When the Ginseng Spirits were young, they experienced the charm of novels and immediately developed a dream of becoming writers while fantasizing about having a physical book published under their pen name. Later, they discovered power fantasy web novels and were stunned beyond belief, as if witnessing a divine plant, and became deeply absorbed for a long time. But after reading so much, they felt it lacked creativity, so they picked up a pen themselves.

On their first attempt, the document was blank. They wrote two lines and had no idea how to continue. Only then did they realize that the simple sentences they once thought were easy to write were actually incredibly difficult when putting pen to paper. From that point on, they began to develop a sense of reverence for every word.

On the second attempt, their creative passion surged again. They wrote three thousand words in one inspired burst and, after rereading it several times, believed they were the next bestselling author. But after publishing it, it got virtually zero views. After being crushed by cold, hard data time and again, they finally accepted the truth: their writing was genuinely bad.

They tried writing several novels after that, but always gave up halfway through. They had never finished a single work. That is, until they discovered AI-assisted writing. It was like a stool; all they had to do was step on it, and they could see an entirely different view.

They generated their first AI article, tried revising it several times, and published it. To their surprise, it was met with widespread praise.

"Not bad! Better than most AI-written stuff."

"This piece has some originality. Looking forward to the author's next chapter."

They suddenly realized they were clever in their own way. They might not have a talent for writing, but they had a talent for editing. The AI novels they revised turned out better than what other novelists could produce.

They grew even more excited, using AI to mass-produce articles and maintaining a stable, rapid update schedule. Their reverence for the written word was eroded bit by bit. They were like a child who hadn't yet learned to run, skipping straight to a motorized wheelchair and soaring toward the sky.

The distant scenery was so beautiful, and endless praise continued to lift them higher and higher to the point that they believed they had grown wings.

But they hadn't.

It was all an illusion.

They wanted to use AI to generate a revenge-flow novel and then rework it into Xun Ming's latest mastermind flow. But there were too many changes to make. They couldn't come up with a single original plot point, and the hollow, lifeless sentences couldn't build the world of their story.

No... there was still one sentence they could write.

"We surrender…"

The duck waiter beside them widened its eyes in shock and hurried off to find a superior.

When Yellow Duck Boss heard the news, one of his feathers trembled a few times before falling off like a withered leaf. He let out a long sigh and said hoarsely, "So this was your final move, Yujin? To defeat your opponent fair and square."

Several hundred astronomical units away, Xi Yujin saw that the Ginseng Spirits had stopped updating. He figured the variable in his plan was finally eliminated, and relaxed a little.

Yellow Duck Boss said solemnly, "In that case, for the finals' scoring, let the judges rate honestly. We'll give the grand prize for the plot category to Xun Ming as a favor, and hopefully it'll lead to future business with him."

Big White Duck said, "But Xun Ming has three novels, and all of them are the top three in popularity. Are we really going to let him take the top three prizes? That's... that's the licensing fees originally allocated for the Panqu Galaxy…"

Yellow Duck Boss replied, "In business, sometimes you have to lose to win. We still have the fourth and fifth place prizes. We can bundle those for the Ginseng Spirits' licensing fees. That way, the loss won't be too big."

Aboard the Tidal Peace, Xi Yujin was browsing the Flying Duck Novel Network's contest advertisement and noticed that the prizes for the top five were exceptionally generous. He stared at the fourth-place prize, which included reinforced replaceable glass. Thinking about how the Tidal Peace constantly had its windows shattered for one reason or another, he felt a sudden temptation.

He was winning prizes through skill, not plucking feathers off the Flying Duck Novel Network!

On the Flying Duck Novel Network, the five Ginseng Spirits posted a hiatus notice and promised refunds. They vowed that unless they could write something 100% original, they would not pick up the pen again.

The forums exploded in an uproar.

Recently, 100% original has become synonymous with Xun Ming. The meaning behind this notice was crystal clear.

"They've really conceded to Xun Ming."

"I'm also completely won over by Xun Ming. If it weren't for his work, I never would have known that power fantasy web novels had so many tropes. AI writing might have its merits, but it can never replace original writing. The soul of writing is something machines can't replicate."

" Watch out for the Intelligent Machines, you're stepping on their sore spot, hahaha. But I agree with you."

"Xun Ming already responded. He said he never looks back at losers. Although he didn't kick them while they were down, he's still as arrogant as ever. Now that all the Ginseng Spirits have surrendered, there's truly no novelist left who can keep him in check."

"As long as he's willing to mass-update, I'll forgive him."

"Wait, a bunch of AI-assisted novelists I know actually went and left comments on Reader's Digest!"

Traffic on the Reader's Digest official site hit a recent peak.

Whether from Flying Duck Novel Network, the Materialist Archive, or various smaller sites, every novelist who had ever used AI to write power fantasy fiction left a comment under Xun Ming's extremely arrogant reply.

"One day, we'll earn the right to exchange words with you!"

"I've decided to start learning novel-writing from scratch, slowly polishing my favorite plots, characters, and pacing. I've always had a story I wanted to share with readers, but I relied on AI too much and was too afraid to write something entirely on my own. You gave me the courage!"

"I also want to write a farming/management-flow story because I'm a blade of grass. I love soil, and my dream is to cover an entire spaceship with it. Your novel inspired me. I hope someday we'll have a fateful encounter!"

More and more novelists openly declared their desire to learn the genre Xun Ming had pioneered, and willingly acknowledged him as its founder.

When the Ginseng Spirits had previously said Xun Ming might establish a new genre, the might referred to the fact that it would require many novelists to imitate and study the style, producing different works within that category, before it could truly be called a genre.

Xun Ming's writing stood out for its creativity. He had essentially laid out the rough blueprint of his formula from the very beginning, which sparked inspiration in other novelists.

Due to the moral norms of this universe, imitation and study were not shameful things at all. In fact, the novelist being imitated, if copied widely enough, might trigger a mental power anomaly. No official records clearly documented this, as it was only passed on as a legend.

Those bandwagon novelists hadn't even started writing yet when Xi Yujin felt a sudden warmth in his head.

"Hiss," he clutched his head, then looked at his palm as he slowly spread his fingers and clenched them again. "My skin seems to have some warmth to it lately. But I'm supposed to be a star spirit, right?"

After exploring for a while and finding no answers, Xi Yujin gave up. He saw those commenting novelists and figured that, given Xun Ming's personality, he should probably say something more.

Reader's Digest, Literary Leisure column.

Xun Ming: There's no one stronger than the strongest. The peak is always the loneliest. ^-^

The moment this was posted, it predictably drew a flood of comments roasting Xun Ming's personality.

Meanwhile, across the various novel sites, writers began putting up new works, posting drafts while filled with passion and nervousness. Those who could wrap up their old works tried their best to finish them, while those who truly couldn't continue had no choice but to follow each website's regulations. As a result, the web novel scene across the Pangshi Galaxy grew quiet for a time. But someday in the future, it would bloom with an entirely different vitality.

Xun Ming was destined to become a guiding light for many novelists.

And the novelists, still learning and growing, could only leave a heartfelt message on the forums:

"Actually, I really love Xun Ming's personality."

"Could he mock me like that, just once, someday?"

Xi Yujin would probably never know what these novelists were thinking. He was about to move on to his next plan when the Materialist Reading Society suddenly sent him an email.

"A Materialist… thesis defense? I'm just a simple writer, aren't I?" Xi Yujin quickly read through the email and felt a bit troubled.

The Materialist Reading Society's writing contest had always required more than novel popularity. It also demanded that the novel's core themes align with their ideology. Therefore, one component of the final round was an academic defense.

Xi Yujin noticed that the email also came with a related question bank, which was described as a small gesture of goodwill.

The Materialist Reading Society's headquarters was located millions of galaxies away, providing technical support, literary theory, and talent to all of its branches. The Pangshi Galaxy's branch was just a small one with no authority to change the competition format, so they could only give Xi Yujin the answers in a roundabout way.

After flipping through it, Xi Yujin thought that it was somewhat interesting, so he adjusted his planned schedule.

The writing contests of the three courts were all entering their final stages. Looking at it this way, the Flash Empire was actually the easiest to deal with, and also the one Xi Yujin had the highest opinion of. They didn't even pressure Canghai to fill his pits anytime soon. In the Flash Tribe's eyes, a short delay in updates was probably just a brief nap. Readers were not in a rush about physical book publication speeds either, since luxury goods always need to be carefully crafted.

With that in mind, Xi Yujin could optimize his plan a little.

He donned Canghai's alias and replied to Xun Ming.

Canghai: I can't grind anymore…

Canghai: Xun Ming, you're really amazing!

The readers reacted quickly: "It's over. Xun Ming's going to be insufferable for a while now. He beat the Ginseng Spirits, and now the internal Blue Planet literary rivalry is going to be settled like this too?"

"I used to think Xun Ming didn't deserve to be in the trio, but now, I think he's the strongest of the three… Did everyone forget that he actually started with romance novels? His melodramas are the real mind-blowing stuff; they push past what readers can even imagine. I recommend everyone go read them. Super sweet. Even more satisfying than power fantasy."

"So Xun Ming now has four pits in four different genres. Has anyone else ever achieved something like that?"

Some readers who were patiently waiting for Canghai to fill his pits thought that Canghai was the most normal of the trio, actually praising Xun Ming so openly and graciously. Did he forget how Xun Ming had equally looked down on every Blue Planet novelist?

"I wonder how Xun Ming will respond. He'll probably frame Canghai's compliment and hang it on his wall. I'm scared to look. But I'll say it a million times over: Canghai's Ancient Tomb Code is a million times better!"

But Xun Ming's reply was beyond every living being's expectations.

Xun Ming: You're pretty amazing too.

Canghai: No, no, no, filling even one pit is exhausting for me. I'm still stuck in my little black room.

Xun Ming: I'm probably in the black room next to yours. Yujin is just too ruthless.

Canghai: Let's hang out once we're both out! You can write so much and keep the quality so high; I haven't had any inspiration lately. Reading your updates makes me happy, and I'm really looking forward to more.

Xun Ming: Mm. That's not… actually, your Ancient Tomb Code is really well-written. You've woven in so much folk culture, exploring underground ancient tombs through text. It's unpredictable and full of life-and-death tension, yet entertaining all the same. The amount of research you have to do far exceeds mine. Of course, I'm not admitting you're amazing or anything. I'm just saying you don't need to do this. I've always looked down on every novelist equally; it's nothing personal. You yourself… are already amazing.

Canghai: Whoa.

Xun Ming: I also bought your book. No big deal, just had some free time.

Readers from various IPs:

"Whoa."

"Whooooa."

"If I admit that my writing is terrible right now, will Xun Ming compliment me? Asking for a friend. Urgent!"

"I didn't expect this side of you, Xun Ming."

"Canghai's compliments are so sincere. If I were Xun Ming, I wouldn't snap at him either."

Amidst the flood of readers joking around, one reader noticed that a reply from Yongye seemed to have been buried. They quickly scrolled back to find it.

Yongye: I didn't withdraw.

Apparently realizing his reply wasn't very visible, Yongye posted again.

Yongye: Ridiculous. I didn't withdraw.

Xun Ming: @Yongye, Fine. Let's play another round.

Canghai: Hahaha @Yujin, if you're not going to intervene, I'll just sit back and watch the show~

Xi Yujin donned his different personas respectively. He simulated different speaking styles for each personality, gradually engineering dramatic shifts in their relationships.

He needed attention. He needed buzz. In terms of promotion, "a great writer produced a great novel" versus "a great writer wrote a great novel just to diss his friend" would attract entirely different levels of interest.

With his deliberate orchestration, more and more eyes turned toward the stage he had built with his own hands in cyberspace.

It was time to bring out the Yujin persona. Although this alias had mostly been associated with writing motivational pieces, which didn't exactly scream prestige, that was fine. Crafting personas was a fundamental skill for any novelist.

"But Yujin shouldn't interact too much with the other personas," Xi Yujin carefully revised the upcoming acts of his scripted drama. "Yujin is more like me, after all. Having 'me' mingle with a bunch of virtual identities feels like playing cyber house in the interstellar age…"

The name Yujin was inherently different from his other aliases. The more he wrote, the more complex his emotions became.

Finally, he set down his pen, buried his face in his hands, and sighed:

"I’m doomed. Self-inserting is way too cringey."

He let his two Typing Machines continue working diligently while he went out to relax.

Gano was also working diligently. There were currently two translated versions in the common languages of the Pangshi Galaxy. Xi Yujin had looked over parts of the manuscripts; one language was as wild and illegible as a doctor's handwritten prescription, and the other was composed of dots that would trigger trypophobia. He promptly gave up any idea of learning either language. The Nomad language, however, had absorbed elements from many different nomadic peoples' languages, making it simple to learn with flexible grammar. Any species could understand a bit of it, making communication more efficient.

When Gano saw him approach, his expression seemed to shift slightly. Xi Yujin thought to himself that since their first meeting, Gano's expressions had become much richer.

Gano set down his pen and said, "Yujinno's workload has surged recently. Have you been resting well?"

"I've been working on this." Xi Yujin handed over the manuscript for House of Lies.

Gano took it and recalled the main plot of this web novel: a person who fabricates numerous identities to toy with the entire world. Xi Yujin's close friend always came up with novel ideas that no one had heard of before.

"Things are going to get very busy from here on," Xi Yujin said. "Thank you for staying by my side, Gano."

Xun Ming and Yongye were going at it again!

This time, the two novelists seemed to be fighting with genuine fury, with no public interactions anywhere.

The Flying Duck Novel Network and the Materialist Archive each backed their respective novelist, pouring all their promotional resources into the competition.

Rumor had it that the two came from the same place, lived on the same ship, and were locked in separate little black rooms to finish their drafts. By now, no reader could pinpoint what had started this literary duel.

At first, it had just been a casual, sweeping comment, and the two protagonists of the duel even discussed their new novel outlines together. Just a moment ago, one of them had been making peace with another novelist.

Human nature is complex; there's only so much you can see through the StarNet. Onlookers read those ambiguous remarks, let their imaginations run wild, and wished they could find the people involved and demand answers in person.

Xun Ming updated in a hopscotch pattern: sometimes posting three chapters of Chaos Gale, then jumping to update House of Lies, and even adding new chapters to Fairy Tale of a Life and Death Romance.

Plot-driven power fantasies tend to have expansive settings. Even after cutting many unnecessary subplots, the main narrative was still very long.

As for Fairy Tale of a Life and Death Romance, it was approaching its conclusion. To countless readers' surprise, Xiaoming and Lihua actually got a happy ending. They had pushed through every obstacle along the way, and now, all that remained was piercing through that last paper-thin barrier to be together.

Readers following Xun Ming's updates across different novels felt like they were splitting into multiple personalities, which only deepened their respect for Xun Ming's ability.

Yongye's habit, on the other hand, was to finish one case, rest briefly, then start another.

With each new case, Mr. Zhong drew a little closer to Mr. Shi.

In the previous case, Mr. Zhong followed a tip from Mr. Shi to a theft scene. A family's hard drive containing important data had gone missing, and Family Member A was frantic. Mr. Zhong proposed searching a spaceship that was scheduled to be incinerated, but when the door was opened, a corpse fell out. The autopsy showed that the person had died several days ago, yet no one had entered the ship earlier, and none of the family members had died. So who was this corpse, and where was the missing hard drive?

The theft case turned into a locked-room murder. The family was uncooperative and considered the hard drive more important than a human life, so they lied multiple times. Mr. Zhong faced numerous obstructions and was reminded of the trauma from The Nursery Rhyme Murder Case. At one point, he even suffered from splitting headaches. Fortunately, the sheriff arrived just in time. After causing a huge commotion, a new lead emerged: the corpse had previously sent a blackmail letter to one of the family members, Member C, demanding money in exchange for the hard drive.

After assisting with the investigation, the police identified the notorious Family Member B as the killer. This person even confessed.

But Mr. Zhong remained uneasy. He asked the sheriff for help staking out the family's home, and finally found evidence that two family members had had contact with the deceased. He concluded this was a joint crime.

So he stepped back in, organized the evidence, and pointed his accusation at one of the suspects: Member C. His proof was the missing hard drive, which he had already found. After the police examined it, Member C was arrested.

That night, Member A secretly went to the evidence room, planning to swap their own hard drive with the one in evidence. But they were caught by Mr. Zhong and the sheriff, who had been lying in wait. Mr. Zhong revealed that Member A was the true killer, and that arresting Member C had merely been a ruse.

It turned out that the hard drive contained confidential files belonging to a certain corporation. The deceased intended to sell it to a competitor of that corporation, namely Family Member A, who wanted to buy it but didn't want to pay.

The deceased then approached the infamously violent Member B, who attacked and knocked the deceased unconscious on impulse, then fled in fear. Meanwhile, Member C witnessed the incident, took the hard drive from the unconscious body, locked the person inside the spaceship, and planned to let them burn along with it.

However, Member A happened to visit the same spaceship that was about to be incinerated. Finding the deceased still barely alive, they decided to finish the job. Member A was the one who dealt the killing blow, but couldn't find the hard drive. So they filed a police report claiming that their hard drive was stolen, hoping this would scare the second thief into inaction. While Mr. Zhong continued surveilling the family, Member A forged the blackmail letter and pinned the blame on Member C.

When Mr. Zhong arrested Member C but presented a new hard drive as evidence, it raised Member A's suspicions. Member A then tried to sneak in and replace the hard drive, only to be caught red-handed.

The truth was revealed, but Mr. Zhong felt no joy.

 

[

Mr. Zhong: "I don't like using deception to solve cases. I don't want to become more and more like Mr. Shi."

Sheriff: "You're on the side of justice. How could you possibly be like your childhood friend?"

Mr. Zhong: "What if one day, I'm not on the side of justice?"

]

 

This Unidentified Corpse Theft Case didn't feature any particularly astonishing criminal techniques, but its logical reasoning was rock-solid. It offered a different kind of reading experience.

Readers felt like they had entered a logic maze. They were thrown off course by Yongye's distractions at every turn, only for Yongye himself to draw a bright red line to the exit, making it unmistakably clear: this was the truth.

Readers eagerly discussed the plot:

"This is a classic Yongye-style detective novel with a clear three-act truth structure. Act One is the truth found by other investigators, like the sheriff, which is usually false. Act Two is where Yongye piles all the clues right in front of the reader, trying his hardest to mislead. Act Three is where Yongye, through Mr. Zhong, reveals the real truth and tells you everything before was a lie."

"Now I understand why Yongye and Xun Ming could end up clashing. Yongye's three-act structure is a form of showmanship in itself; he must be a very proud novelist too."

"I actually prefer cases where the logic is more straightforward. I didn't dare say this before, but the method in The Nursery Rhyme Murder Case was a bit too unbelievable. There were some hard-to-figure-out plot holes, and the impact was more of an emotional shock than logical satisfaction."

"I have a faint feeling… Web novels have so many genres. Could it be that detective novels have internal subgenres too?"

Detective novels were unheard of in this galaxy. Everyone was reading it for the first time, so they basically took Yongye at his word. Hardly any novelists were copying the style yet, and those who tried were still at the stage of studying his techniques. The most enthusiastic speculators among the readers might well become the new detective novelists of the future.

"If detective novels have internal subgenres," one reader suddenly had an idea, "could there be a subgenre where the reader and the detective start on equal footing? I'd love to try solving a case with all the clues laid out in front of me. Of course, I'm just daydreaming here…"

"That sounds incredibly hard to write."

"I can't even imagine such a thing existing."

"Right now, only Yongye writes detective novels, so maybe we can hope for it."

"It'll probably only happen once imitators emerge. Yongye can't possibly exhaust every possible case formula, right?"

"Wait... Yongye's new case seems to use a completely new method!"

Readers occasionally discussed the classification of detective novels, but mostly they were eager for the content of Yongye's next case.

Yongye updated frequently, and he barely rested before releasing a new case: The Assembly Poisoning Case.

Mr. Shi once again invited Mr. Zhong to the next crime scene, and Mr. Zhong arrived as expected.

This time, the murder method was baffling. The victim had died of poisoning in front of everyone during a gathering, so every person present was both a witness and a suspect. During the autopsy, strange ligature marks were found on the body.

Based on witness testimonies, no one could be ruled out. Mr. Zhong reasoned that since Mr. Shi was involved, this couldn't be a simple poisoning case. So instead of focusing on the poison, he investigated the ligature marks, simulating the force and approximate height of the person who could have made them.

During his second round of private interviews with every witness, Mr. Zhong gathered more details. Then he assembled everyone at the crime scene and announced that he had found the killer.

The killer was everyone.

They had all lied, creating a situation where "everyone was a suspect, so no one could be found guilty."

The deceased was a vile criminal who, through financial dealings, had served only five years in prison before being released. But what about the children the deceased had harmed? Five years later, those children hadn't even reached adulthood. They and their families would live under that shadow for the rest of their lives. Therefore, these relatives changed their identities and, under Mr. Shi's guidance, laid a trap for a year.

They lured the deceased to this gathering. That night, all of them held the victim down and forced poison down their throat, forced down years of pent-up rage along with it.

They were certainly guilty. If Mr. Zhong exposed them, they would go to prison, and the powerful family behind the deceased could make their lives a living hell.

What should Mr. Zhong do?

Mr. Zhong, the man who had always upheld justice and sworn to clear the names of every victim, hesitated for the first time.

The readers outside the story were equally agonized.

In the end, Mr. Zhong silently walked away, allowing this poisoning case to become a perfect crime. As he left, his shadow stretched long behind him.

 

[

Mr. Zhong walked to the end of the corridor when a familiar voice suddenly called out:

"Hehe, another puzzle solved. How delightful. Sometimes, we have no choice but to become the judge and the executioner ourselves. If there is no fair court, then we will strike the gavel ourselves."

It was Mr. Shi.

"I'll be waiting for you at the next scene…"

BANG!

A gunshot cut off Mr. Shi's monologue. The sheriff, who arrived late, had shot and shattered the gramophone beside Mr. Zhong.

"I'm fine," said Mr. Zhong. "Let's go."

]

 

After The Assembly Poisoning Case concluded, readers not only marveled at Yongye's introduction of a collective murder scheme but also debated the characters' relationships. Mr. Zhong's character grew more three-dimensional with every case: always silently observing clues, adhering strictly to moral principles, and occasionally suffering headaches from the shadows of his past. Readers who had followed along this far had unknowingly developed a real attachment to him.

"Waaah, Mr. Shi is way too formidable! Mr. Zhong's mental state is deteriorating with every case. I'm so worried. Thank goodness the sheriff is there. Those two have been partners since the first case; they'd better be okay by the end! I've already forgiven the sheriff for constantly misleading me."

"The sheriff was actually hinting that the suspect wasn't the real murderer."

"The threads connecting Mr. Zhong and Mr. Shi are so intricate. I can't wait for their final showdown."

Some readers recalled that Xun Ming had previously drafted an outline for Yongye, one where both Mr. Shi and Mr. Zhong died. At that time, readers didn't have strong feelings about either novelist, so they treated it as idle gossip.

But now, remembering that detail, some found themselves jolting awake in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat…

Maybe, for the readers' sake, Yongye would not reconcile with Xun Ming?

Most newer readers didn't understand this small group's concerns and were clamoring for the two to fight harder! They even went to provoke Xun Ming, hoping it would get him to update more.

And Xun Ming did update more.

But he also opened a new pit!

Xun Ming: Filling plot holes was never my forte. I hear a certain someone's case formulas are quite innovative. Well then, I present to you: Million Gods' Wager. What does a power fantasy look like when taken to its absolute limit? It's Like this.

As a form of fast entertainment, power fantasy web novels have one ultimate core: getting something for nothing.

 

 

Author's Note:

These two cases, I'm not sure if I should reveal the inspirations behind them… If I do, wouldn't that be spoiling things for readers who haven't read the originals? How about everyone just guess?