Su Ming's Literary Accomplishments

Price's White Graupel Cavalry and Emilio's City Guard Cavalry, combined, numbered over a thousand, with more than a hundred Intermediate Rank combatants. Even with this strength, they suffered losses against Jimite's weakened remnants; it's likely the two were outmaneuvered.

"Most of the Lords' Alliance's army has deserted," Zijin said. "However, they lost almost all their supplies and weapons, and it will be difficult for them to recover for a long time. As for the Red Fruit Slope unit that impersonated the White Graupel Cavalry, they have dispersed and gone into hiding."

"That was really efficient!" Su Ming exclaimed. "Didn't they catch Jimite himself?" he asked.

"Of course not," Zijin said. "Don't you know he's a cunning old fox?"

Given Jimite's character, this was a predictable outcome. As for Emilio and Price, unless they made a serious mistake, Dafulin wouldn't actually behead them, but she would punish them.

This is what they deserve.

"Price has a large amount of spoils at the Lords' Alliance's base and asked if we need them." Zijin pulled out a list and handed it to Su Ming.

Su Ming browsed through the materials; Zijin had already selected a few, but not many caught her eye. Su Ming took out a pen and circled the more upscale metal items. "Perfect for adding to my material library."

Su Ming returned the list to Zijin. Zijin used the repaired communication tower to contact Price's command post and sent the list over.

We quickly received a reply from Price stating that "the packing list has been received and shipment will be arranged immediately."

Incidentally, the current communication tower of the Youth Civilization is officially designated as the "Third Logistics Department of the White Graupel Cavalry of the Cold Mountain Kingdom," so it's perfectly legitimate for them to coordinate the dispatch of supplies.

****

Miao Xin contacted Su Ming, and Sangzi Studio reported back. This was the new IT service team that Ling Wen had arranged for them.

"I really liked that Millet Studio before," Su Ming said. "They actually managed to solve and upgrade the White Bone Mark."

"That's a team from the Academy of Agricultural Sciences," Ling Wen sighed, wanting to say something but remaining silent.

Academy of Agricultural Sciences? Su Ming was too lazy to find out which alias it was; he figured they were all just doing the same thing.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?" he asked Ling Wen.

"They coordinated four supercomputers and worked with thousands of programmers and mathematicians; they certainly did a great job with the White Bone Mark," Ling Wen said. "But here's the problem. Su Ming, there are other things involved, which I can't discuss from my position, but someone will come to talk to you soon and explain things clearly."

"Alright, let me get the Doomsday Locomotive sorted out," Su Ming replied. "We need to get it back up and running as soon as possible in this other world."

"Certainly."

Su Ming opened the chat software, and "Sangzi Studio" sent him a completed Xiao Cheng: based on the data of the new locomotive, a model for load and speed calculation was created.

Su Ming unfolded his phone and ran the program directly on it. Connecting with Ling Wen had at least one advantage: they, who had always used crappy phones, were now fortunate enough to be using tri-fold phones.

By inputting road data, load, and resupply plans, the software quickly produces results, and including the return trip, the remaining journey can be shortened by at least twenty days.

"Great!" Su Ming switched back to the Youth Civilization's work area. "Zijin, the data is in. After the new locomotive is modified, our tunnel excavation time can be extended to more than a month."

"Oh?" Zijin did some mental calculations. "So, I don't need to deceive Dafulin anymore?"

"Actually, there's still a slight shortfall," Su Ming said, "But now, whether on Earth or in the Northern Lands, the resources we can utilize have increased significantly, so we should be able to make up for it!"

Zijin was quite pleased. "That's right. If we offend Dafulin, we'll pay the price later."

"Hey, weren't you the one who championed this plan in the first place?" Su Ming said, displeased. "I thought you were fearless."

"No way," Zijin admitted frankly. "I didn't expect the second princess of the Cold Mountain Royal Family to be such a difficult type. Making an enemy of someone as intelligent, resourceful, and persistent as her is very troublesome."

"Miss Zijin, I'm curious about something," Su Ming said, "In the past few months, I haven't encountered any easy enemies while following you, have I?"

Zijin blinked. "Is that so?"

So, where are the "easy" enemies to provoke?

"Perhaps they were all accidentally killed?"

****

Su Ming was a little more relaxed today, so he went to the Doomsday Locomotive workshop site again.

Inside the huge factory, steel and equipment were laid out, and machines and people moved about. The workshop was warm, even in winter, and most workers were only wearing a coat.

The Doomsday Locomotive was disassembled to the point of being unrecognizable. Workers were divided into several groups, striving to fulfill a completely incomprehensible requirement from a bizarre client.

To expedite the process, staff are now working in three shifts. The factory has closed several other production areas to relocate personnel.

Small holes are now being drilled into the smooth protective plate, and diamond-shaped bases are being welded on. The gantry crane above is moving slowly, and taut steel cables are transferring components; several workers are positioning the components around the perimeter and directing the lowering with hand gestures.

Not far to the side, a row of electrical cabinets had been removed, and several workers were modifying the circuits and reorganizing the logic control. Several engineers were also working on their laptops, rewriting the industrial control program.

"Why delete the lubricant detection and related alarms?" an engineer asked, puzzled.

"I also need to make the touchscreen reject horseshoe-shaped touch controls." Another engineer was equally baffled, "Would a horse get into the cab and start randomly pressing buttons?"

On the locomotive side, someone shouted, "Power on the blower for testing!" The workers quickly stepped back, and the electrician cleared the circuit breaker. An indicator light on one circuit lit up, and a set of fan blades started spinning in unison.

Su Ming glanced at it; everything was rotating Clock Hand.

One worker said to his coworker, "I told you I wanted to change the camera."

"How is that possible? My output is connected in sync with the generator's—it must be the inverter that's set to the reverse sequence."

"I'll bet you a pack of cigarettes, you dare!"

No gambling!

The electrician cut off the power and pulled out the isolating switch. Everyone continued working, quickly investigating the problem.

--

"[Miao Xin, take over.] "Su Ming suddenly said.

Disconnecting from the Little Spiky Head, her gaze returned to the work compartment. Zijin looked up at him, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, just a bit sentimental." Su Ming wiped the corner of his eye with his fingertip; the scene just now reminded him of his time on Earth.

The enhancement of the White Bone Mark actually brought a side effect: if Su Ming's emotional fluctuations were not carefully controlled, they would cause ripples in the mark's energy, which Zijin couldn't possibly be unaware of.

He's starting to understand what Miao Xin and Youhai are feeling now, as if Nether Sea has become an emotional indicator. This situation won't gradually disappear until he becomes familiar with the amplified imprint energy.

It wasn't just Zijin who needed to adapt to the upgraded White Bone Mark.

Zijin didn't press the matter further, instead changing the subject, "Why did you have Qiluo buy printing paper and ink in Bubing City?"

"I ordered a large printing press from Earth, and it needs to be compatible with the paper here." Su Ming said, tapping his head. "I almost forgot if you hadn't mentioned it. There's something I forgot to tell Miao Xin."

He turned on his computer and found the outline of the novel he had written before.

"A large printing press?" Zijin asked, puzzled. "We have enough printers now."

"Used for printing and selling books," Su Ming said.

He reconnected with Miao Xin, asking her to help him find some online writers and commission articles.

[Commissioned article?] Miao Xin asked, puzzled, [You're so young, and you're already writing your own autobiography?]

"No, it's about writing short stories set in another world, 50,000 to 100,000 words each," Su Ming explained. "Write according to the outline I gave you, one hundred stories to start with. The quality doesn't need to be high, and the pay shouldn't exceed 8 yuan per thousand words."

Su Ming used the Little Spiky Head's phone to record the outline he had cobbled together, such as:

The Ritual Under the Robe

Temple Investigator

Sister Nun's Room

Night Shift Church

The plots differ, but without exception, they are all lowbrow stories containing a large amount of dark and obscene content about the Temple of Light.

[Wow, that's amazing!] Miao Xin exclaimed in admiration. [You're so depraved, so promiscuous! I didn't realize you were such a repressed pervert.]

[Nonsense, if it's not exciting, how can it attract viewers?] Su Ming said.

Su Ming was disgusted when the Church of Light tried to use that historical narrative on him.

Compared to this, Su Ming is no longer sleepy! With a mix of cheap, low-brow literature and intimate storylines, coupled with the low cost and high productivity of modern printing lines, Su Ming is confident that he can penetrate the cultural market of this other world to a level that his enemies can only dream of.

The temple can rewrite "official orthodox" documents, but the sheer volume of traffic brought by its massive audience will overwhelmingly sweep away public opinion like a mudslide. And some of the "masterpieces" will still circulate in "high society."

[Miss Miao, what advice do you have?] Su Ming was somewhat displeased with Miss Yuanling's pointing and whispering.

Miao Xin actually wanted to revise it, but ultimately gave up. [Never mind, the novel I'm reading about flower markets is probably too advanced for otherworldly beings.]

Su Ming didn't understand this field, but he wisely didn't ask and quickly finished typing out the world background and story outline.

"I'll go find Ling Wen; their channels should be faster," Miao Xin said.

[good.]

****

Miao Xin quickly replied, but Ling Wen scoffed at Su Ming's plan and offered their revised proposal:

Incense Burning and Aphrodisiacs: The Truth Behind the Naked Exorcism Ritual

The Pope's Staff: How Do Handsome Young Men in White Manipulate the Millennial Holy See?

The Confessional in the Night: Ten Rounds of Night Lessons the Nuns Dared Not Speak Of

Blasphemy: An Investigation into the Collective Cases of Claims of "Conception by the Holy Spirit"

Silvie the Failed Nun

Following that are color illustration design schemes, with a text-to-image ratio of 1:1, and there are even dedicated picture books.

"[How did it turn into investigative literature?]" Su Ming asked.

[Sister Ling Wen means that the copywriting should give readers the feeling of an investigative news report, significantly raising the audience's level.] Miao Xin said, [Let them enjoy the pleasure of critically analyzing from a high vantage point while reading.]

But what about the underprivileged?

[Don't worry—those people are illiterate anyway; illustrations and picture books are the way to go!]

Su Ming then realized his mistake. The literacy rate and cultural awareness in this other world were vastly different from those on Earth, with the majority of the lower classes being illiterate.

Those who are literate naturally belong to the relatively "upper class" in this other world, and they need to be provided with both dignified appearances and the satisfaction of sensual desires.

Okay.

The plan is still missing one link: efficient translation between the two worlds' languages. Once this is achieved, even if Su Ming loses in the other world without a censored god, his hometown's entertainment industry will not lose face!

****

Bubing City.

As the largest city in the central Icefield, the city is filled with a strong festive atmosphere. Passing through the tall city gate, one is greeted by red bricks and white roofs. The biting cold wind is blocked by the city walls, and bonfires can be seen everywhere - this is the core custom of the Frostflame Festival in the Northern Lands.

Frost congeals into auspiciousness, and flames from the disc player dispel the gloom.

The city was much warmer, and the trio took off their cloaks.

Younier, who has lived on Brown Gold Island for many years, was very surprised and curious about the bustling city in this other world, asking questions and looking around.

"Su Ming asked me to buy printing paper!" Qiluo said to the other two. "Meet us at the entrance of the banquet hall—no, the prayer hall!"

Before the two could answer, she vanished in a flash.

Hansite sighed helplessly and could only wander around the city with Younier. He had a ring worth a thousand gold coins in his pocket and had originally planned to find some fun, but seeing Younier's unfamiliar and curious look, he had to give up.

He pulled out a few silver coins. "Shall we eat something to tide us over? The Frostflame Prayer Meeting at the Temple of Light doesn't start serving food until after nine o'clock at night."

"Yes, Mr. Hansite," Younier replied happily, and began looking for a suitable food shop on the street.

Meanwhile, in another block, the unicorn ran into a clothing store. When she reappeared, she had switched to her girl form. She straightened her clothes, hummed a little tune, and asked passersby about a publishing house called "Sang River Illustration". Soon, Qiluo found her target and excitedly ran inside.

The first floor of the publishing house was a bookstore, and at this moment only the owner and the shopkeeper were checking the accounts. Qiluo walked over and put down the package she had been carrying.

"Miss, we've already closed," said the owner of Sang River Illustration Publishing House. There were no regular employees working there anymore.

The shopkeeper stood up. "Miss, you seem to be from out of town. It's fate that we meet. What books do you need? I can help you find them."

"I'm not here to buy books," Qiluo replied. She opened her package and took out a stack of drawings. "I've long admired your company; I'm here to sell my drawings."

She slammed her elbow on the counter, and the poor wooden furniture immediately creaked under the weight.

The shopkeeper assumed the counter needed repair and took Qiluo's artwork without much thought. He peeled back the hard cover paper, which read "Motorcycle and Bone Dragon," revealing more than a dozen neatly stacked color drawings inside. The paper was of excellent quality, made of linen, cotton, and gelatin.

This gave the shopkeeper a good impression. He looked at the first painting, which depicted a handsome young man with unusual black eyes and black hair. Behind him was a strangely shaped long motorcycle parked in the snow.

Ordinary landscape and figure paintings? The shopkeeper looked up at Qiluo and couldn't help but wonder if she had really come because of his reputation.