Chapter 101: Splattering a Hundred Thousand Words, the Heavens Probe My Heart! (1/4)

Fengxi was completely immersed in writing.

He carried out the Great Witch's demands meticulously.

He not only carried them out, but did so perfectly, flawlessly.

After all, Fengxi is a scholar.

He had spent at least millions of years painstakingly studying poetry and classics; though it didn't help much in fighting, what about writing articles?

He fears no one!

At this moment, as Fengxi focused, splendid essays sprang to mind in an instant.

Then he picked up his pen, composed, poured his feelings onto the page, and finished in one swift motion!

His chest held the thoughts of ages, his wrist commanded the force of ten thousand miles; splashing ink and wielding the brush, everything became heavenly delight.

The little witches present could all feel a smooth, flowing rhythm like clouds and water; during the writing there was not the slightest pause or thought, the whole piece was completed in one breath, making the observers feel a sense of exhilarating satisfaction.

Such writing, and the content was even more extraordinary.

It contained both a review of the past and a look to the future; both sincere self-criticism and high praise for the leader… Moreover, a heart of selfless devotion, concerned for clan and people, leapt onto the paper, using his own mistakes to reflect the era's state on a small scale.

He put forward his view on "seeing the Dao by cutting the three corpses," making clear that after basic cultivators understand the Dao's requirements and obtain their certification, doubts and factionalism inevitably arise, and he explained the importance of fanning the flames and expanding propaganda, how to seize the high ground of public opinion in the present era, suppress the Demon Race, attract massive investment from scattered followers, and support the Wu Clan.

—Although in practice, the Wu and Yao differ little.

But on the surface, the Wu Clan still behaves differently from the Demon Race, not openly advocating cutting the three corpses, not aligning with Grand Harmony, and their conduct is not as ugly.

All of this was condensed into a hundred thousand words.

Finally, this is less a self‑critique and more Fengxi's plan for future strategy.

The height of his thought has undergone a qualitative elevation and transformation!

Having reached this point, his earlier mistakes are now insignificant.

Who is without fault?

To err and then correct is the greatest good!

Fengxi's brilliant pen made flowers bloom, and the little witches watching and reading could not help but beat time in praise, slamming the table in applause.

Reading through, one is involuntarily drawn in, focus heightened; each shining point in the essay either evokes resonance or lets one, amidst confusion, part the clouds to see the sun, feeling the expansive openness and sudden clarity.

As the writing began, the first stroke carried the force of thunderbolts, making the onlookers hold their breath; when the pen lifted, it was like rivers and seas gathering shimmering light—calm yet radiant, beneath the light lay a deeper expanse, inviting reflection and pursuit, boundless breadth and vastness.

When Fengxi set down his pen, the field fell silent; not a witch spoke, as if all were utterly drawn into the world of the text, forgetting self and other.

Only the River of Time outside the warship flowed slowly, its banks and ends unseen, emitting a deep, distant rumble.

Fengxi satisfiedly surveyed his completed hundred‑thousand‑word self‑critique, then turned sideways, looking expectantly at the Great Witch, uttering a muffled "mmm".

One hand pointed at the book, the other at his mouth, as if asking—

"Is it okay now?"

For someone who loves liveliness and activity, a silence order truly is a painful, spirit‑tormenting punishment.

Whenever he could be released earlier, Fengxi would strive for it.

Even if he hasn't yet met Mu's time‑limit requirement for "calm," half an hour.

—As a Great One, what's writing a hundred thousand characters?

Fengxi finished it in fifteen minutes!

Even if it weren't necessary to demonstrate the sincerity of the critique, writing each character and stroke without slack, he would simply manifest the essay from his mind and slap it onto the paper—done.

But doing so would turn even a good thing into a loss, not worth the gain.

When to be lazy and when to be earnest—Fengxi has his own inner scale.

His body kept moving, the constant "mmm" sounds of Fengxi the Great Writer Xi were, to the stagnant atmosphere on the warship, like a fiery fly bursting into a quiet room and instantly disturbing the original calm.

Not lacking were loud gasps, as if tensed nerves were relaxing.

"Good! Good! Good!"

Three successive cheers came from the leader of the female witches aboard the airship—Xiling—she looked at Fengxi's essay and clapped without cease.

"Words sincere, meaning earnest, a loyal hymn… it could serve as a model essay for us little witches!"

She seemed a bit excited, giving Fengxi's self‑critique a high evaluation.

Fengxi instinctively shrank his neck, following Xiling's glowing gaze, only to see it land on the passage in the hundred‑thousand‑word text that highly praised Houtu the Ancestral Witch's perfect moral character.

It seemed…… she was very satisfied, very approving of these flattering words?

"Hmm…" Fengxi wondered, looking left and right at Xiling, "Little sis, you're from the tribe of the Xuanming Ancestral Witch Chief, right?"

"Isn't Houtu the Chief your direct superior?"

"Why are you so excited and happy?"

He indicated he couldn't figure it out, a hundred thousand "whys" popping up in his mind.

Fengxi was at a loss.

Thinking to no avail, he had no choice but to turn his gaze back to the Great Witch, watching Mu hold the self‑critique in hand and examine it closely.

This Great Witch showed little surprise, merely raising his eyebrows slightly at the start—just that.

After all, he is a Grand Luo.

In his long years, he had already experienced far too many strange lives.

Across endless time and space, no matter what kind of outstanding person, he has seen them all.

Compared to Fengxi now, he is thousands upon thousands times more far‑seeing, able to toy with the universe in the palm of his hand, sweep an era and write an invincible name—a peerless hero whose glorious life he also witnessed.

He has also seen far more than Fengxi of those who excel at flattery and pleasing superiors, a special talent whose moving essays he has encountered too many times.

But…

To perfectly combine these two is truly rare, one could say it is a most special oddity.

Mu, while looking at the self‑criticism book and while looking at Fengxi, pondered opening——

"You say you have this ability, if you honestly walk the proper path, is there no future?"

"Our Wu Clan selects and appoints based on talent and ability; we will never, because of temporary flattery and fawning, place an incapable person in a position they cannot handle well… Details may be hard to say, but in the overall picture, each one can do their best."

"The capable will not be suppressed, and the incapable will not be indulged through favoritism… So what's the use of working so hard to curry favor with leaders?"

"Are there any benefits to be had?"

Mu read again the profound, earnest self-criticism article, looking at Fengxi's bright, hopeful eyes, and deep down he secretly shook his head.

As he kept shaking his head, his gaze unintentionally caught the strip of cloth Fengxi had taken off, and he fell silent in his heart.

As he continued shaking his head, his gaze unintentionally saw that Fengxi's forehead seemed to have a brighter mini Houtu, and his heart fell even more silent.

The Great Witch decided to revise the earnest teachings that were already on the tip of his tongue, about to be spoken— the admonition not to let the little comrade go astray— and modify it sincerely.

(End of chapter)