Transmigrated Into My Own Novel

Shaoxing, Zhejiang.

Drizzling rain fell gently, and the icy night streets were empty of all passersby.

Inside a cheap rented room, Liu Pan sat hunched before his computer, his slender fingers dancing ceaselessly across the keyboard, the rapid clatter echoing in the quiet.

Liu Pan was an online novel writer, and writing was his greatest passion. It was also his necessity—he had no desire for any other occupation.

The world of web fiction was deep and treacherous; to make a name for oneself was exceedingly difficult. Liu Pan had struggled for years, penning five or six novels, each, in his own mind, earth-shattering and soul-stirring, yet without exception, they were lost amidst the endless sea of books.

His hallmark as a writer was the relentless torment he inflicted upon his protagonists—from beginning to end, sparing no mercy. In fact, he had ended two novels with the protagonist’s death, the agony reaching its peak.

Many readers, after enduring Liu Pan’s stories, advised him not to write such cruel tales. Readers liked to immerse themselves in the narrative; when the protagonist suffered, it was as if they themselves were enduring the pain, and naturally, it soured their enjoyment.

Yet, despite the advice, Liu Pan stubbornly persisted, each book more brutal than the last. To him, tormenting the protagonist was a reasonable narrative device. After all, how could one see a rainbow without weathering the storm?

No one achieves success casually. The protagonist must grow through adversity. The harsher the trials at the start,