When he focused on thinking, time seemed to pass especially quickly.
Before he knew it, dawn had broken, and Jia Xiu had poked quite a few red marks into his forehead with his pen.
Whenever he was thinking through a problem, he always made strange unconscious movements, including but not limited to ruffling his hair, tugging his beard, repeatedly clicking his retractable pen, picking at his eraser, and poking himself with his pen.
The only useful information he had received during this time came from Justina, who kept telling him how she had gained another group of loyal fans and believers somewhere or other. What kind of god did not wait for prayers, but rushed to speak first himself?
It gave him the eerie sense of having hooked a big fish, passed his own doorstep three times without entering, and then pretended to be lost in his own neighborhood.
And the prayer channel was controlled unilaterally. Only Justina could block incoming messages; he could not do the same on his end.
Luckily, this big sister was not a chatterbox. Otherwise, she might have grabbed someone and forced them into conversation.
Pretending not to be there or claiming not to have seen the message would not work either. Divine revelations went straight into one's consciousness.
However, since Justina had not shut off his prayer channel either, Jia Xiu chose to trade "magic barrages" with her.
Justina shared where she had teleported to and which fans she had met, while Jia Xiu muttered about the new ideas he had come up with. In the end, Jia Xiu won.
The facts proved that professional topics were more torturous after all.
Still, although he had rattled off a whole pile of plans, none of them seemed truly highly feasible yet.
Maybe he should stop