As I wrote these words, my feelings were still complicated: there was happiness, but also a sense of loss.
I was happy that I had finally finished my first novel, even though I hadn't reached the word count I had originally planned.
But more than anything, I felt a sense of loss. Attentive readers probably noticed that, from the point when Qin Yumo died, my writing was really off its game.
The last eighty chapters in particular—honestly, the story fell apart.
According to my plan, this book should have ended at around 1.6 to 1.8 million Chinese characters.
There were still plenty of ideas in that plan, but for various reasons, they never made it into the story.
For instance, I wanted Chen Hao to take a bunch of deities and ghosts along to help China compete in the World Cup, finally venting all that frustration we'd bottled up over the years.
For instance, I wanted the Little Charlatan to work his way into the Heavenly Court's management. Attentive readers probably noticed that the story of the Bath Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West suddenly stopped. There was also the story of the Bodhisattva and Li Wanji, the story of the Tathagata's wash, cut, and blow-dry service, and so on.
Then there were the stories about werewolves and vampires abroad. I had originally planned at least 300,000 characters for that section, including making Qin Yumo a vampire after her resurrection. I also intended to write some stories about humans and vampires, incorporating classic scenes I'd seen in Underworld.
And then there was Chen Hao pretending not to love Qin Yumo at the end. I'm sure you all found that very forced. In fact, I also wanted that part to capture the classic scene from A Chinese Odyssey where