatural world.
The night deepened. A sliver of moonlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and fell into the room. The boy's breathing gradually became even and steady as he sank into a sweet sleep. Beneath his pillow, the bank card seemed to sense his determination, giving off a warm, reassuring heat.
Tomorrow would be another new day. And Chen Mo's own stirring epic of a comeback was being written, page by page, through sweat, ink, and unquenchable determination, on nights and mornings just like this one.
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