Xi Yujin's interest was piqued, so he decided to take a closer look at how the Peninsula's scholars criticized his works.

Browsing through the countless articles, he quickly distinguished the two dominant literary movements on the Peninsula: Futurism and Revivalism.

Literature could never be separated from the changes of the world, and these two literary isms had both arisen from a failed movement in the Peninsula's history.

After the war, everything was in ruins and had to be rebuilt. Thanks to their resilience and military prowess, the Fangquan Peninsula had secured a prestigious place on the galactic stage.

At that time, a group of Peninsula intellectuals sensed an opportunity. "The next era will belong to literature. We must seize this chance and vigorously develop our native literary culture."

Thus, Peninsula literature flourished and eventually became famous throughout the universe.

But quietly, almost imperceptibly, the AI of the Intelligent Machines began infiltrating everything. Their slogan was: "Use big data to give literature new life."

The Peninsula's writers foresaw the dangers of AI long before anyone else. They immediately launched what became known as the Revivalist Wave, also called the Anti-Mass-Media Movement.

"Mass media has reduced literature to a dying shell. Bestsellers and popularity mean assembly-line production, homogenization, and commercialization. Through mass media, literature has ceased to be the creation of living beings and turned into a commodity manufactured by non-living things."

"In such a world, people can accept only one mode of thought, one standard of judgment. Literary criticism is reduced to a single question: was it enjoyable to read? Was it easy enough to read lazily? Literature stands on the brink of extinction!"

The Peninsula critics first turned their magnifying glasses upon themselves, examining whether their own writing had already been corrupted by mass media.

Then they began criticizing their peers. Did they prioritize reading experience over theory? Did they sacrifice reason in pursuit of romance? Were they writing merely to satisfy popular tastes?

Did you carefully weigh every single word you wrote?

Are you lazily glossing over plot points out of intellectual indolence?

Why did you upload your work onto the StarNet? Are you a lover of mass media?

The Anti-Mass-Media Movement gained tremendous momentum. The warlike Peninsula natives frequently settled theoretical disagreements with fistfights or arranged duels to determine who was right. The movement even spread to distant galaxies.

The Peninsula literary world hoped to leverage its influence and rally everyone against the Intelligent Machines' invasion of literature. Unfortunately, no one paid any attention.

"You've got the luxury of worrying about literature, but we're busy developing technology. We like mass media. Is that any of your business?" That was the response from other galaxies.

One young Peninsula writer returned home in frustration. "I'm so furious I want to drag the Zerg out and beat up the Intelligent Machines with them."

From that point onward, the Fangquan Peninsula semi-isolated its own network, determined to turn itself into a fortress of literature.

Then one day... the flames of war erupted from within.

The Peninsula's writers were all warriors. Only a race willing to fight could survive war. Even after peace returned, they retained the traditional virtue of settling disagreements with a good brawl. But this time, the charge was directed inward.

Young writers, unwilling to accept restrictions, stormed the Central Literary Hall. Together they shouted: "DOWN WITH THE PRISON OF WORDS!"

That night, the deep sound of organs shook the earth itself. It was as though the entire universe breathed alongside them. The music rang from the blackness of night until dawn broke across the horizon.

The young writers seized the public broadcasts and shouted toward the Revivalist critics: "Open your eyes and look at the world!"

"The StarNet already spans the entire universe!"

"Isolation leads only to extinction!"

"We should create newer works and newer, more comprehensive theories! Literature belongs not only to the past and present, but it also belongs to the future as well!"

At that time, the leading supporter of Revivalism was also the Peninsula's most respected literary giant. Listening to the young writers' slogans, he felt his chest tighten.

At that very moment, news arrived from another galaxy: the Intelligent Machines had begun promoting AI-generated web novels.

Blood seeped from his perfectly square body like flowing magma. Ignoring everyone's attempts to stop him, he walked onto the streets toward the Literary Hall plaza.

He radiated authority without anger; his presence was even more imposing than that of an enraged general. The younger cubes instinctively stepped aside.

He walked to the public broadcasting platform, and by then, his entire body was stained crimson. The scene became one of the bloodiest iconic images in Peninsula literary history.

The elderly literary master stood alone among countless opponents, like all the stars cradling the moon. Then he made his declaration:

"LITERATURE IS DEAD!!"

In Revivalist historical accounts, the story ends there, emphasizing the tragic heroism of the Revivalist cause. In Futurist propaganda, however, one additional line is always included. A young cube immediately replied:

"Literature lives on."

Now, since that Peninsula literary master, whose collected works stood as tall as he did, had spoken those earth-shaking words...

A very, very long time had passed.

So much time had passed that the literary master's statue had already undergone 30,282 restorations.

So much time had passed that supporters of the two isms had abandoned physical fights and now insulted each other through songs and poetry instead.

So much time had passed that the Fangquan Peninsula had only one title left, the nearest major civilization to the Deep Space Prison, and soon, even that name would be snatched away by the Starship Belt.

But literature itself endured.

...

"Gurgle." One of the little Rustlings had become so absorbed in the story that it nearly rolled off the table. Fortunately, Gano caught it by one of its spikes and gently set it back down.

The little creature rubbed against him and asked whether the history of Peninsula literature was really that long, even longer than the Rust Clan's.

Xi Yujin thought for a moment before answering, "It's much longer than that. Think of the difference between your own room and the entire Tidal Peace."

"Wow, that's really long..." The little Rustling took another sip of its drink, somehow draining an enormous mug of sparkling liquor.

"Even though the two isms fought so fiercely back then... both still exist today." Xi Yujin compared the thickness of the Future Morning Post and the Ancient and Modern Evening Post.

The Future Morning Post was about half as thick. Apparently, Futurism was now the dominant ideology on the Peninsula.

"Now let's see which side criticizes Blue Planet more..." Still holding a grudge, Xi Yujin flipped through the newspapers despite understanding none of the strange symbols.

Beside him, the little Rustlings copied him, raising their little spikes and scrutinizing the incomprehensible writing.

Gano patted the little Rustlings with one hand, let Xi Yujin lean against his shoulder with the other, spread the newspaper between them, and translated selected articles aloud. Some titles included:

"Examining Xunming's Blue Planet Works from a Futurist Perspective: The Future of Web Novels"

"A Typical Case of Flat Characterization: An Analysis of Yongye's Works"

"Reconstructing Historical Thought: The Historical Perspective of Born Again with the Spring Wind"

"The Expressive Power of Stability and Instability: Anniversary and a New Literary School"

Having seen countless stale literary critiques back on Earth, Xi Yujin instinctively distrusted critics. But reading these more carefully, he found that many were actually thoughtful and balanced. Some were even entirely complimentary.

Could these be undergraduates padding out their dissertations? he wondered.

"I don't only enjoy praise," Xi Yujin said as he folded up the paper. "If critics collected their critiques into books, and writers responded by debating them through essays, both sides matching each other stroke for stroke, that would be fun in itself."

The little Rustlings nodded uncertainly, but they still didn't understand.

What was literary criticism actually for? Travelers explored space, but they didn't criticize space. So why criticize literature? If you didn't like something, couldn't you just stop reading it?

Xi Yujin smiled. "If you really think about it, literature itself has no practical use." He decided it was time to teach the little ones a new lesson.

"For critics, literary criticism offers a second layer of enjoyment. An ordinary reader experiences only the first layer, which is the story itself. But a critic gains the pleasure of dismantling, reconstructing, and reflecting upon the work. They can precisely trace the author's thoughts through the writing, applaud at the moments of genuine inspiration, and sigh in regret over passages warped by prejudice or constraint. Reading this way feels less like consuming a story and more like holding a conversation with its author."

Xi Yujin explained the more beautiful side of literary criticism. "Thinkers have the depth that comes from thinking. The innocent have the joy that comes from innocence."

A little Rustling asked: "It's so complicated... So would anyone criticize my poems someday?"

Xi Yujin smiled. "If you want me to, I could write a critique myself."

The little creature immediately became shy.

"The Peninsula's critics still aren't quite what I'm looking for," Xi Yujin said, turning toward Gano.

From his expression alone, Gano could already tell that Xi Yujin was about to stir up trouble again.

"I think... all of the Blue Planet's writers should join in."

Xi Yujin paused. Recently everything had gone wrong.

Gano had disappeared. Blue Planet's literary world had nearly vanished. Readers kept confusing all of his alternate identities. Now, he couldn't even find critics here on the Peninsula to argue with.

How could he suffer alone?

Of course, Xi Yujin would never deliberately ruin his own works. Writers should cherish every piece they create. Instead... he would manipulate things between his various pseudonyms.

Some time ago, in a moment of enthusiasm, he had carefully reconciled all of his alter egos. Now, he intended to split them all apart again, every single one except Yujin and Gano. None would survive intact.

The readers deserved a taste of life's cruelty.

Let the flames of war burn once again across Blue Planet's literary world.

...

Editorial Office of the Future Morning Post

A tiny intern editor was chewing on a pen. It was writing an article criticizing one of the Peninsula's literary titans.

After every sentence it sighed: "Ah... I'm such a sinner... How dare I write this?"

There were roughly two kinds of literary critics. One possessed absolute confidence in their scholarship and criticized the world with fearless conviction. The other wanted to slap themselves after every sentence they wrote, feeling they had desecrated the classics.

The intern firmly belonged to the second category. It felt that every word it wrote was blasphemy. After studying literary criticism for years, its initial passion completely faded. Criticism did not merely dismantle literature; it also dismantled its own sense of romance as well.

"I should save up some money and go traveling..." The intern looked at its empty wallet and reluctantly returned to work.

"For now... I just have to survive Memorial Day..."

Memorial Day commemorated the day the literary giant had proclaimed "Literature is dead."

Every writer on the Peninsula published something for the occasion. Even writers who had been traveling for years sent back criticism essays through layers of communication delay. Those traveling writers usually criticized whatever local literature they encountered.

Rumor had it that half of the Futurists who went traveling eventually became Revivalists, keeping the old movement barely alive.

"I can't write another word!" The intern opened its inbox and decided to do something else for a while. It would start by proofreading the submissions from outside contributors.

Then it noticed an unfamiliar email subject. "An alien?" the intern said in surprise. "Our submission guidelines never restricted species... let's take a look."

"This extraterrestrial writer supporting Futurism... goes by the name Canghai."