Chapter Text
Meng Mo's death was nothing sort of horrible. His consciousness was slowly ripped out of existence as Luo Binghe took his final breaths, staring up at Ning Yingying's face in horror. She had sliced off his head and stabbed him through the heart in the night as he was sleeping, a revenge for the madness he'd plagued on the world. After the death of Shen Qingqiu, he'd disappeared and then gone mad, slaughtering wife after wife until only Ning Yingying and a few others remained. It was a doomed end just waiting to happen, but Luo Binghe was too crazed to see it. He wouldn't even listen to Meng Mo, spending his dreams crafting a world with a smiling Shen Qingqiu that always disappeared in a puff of smoke that resulted in extreme rage.
Meng Mo would like to say that his life has absolutely gone down the gutter. It was his last thought, actually, as his soul was torn to shreds with unbearable agony. He cursed the gods and the whole damn universe for the horrid end. Why couldn't he catch a damn break anywhere?
He didn't expect to awaken in a dark abyss. That was never a part of the plan of death. At least, not when your soul gets shattered.
[This system welcomes Meng Mo!]
He bristled when the glowing blue square appeared in front of his face, an unnatural voice shouting out into the echoing blackness. "Welcome me to what?" He hissed. It wasn't a dream because he couldn't manipulate anything, but there was nowhere else he could possibly reside after his physical form was destroyed.
[Sadly, Proud Immortal Demon Way has met the ultimate bad end and must be rewritten or else characters will cease to exist. Meng Mo has been tasked with steering the plot towards the true end.]
"What the hell do you mean by a true end?" Meng Mo didn't even want to bother with unpacking the part that implied this to be a novel. Perhaps that was how the gods saw life. It did seem to be like one twisted game.
[Meng Mo must help the protagonist reach his happy ending for the world to be saved.]
"Why me?" Meng Mo asked, getting fed up with the vagueness of this whole 'mission' of his. "What do you expect a formless being to do to help your plot?"
[Meng Mo must change the public opinion of protagonist: Shen Jiu to lead the plot to its true end.]
"Shen Jiu?" That brat's scum shizun was the supposed protagonist? Well, that could make sense with the horrors Luo Binghe had done. He definitely diverged from the title of hero long ago. He stared at the blue screen, reading the words on it again. "What's in it for me?"
[If Meng Mo does not help, then the world will cease to exist and he will go back to his painful death and oblivion. As well, Meng Mo will be gifted a body if he performs well.]
"Huh," Meng Mo said. "Deal."
~*~
Xu Mingyu shot awake from a horrific vision. He nearly thought he'd be sick as he watched the sect burn to ash, his A'Jiu dragged over to watch the slaughter. He thought he'd lose it when his A'Jiu was torn limb from limb until he awoke, realizing it was a dream. Although, he'd learned nor to mistake dreams for fantasies long ago. Often they were omens or bits of truth and when broken down, it came to one theme.
Cang Qiong fell due to a lack of trust.
Xu Mingyu would have to fix that. He'd have to fix the bonds between their successors or the vision he saw could easily slip into reality. Slipping into presentable clothing, he hurried over to Qiong Ding.
Wang Mingxi sat at his desk in his office, reading paper after paper, signing and stamping things as needed. He quickly scrawled out responses in elegant calligraphic characters, ever the perfect example of a gentleman. When the door opened, he looked up, dark eyes brightening with a smile that didn't paint his lips as Xu Mingyu stepped inside, bowing to greet him.
"Zhangmen-shixiong," he said.
Wang Mingxi chuckled, standing from his position at his desk. He stretched, back cracking even with a perfect immortal body. He walked over to Xu Mingyu, a grin teasing as his lips as his eyes scanned over the tactician.
"Xu-shidi must've been in quite the hurry," he reached out, fingers grasping at the loose strands of hair that framed Xu Mingyu's face. "He forgot to do his hair. That's quite scandalous."
"Aiyah, don't tease me like that," he batted at Wang Mingxi's chest who then let out a light chuckle. "This is important."
"Important enough for you to visit me late at night with your hair down and loose robes?" Wang Mingxi teased, his grin growing larger. "I think Wu-shidi would be quite angry to know that you're here."
Xu Mingyu let out a groan. "Sometimes I wonder why Cui-shibo chose you," he said. "All you do is joke and tease. This is a matter of great importance, Zhangmen-shixiong."
With those words, Wang Mingxi shifted from his joking personality to a solemn disposition. He stared at Xu Mingyu, prompting him to continue.
"I had a vision," he stated.
"Ah, that explains your state," Wang Mingxi commented. "You've never looked this frazzled, shidi."
"Yes, well, I watched our dear sect burn to the ground and my disciple be tortured," he snapped. "You'd be frazzled as well."
Wang Mingxi's face darkened, his eyes hardening as he clenched his jaw. "Is there a way to prevent this," his voice was calm, cold and emotionless in a way that it only got during cutthroat negotiations. The man was a merchant's son, one who knew how to play the game of deals and strategy almost as well as Xu Mingyu himself.
"We must instill trust and companionship between our successors," Xu Mingyu stated. "If we do, they will not turn against each other. It is a matter of making them a true martial family before it's too late."
Wang Mingxi strode over to his desk, sitting down with a huff. "Attempting that may cause much more paperwork," he said. "Ju-shimei will have my head. Our disciples are rather…explosive."
"I'll do the paperwork for her," Xu Mingyu stated. "There's no more time to joke around. We have to do this."
"I know, Xu-shidi," he leaned against the table, dark hair slipping over his shoulders as he gazed up at the tactician. His grin was broad, eyes lit up like stars. "I just can't help but think the process will be rather amusing."
"Just remember to at least pretend to be a dutiful sect leader," Xu Mingyu huffed. "We'll get started in the morning."
As he stepped out the door, Wang Mingxi called to him again. "Don't forget to wear a guan, Shidi!"
(Meng Mo reviewed the scene after Xu Mingyu slipped back into sleep, laughing to himself. He couldn't believe that worked.)
~*~
Shang Ke awoke abruptly to the sound of his phone ringing, playing some idol pop tune into the quiet of his room. He shot up, a snore halfway out his mouth turning into a snort. He was still at his desk, his laptop in front of him and his phone was vibrating next to it, playing the horrendously loud tune. He lunged for it, noticing through blurry vision the cucumber emoji that made up the caller ID. With a groan, he answered.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were writing another shitty novel?" Shen Yuan shouted.
"Wha?" He sputtered, hand searching his desk for his glasses.
"First you get me to read your shitty novel which you don't bother to change no matter how many critiques I give you and now you're writing a spin off?" He yelled. "You better listen to me this time!"
"I'm not writing another book yet," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and slipping on his glasses. He had enough money to pay rent for the next two months so he was giving himself time to formulate another story that he could hopefully see through to a good end. The ending of PIDW had left him crying tears of blood internally and he didn't want it to happen again.
"Like hell you aren't," Shen Yuan scoffed. They'd somehow stayed friends even as Shen Yuan screamed incessantly about how badly PIDW was wrecked. Not everyone has parents to pay their rent, Cucumber-bro. "Look at your page."
Shang Ke grumbled as he opened his page on his computer, only to be slightly stunned. Another novel profile sat next to PIDW with one chapter listed. The cover art showed Shen Qingqiu looking like a perfect cultivator above the title of 'The Scholar and the Sword' . He stared at it for a few moments. He blinked and then stared at it again. He took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt and then putting them back on to look again.
It was still there.
"I…I didn't write that," he said.