Mysterious Revival: Starting by Controlling the Person-Hiding Ghost

Quite a few people had gathered outside the cave by now. It seemed that almost everyone who was supposed to come had arrived.

But Jiang Li looked around and saw no sign of Daoist Priest Simu or Master Huijue.

Zhang Mao had long since changed out of his oil-stained gatekeeper's uniform. He now wore a casual outfit that was a little too short for him.

He Tianxiong was surprised to see the two of them appear. Pointing at Zhang Mao behind Jiang Li, he said:

"Who's he? Why does he look so much like the gatekeeper at my club?"

"He is your gatekeeper. I brought him along to broaden his horizons," Jiang Li said. "I'll take responsibility for everything concerning him. Everything else stays as agreed."

"Since you've put it that way, do as you please."

He Tianxiong said.

"The master and the daoist priest will be here shortly. They'll enter the cave first to lure the ghost away. We'll take the chance to go in and avoid a direct confrontation with it."

Jiang Li froze for a moment at that, but he quickly understood.

Most likely, He Tianxiong had offered so much that Master Huijue and Daoist Priest Simu had volunteered to be bait for the operation.

They would be the first to come face-to-face with the fierce ghost inside the cave.

As the old saying went: birds died for food, and people died for wealth.

But looking at He Tianxiong's indifferent expression, Jiang Li fell silent, feeling a pang of regret.

Still, it was their choice, and he could only respect it.

Suddenly, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from the woods nearby, and two figures sprang out of the shadows of the trees beneath the night sky.

They were none other than Daoist Priest Simu and Master Huijue.

Seeing the group in front of the cave, Daoist Priest Simu grinned and held a peachwood sword almost as big as himself before him in both hands.

"With a good weapon in my hands, I can stand tall. Now, even if the ghost's granddaddy shows up, I'll beat it until it calls me granddaddy. When the daoist temple is rebuilt, my name will be praised by generations of disciples to come."

Master Huijue rolled his eyes and said irritably:

"Four Eyes, spare us the bragging. I've told you peachwood swords are useless, but you insisted on bringing that burden along on your back."

"Being tired is temporary, but looking cool lasts a lifetime. You don't understand, you old bald donkey, so stop talking nonsense." Daoist Priest Simu put the sword back on his back as he spoke, then took out a bell that looked like a small, long-handled chime.

The Three Purities Bell.

Master Huijue also took a dark red wooden fish with a mottled lacquer finish and a small wooden mallet from his robes.

"Everyone, this old monk and this ox-nosed daoist priest are about to enter the cave. Before we do, there are a few things I must explain."

"The Three Purities Bell attracts evil spirits, while my wooden fish can drive them back, allowing us to protect ourselves."

"If you hear both the Three Purities Bell and the wooden fish inside the cave, it means the operation is going smoothly for the time being and the evil spirit is still being drawn away."

"But if you hear only the Three Purities Bell, it means the evil spirit's location is uncertain. You must proceed with caution, though everything will still be within manageable bounds. Once the evil spirit has been lured away again, you'll hear the wooden fish once more."

"The worst case is if both sounds stop. That will mean the two of us old fellows can no longer hold out. At that point, you must stop the operation immediately and use every means at your disposal to escape."

Everyone nodded slightly.

"Let's hope things don't come to that."

A cold wind howled through the surrounding woods. A faint stench of corpses wafted from the cave entrance, and even the most powerful flashlight could not penetrate the thick darkness inside.

Soon after the daoist priest and the master bent down and crawled through the entrance, a clear, melodious ringing echoed through the cave.

Ding, ding, dang, dang.

Before long, a resonant, deep knocking joined it.

"All right, into the cave."

Chen Mo and Shen Sheng, both wearing headlamps, exchanged a glance, then bent down and crawled inside.

"Zhang Mao, let's follow them."

Jiang Li spoke in a low voice and quickly crawled through the narrow entrance.

Zhang Mao didn't dare delay and immediately followed.

Only the messenger and He Tianxiong's group of four remained outside the cave.

"As agreed, we're not going in last. He Tianxiong, you owe us this," Sun Xin said in a low voice.

"Don't worry. I, He, always keep my word. I don't mind bringing up the rear."

And so the last four crawled into the cave in order.

Liu Qingqing walked ahead of them, while Sun Xin and Guo You stood in front of He Tianxiong, separating him from Liu Qingqing.

A few words about this book

To be honest, I had very mixed feelings as I wrote this chapter.

On one hand, I hadn't even finished writing my basic quota of four thousand characters for the day. My stockpile of chapters was shrinking, and the pressure was growing.

On the other hand, there was the direction the book was taking.

I had read every review in the author's backend carefully, and I generally replied promptly to questions I could answer. But it was also clear that there were questions I couldn't answer.

Why couldn't I answer them?

Ultimately, it was because I wasn't skilled enough. There were indeed aspects of the plot I couldn't keep under control.

All I could do was give a wry smile.

There was no other reason: I didn't have much experience, and I hadn't even been a webnovel author to begin with.

Originally, I was just a humble reader of Mysterious Revival. One sleepless night, I came across some videos about Mysterious Revival, and that was when the idea of writing a fanfic was born.

Once I had the idea, I started writing the very next day.

Unsurprisingly, I flopped like a complete idiot.

At first, I clearly didn't know a thing, yet I forced myself to write almost 200,000 characters of nonsense on the strength of that one idea from that night. Then, one day, when absolutely no one was reading it anymore, I dropped the book.

Afterward, I learned from that painful experience and realized that a simple idea alone was nowhere near enough. I also had to work hard on specific aspects.

So I learned from that painful experience and wrote many versions of the opening, totaling a little over 60,000 characters. Each version took a distinctly different approach.

And so...

They all failed. Not one was accepted.

I fell silent for days. In the end, I decided that perhaps I hadn't been persistent enough, so I wrote another opening and chose to publish it directly.

This time, I posted twenty chapters, a little over 40,000 characters.

In the end, I still didn't succeed.

I had understood from the start that I would most likely fail, but the days spent waiting for that failure were harder to endure than I had imagined. They wore away almost all the drive I had built up over the previous month or two.

I was truly out of ideas. I had read plenty of other Mysterious Revival fanfics and gone through the original work several times, but in the end, I simply hadn't developed the skills or achieved the effect I'd hoped for.

After that, I went quiet for a long time, too afraid to look back.

But deep down, I still couldn't accept it. I didn't believe that was how things would end. So one free evening, as if possessed, I began writing another Mysterious Revival fanfic.

This time, I finished it, submitted it, and it was accepted.

It was accepted.

That day, staring at the message on my phone, I almost wanted to tear my entire head off and stuff it into the phone to see if it was real.

When I finally confirmed that it had been accepted, I was undoubtedly thrilled and excited beyond measure.

It meant that the idea I'd had months before hadn't died. It had undergone a "manuscript revival."

But after that day's euphoria, I realized a cruel truth.

Getting accepted was only the beginning, merely the beginning.

When I finished writing a major plot arc, I couldn't help slapping the table and crying out:

"Are you kidding me?!"

Now that I'd finished writing all this, what was I supposed to write next?!

I had to admit, writing a long webnovel was far harder than I'd imagined.

I did my utmost to keep a grip on the plot, racking my brains in front of the computer. As I thought it over, I noticed some reviews had appeared in the backend.

Naturally, I was happy to receive reviews.

But gradually, I fell into deep thought. Faced with the criticism in some reviews, I felt lost and ultimately chose silence.

The transition from reader to author was a difficult one. What I thought and what everyone else thought sometimes differed greatly.

Some readers might have put things harshly, but the problems they raised did exist. I had to reflect, face those problems, and do my best to try to fix them.

But at present, that seemed somewhat futile.

The book's numbers weren't good. In fact, it was performing the worst among the Mysterious Revival fanfics released around the same time.

As the days passed, the number of people keeping up with the book not only failed to rise but kept falling.

I scratched my ears and cheeks in anxiety, trying every way I could think of to save it. But as I said at the start, I lacked experience and greater skill, so naturally, I couldn't change anything in the end.

For two days along the way, I doubted myself so much that I wrote nothing at all and relied entirely on my stockpile.

There was no helping it. My stockpile was nearly gone, and no matter how hard it was, I had to grit my teeth and write.

So the more I wrote, the more negative reviews I received. Sometimes even I couldn't bear to look at them.

But since my Mysterious Revival journey had begun here, it deserved a fitting ending, even if the road there was a little rough.

What I wanted to say was that the author was still trying and would do his best to switch quickly from a reader's perspective to an author's. I hoped everyone would support the book and keep reading. That would be the greatest support you could give the author.

Also, I wanted to thank in advance the readers who had supported this book. Your presence had given the author tremendous encouragement.

Kniyuk

Let Me Up Quickly

Yuanxia Luxue

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Niu Nao

Han Baijin

Bookworm L

The White Doves of the Church Will Not Kiss Crows

Not Good at All

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Priest Xiaoxiao

Americano Wenran

Zhuxu Zhuxu Dandan