Anchor Bai Lande looked at the barrage that was now exploding with activity. It could be said that for the first time in his life, he had not yet fully recovered from the novel.
Especially at the end of this chapter, his heart was lifted to the highest point along with the netizens in the live broadcast room.
For a moment, he was genuinely convinced the author had given Caesar some secret involving a “white moonlight” or a long-lost first love.
After all, the way Caesar guarded that exhibition hall… anyone who didn’t know better might think it contained something unspeakable!
Fortunately, the answer revealed that was not the case, and instead it was related to Gu Bai.
“But it’s still so strange!”
“If the hidden things were not related to Gu Bai, I wouldn’t be so frustrated that he didn’t uncover the truth in that hall!”
“But precisely because every single thing in there was a collection related to Gu Bai, Caesar is just… so infuriatingly lovable and detestable at the same time!”
While Bai Lande was still caught up in the intoxicating intricacies of the plot, the interstellar viewers in the barrage were far more direct in their responses.
[I swear, I want to dive into the book this instant, kick down that locked door, and make Gu Bai see the truth about Caesar!]
[This novel is too abominable. I even dreamed about the truth being uncovered last night! The author hasn’t updated for a whole minute now! When’s the next chapter coming out?!]
[Agreed! When’s the next chapter coming out?!]
The barrage of messages urging updates flooded the screen, nearly covering Bai Lande’s face completely.
After all, when it came to Caesar’s actions at the last minute, most of the interstellar readers couldn’t wait another second to see his regret-filled downfall.
If he didn’t want his “wife”, he could just let go!
After all, none of them had a “wife” yet, either!
Yet, the push-and-pull dynamic of the plot made another segment of readers increasingly captivated by Caesar.
[Sure, Caesar has a bad temper and doesn’t know how to talk… but isn’t he deeply in love?]
[Exactly! Look at the mansion! And that grand piano! Any one of these could put countless real-life partners to shame!]
[He may seem fierce, but in reality, he’s just a pitiful CEO who locks himself in his study whenever he’s upset.]
One comment calling for sympathy toward Caesar practically had a large group of interstellar viewers bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
After all, Caesar voluntarily sleeping in his study and viewing it as an act of protest against his “wife” was just one of the many small, unintentionally funny details in the novel that became even more hilarious the more you thought about them.
[At first, I thought the author was a rookie struggling to maintain consistency in their characterizations. Writing a mature, aloof CEO but accidentally adding contradictory traits. But now I feel like… this is intentional?]
It was precisely this peculiar contrast in Caesar’s character that heightened readers’ anticipation for his eventual downfall.
“So in conclusion, this novel is just so weird,” Bai Lande mused.
“There are no grand war scenes or cunning, evil villains, yet it grips readers’ hearts and minds so tightly!”
As Bai Lande struggled to make sense of the story’s charm, he directly set the novel to the highest-priority update alert on the screen in his live broadcast room.
He absolutely had to read the next chapter!
“Wait, hold on! There’s an author’s note this time?!”
Just as he was about to close the page, Bai Lande noticed an unexpected postscript at the end of the chapter—a note from the author!
‘This infuriating author dared to make an appearance?’
‘I want to see what reason you have for dating to stop updating for five days right after starting the novel!’
Bai Lande clicked on the note with gritted teeth, but his face suddenly froze the next second.
He even felt as though his conscience had been dealt a heavy blow.
—
To Yu Mian, halting updates for five days right after starting the novel absolutely required an explanation, even if updates resumed later.
As for how to calm readers’ frustrations over the hiatus, his strategy was simple:
Be sincere and tell the truth!
After all, he couldn’t just make up a reason, like claiming he had a “heartbroken keyboard syndrome” and his head starts spinning every time he looks at his keyboard. That would only worsen the readers’ blackening value…
However, there was one small problem: the truth sounded even more outrageous.
As an author who had inexplicably transmigrated into a book, transforming into a mermaid and landed in someone else’s aquarium. Then, because of the threat of death, he stayed up all night to write tens of thousands of words, then collapsed and slept for five whole days, hence the hiatus.
If he posted the real reason, Yu Mian felt that his fate among interstellar readers might be even worse than if he blamed it on “heartbroken keyboard syndrome”.
No one would believe him!
As Yu Mian pondered, an unexpected sound broke his train of thought.
[Ding—System reconnected!]
The system, which had been silent for so long, suddenly reappeared.
[Ah, you’re still alive—and you even completed the first task!]
The system seemed genuinely surprised that Yu Mian was still alive.
“?”
“So, you’re still around as well?”
Yu Mian was equally taken aback by the reappearance of this crybaby system.
He thought this unreliable system that was prone to dropping virtual “tears” had vanished for good.
“Any new rewards? Your host desperately needs a little help right now.”
Since it was back, he might as well ask for some props.
[Actually, yes! As compensation for my technical issues, I can grant you one reasonable request.]
The system hadn’t expected Yu Mian to grow so calm and composed after just a few days.
Yu Mian had asked casually but didn’t expect this little system to be so honest.
“…How about revising this draft for me?”
He handed over the rough draft of his explanation for the hiatus, along with his editing requirements:
—Express his tragic reasons for halting updates in a way that interstellar readers could understand.
[Understood. Think of it as sensitive content editing.]
[Even if I hadn’t shown up, the world’s rules would have automatically adjusted sensitive details in your explanation upon publishing. After all, the number-one rule of a small world is for the identity as a transmigrator or details about this to be exposed.]
After scanning the draft, the system immediately realized the issue.
[However, if I handle it, the world’s rules will automatically modify it in a smarter and more humane way. If left to the world’s rules alone, many things would simply be redacted as “□□”.]
“So advanced?”
Yu Mian suddenly realized that leaving this matter to the little system might indeed be more appropriate.
The world’s rules seemed to function like an auto-censorship tool similar to JJ’s sensitive word filter.
As Yu Mian resumed typing his next chapter in front of the light brain, the system contemplated for a moment before analyzing and replacing all the information that couldn’t be disclosed.
To ensure extra caution, the system even ran a backend simulation of the explanation’s effects post-publication, using big data to predict the outcome.
[Positive public opinion: 100%]
[Blackening value elimination rate: 100%]
[Reader engagement boost: 99.9% (composition too complex for full analysis)]
Perfect. The results confirmed it was ready for release.
The system’s data-driven simulations were always accurate.
Thus, the moment Yu Mian published the update, the author’s note at the end of the chapter was automatically edited and replaced by the world’s rules.
At the same time, tens of thousands of readers flooded to the author’s note after reading the update, driven by either frustration, curiosity, or simply the urge to witness the drama.
After all, many were genuinely curious about the person capable of crafting such a captivating novel.
Was the author truly, as some comments speculated, a corporate spy from a rival platform or just a terrorist seeking revenge against society?
Fortunately, Yu Mian’s explanation wasn’t long:
—
[To all my readers,
Due to a life incident, I experienced a small accident that affected my legs and am currently unable to walk or leave my home. As a result, I turned to writing as a means of work.
After the last update, I fainted again without realizing it and almost lost my home. Fortunately, the child next door discovered me in time and assisted me. Only today was I able to log back into the platform again.
After seeing everyone’s comments, I feel very guilty and apologetic. While resuming updates, I will strive to avoid such occurrences in the future. Thank you all for your patience and support!
—Author: A Bowl of Fish Soup Noodles]
—
The system found the automatic replacements by the world’s rules to be perfectly reasonable:
[Died from overworking and was dragged into this world by a system.” → “Life incident.”
“My legs inexplicably turned into a fishtail.” → “Accident that affected my legs.”
“Collapsed after updating and nearly had my aquarium thrown out.” → “Fainted and almost lost my home.”
“Fortunately, a small water bottle helped put me back in water.” → “The child next door discovered me in time and assisted me.”
Perfect!
Once again, it had successfully helped the moment it came online. This host was really lucky to have it.
The system, which consciously assisted the host in completing the task, suddenly felt that it had a great responsibility and a heavy burden on its shoulders.
—
However, the first wave of interstellar readers who flocked to the note were stunned into collective silence.
Minutes passed before the first comment slowly emerged in the comment section:
[Fuck… is this real?! The author can’t even walk?!]
This comment was like a pebble dropped into still water, instantly triggering countless ripples in the comment section.
[I can’t believe it—I’m crying. They can’t even walk and still call it just “a small accident”?!]
[Did anyone else notice how optimistic the author is? They even said, “currently unable to walk”, which means they still haven’t given up hope of standing again even though they are already so miserable!]
Having waited five whole days for an update, the interstellar readers pored over the explanation word by word, dissecting every detail.
To them, it felt as though the author had been in a car accident or suffered some life-altering disaster, losing both their legs and leaving their body severely weakened.
Yet, despite it all, the author had still found a way to write and pursue a living!
