Chapter 373: 184. Epilogue Reflection and a Day Off Tomorrow

184. Epilogue Reflection and a Day Off Tomorrow

Epilogue Reflection and a Day Off Tomorrow

Casual talk—it’s late and I’m sleepy, so no bullet points.

I’ve finished Volume Three; this book now has 922,509 characters.

The book launched on April 10, and it’s been 190 days since—writing 4,800 characters daily (seems acceptable?).

Each volume is roughly 300,000 characters, close to the original estimate.

Aside from meeting the word count, the plot has also stayed true to the initial design—that’s what pleases me most.

Previously, I’d never written more than 400,000 characters; my foundation is shallow.

I often feared I’d suffer mid-book burnout or late-stage fatigue.

Just look at how often I’ve taken breaks—I frequently struggled with unclear ideas, weak plotting, and revisions from editors.

Fortunately, I’ve now reached the hundred-thousand-character milestone.

I’ve accumulated some experience: plot entry points, perspective shifts, narrative structure, cinematic visuals—I’ve grasped the basics.

No need to overly fear collapse midway—though I can’t rule out eventual creative exhaustion and gradual decline.

Why didn’t I write reflections after Volumes One and Two, but suddenly feel like it now?

First, this volume finally shows results.

Before, I was a nobody—even if I wanted to express something, I felt I had no right.

This month, I ranked in the top twenty on the monthly vote chart; once my average subscriptions rose, I gained some confidence.

Second, the plot has entered a new phase.

To balance the protagonist’s age and respect the objective reality that policy changes take time, I chose to skip ahead several years.

While skipping, I might as well say something—a psychological cue to mark an ending, so readers feel the passage of years (I’m making this up).

Future plotlines will diverge more from history.

The new phase brings new challenges; narrative structure must be adjusted.

With some well-known characters now deceased, I must begin crafting new ones.

Also, the protagonist’s direct involvement in military control, land surveys, tax reform, administrative reorganization, official system overhaul, and productivity development—all need deeper elaboration based on the outline.

In short, a new phase calls for a summary.

Third, well, the thing about taking leave—I’m not just used to it, I’ve become accustomed to it; I no longer feel like a coward afraid to speak.

Altogether, I felt moved tonight and wrote this reflection.

Today I told my editor again: why does historical fiction always feel so slow?

At least in my view, there’s always more to write.

Bureaucrats constrained at every turn.

A treasury perpetually empty.

A restless frontier.

Confucianism stuck in place.

The protagonist taking daily rest.

Indispensable supporting characters.

…

I could never finish writing it all.

Even the most detailed first volume covered only about twenty days (some readers may not have noticed).

This is the book’s first problem.

To address it, I jumped ahead several months at the start of Volume Two, and later often skipped by entire months.

And now, I’ve jumped ahead by years.

This is essentially a correction for the original choice of timeline—selected for dramatic conflict, but left the protagonist too young.

Fortunately, it’s resolved now; I won’t end up with “Beijing Conan.”

The book’s second problem: my insufficient writing technique.

This is my second novel; my first ended at 400,000 characters, so my technical reserves are minimal.

I clearly felt it during Volume Two.

I couldn’t write from any perspective except the protagonist’s.

You can see: many chapters in Volume Two don’t feature the protagonist at all.

This once caused me immense difficulty.

Supporting characters lacked immersion; perspective shifts felt clunky; plot transitions were awkward.

Those drafts were my most heavily discarded; I often rewrote them multiple times to be satisfied.

It was then that I first learned to use information transmission to link different perspectives—the basic skill.

It was then that I learned how to construct plots beyond strict historical lines.

There were many such lessons.

Oh, right—the unsatisfying conclusion of the Huguang arc was also due to my incompetence.

Originally, I intended to combine the historical cases of the Fake Chu King, the Robbery Case, and the Unmentionable Case into one plot.

But my ambition was too great; the result became bloated.

Later, I decisively cut part of it.

Hence why some readers felt it was rushed.

During Volume Three, I discovered another flaw: I’m bad at depicting warfare.

It’s not just reader feedback—I personally find it hard to immerse myself in writing battles.

When I write, I’m deeply immersed.

Especially when forcing the protagonist’s personality—it’s usually my own reaction, so I write it effortlessly, with clear mental immersion.

But writing battles feels different—it’s like watching someone defecate.

The author’s perspective doesn’t engage; it’s natural readers feel a lack of momentum.

This is something I must practice seriously.

Of course, aside from flaws, I’m all strengths.

As for what those strengths are, I can’t think of them right now—just give me some face and understand implicitly.

But I’m currently satisfied with:

One, certain scenes have a cinematic feel—though that’s just my personal impression.

Two, I’ve never padded the text, even during breaks—I’ve never released garbage drafts.

Three, some scenes blend seriousness with light humor; I laugh out loud when reading them myself.

Then, uh, I can’t think of more—basically, though I write poorly in places, I’m slowly evolving.

I hope I can keep improving.

Speaking of which, I just checked the outline again—there’s still so much left to write.

I don’t know when I’ll finish.

But I won’t abandon it.

Recently, readers who found me on other social platforms may have seen: I started preparing for this book last year, even jotting down notes.

I prepared for a very long time.

The outline too.

I’ve even thought through the ending—it’s a conclusion both I and a fellow writer find satisfying.

I don’t know how many readers will reach it.

Sometimes typhoons turn back—but readers who leave won’t return.

By the way, writing novels and readers leaving comments—we’re essentially pen pals; if you could treat each other with mutual respect and stop attacking He Ren, that’d be great.

To be honest, I write books, readers leave comments—we’re practically pen pals. If we could all treat each other with mutual respect, and everyone would stop attacking me so much, that’d be great.

The title says: “Day Off Tomorrow.”

It’s late tonight, my mind is still active, I’ll probably sleep very late, and tomorrow I’ll likely be sluggish—I want to start the new volume with better focus.

Mainly because it’s late tonight, and my mind is still active; I’ll probably fall asleep very late, and tomorrow I’ll likely be sluggish. I want to start the new chapter with a strong opening.

Oh, one more thing:

Clarification: the reader group’s operation, group owner, moderators—all are unrelated to me or my family.

Please don’t harass the operators; they say they get constant requests for private info, loans, insults, and demands to see my organs.

Please stop bothering the staff—according to him, they’ve been getting countless messages asking for private information, borrowing money, insulting them, and even demanding to see the author’s private parts.

I advise you not to waste your effort (shrugs).

That’s about it—final request: please vote for monthly rank. Thank you all.

(End of Chapter)

(End of chapter)