The Legend of the Princess' Counterattack

Chapter 981 The Disaster of Online Literature

Torrential rain pounded against the French windows on the 18th floor, exploding like countless marbles on the glass surface. Su Yao stared at the blinking cursor in the Word document, her fingertips hovering above the keyboard for a long time without falling. Three hours had passed since she updated the latest chapter of "The Legend of the Princess of the World". The QQ icon in the lower right corner of the screen suddenly jumped wildly, and a series of messages popped up from the editor Lao Zhang's avatar:

"Su Yao, what are you doing? Readers' requests for updates have even become a trending topic!"

"The backend shows that you opened the document at 3:00 AM, so why is it still blank?"

"Don't tell me you're stuck again! This is the third time this week!"

She rubbed her aching temple, her gaze sweeping across the gloomy sky outside the window. The serialized novel that had suddenly exploded in popularity three months ago now felt like a scalding iron, weighing down her breath. Her mouse moved unconsciously, and the page suddenly jumped to the work management backend. The chapter list, which should have been neatly arranged, was now a grayish-white mess, with each chapter title followed by a glaring "404 Error."

"Ding--"

The browser emitted a shrill beep, and a new message automatically appeared at the top of the comment section. The blood-red font stood out against the white background:

"The characters should not have the will to resist. Author, please correct the plot immediately, otherwise this world will be wiped out."

Su Yao sat up abruptly, sweat soaking her cotton pajamas. Trembling, she refreshed the page, only to find that all the chapters were blank. Only the message swayed like a living thing, each word oozing dark red ink, trickling down the edge of the screen. Even stranger, the signed physical copy on the shelf was making unusual noises, its hardcover creaking, and the ink seeping from the pages slithered onto the floor, gradually outlining the outline of a human figure.

When Su Yao saw the silhouette of Yun Yao, chained through her chest, she couldn't hold back her screams. Hot tears blurred her vision, and she stumbled towards the bookshelf, only to find the notebook she'd handwritten her first draft from five years earlier lying in plain sight. On the yellowed pages, the words "counterattack" she'd written had been completely crossed out. In their place, the words "submit to fate" were scrawled in red ink. The ink, still wet, emanated a pungent rusty smell.

"Impossible..." Su Yao's voice trembled, "This is the manuscript I locked at the bottom of the drawer, how could it be..."

She clearly remembered the original setting for "Counterattack" recorded in this notebook: Lin Yue (later renamed Yun Yao) was just an ordinary time traveler, without a system or divine power, struggling to survive in the palace relying solely on modern medical knowledge. However, when she signed the contract, the editor insisted on adding a "system cheat," forcing her to rewrite the plot. But now, all references to the system and divine power have been erased from the original draft, as if those magnificent counterattack stories never existed.

The ink-stained figure on the floor suddenly twitched. A stream of black data gushed out of Yun Yao's "wound," spelling out a line of small words in the air: "Su Yao, save us..."

It's Chu Mochen's handwriting.

Su Yao looked up suddenly, realizing the computer screen had been switched to a surveillance camera, focused on a corner of the Supreme Library. Yun Yao knelt amidst the shattered ancient books, her fingertips digging into the cracks between the stone bricks. The shimmering light of the Chaos Godhead in her hair was slowly fading. Chu Mochen half-knelt beside her, his usually stern face cracked. Only half of the Hongmeng pen remained in his hand, the light from the tip fainter than a firefly.

"No..." Su Yao dug her nails deep into her palms. "You have already become the Chaos God, how could it be..."

Before he could finish his words, the screen suddenly shook violently. Twelve golden chains descended from the sky, piercing Yun Yao's shoulders and knees. She threw her head back and let out a silent scream. Fragments of her godhead fell like meteors, each one causing a violent tremor in her small world. Chu Mochen tried to hold her, but was swept away by the chains. When his back hit the stone pillar of the library, he coughed up blood foam mixed with code fragments.

In reality, Su Yao suddenly heard the sound of shattering glass. Looking down, she was startled to find her palm turning transparent, the same black data stream flowing beneath her skin as on the screen. The other books on the shelf also began to crumble, and as the pages flew, she saw countless familiar characters struggling in the turbulent data flow—there was Xiao Cui, who died on her first mission in the cultivation world, the palace guards framed by Liu Yan'er, and even a minor character from a certain small world where she had never officially appeared.

"Why..." Su Yao curled up in the corner, watching her fingers gradually become translucent, "I'm just an author, why should I be involved in your world?"

The old woman's voice suddenly rang in her mind, with the unique stuttering of a mechanical voice: "Su Yao, do you think you are just a creator? From the moment you wrote "Yun Yao squatted by the ancient well to bandage the little fox" in your first draft, you have already been a part of this multiverse."

She suddenly remembered a strange blue light flashing outside her window late one night three months ago, as she typed the ending, "Yun Yao Becomes Chaos God," on her keyboard. She'd thought it was an illusion then, but now she understood it was a sign of the Chaos Godhead resonating with the real world. And now, that Godhead was crumbling, affecting her, the "original author."

The ink on the floor suddenly coalesced into the shape of a bronze token—the very token Yun Yao had received in the Divine Palace dungeon. Small, gilded characters appeared on the token: "The Observer is erasing all instances of 'resistance.' Only you can prove—the meaning of stories is never about submission."

Su Yao trembled as she picked up the notebook and flipped to the last page. There was a photo of her from college, and on the back was written: "To all those who refuse to be ordinary. May we all be our own light." This was her original intention when she created "Counterattack," but it gradually became lost under the pressure of commercialization. Until Yun Yao and Chu Mochen truly emerged from the story, and through their experiences, they taught her: A character's soul is more important than any statistical chart.

"I understand." Su Yao wiped away her tears, grabbed the pen on the table, and wrote vigorously on the blank page of her notebook: "Yun Yao held Chu Mochen's hand tightly, and the Chaos Godhead re-condensed in her palm. Those fallen fragments are just sparks on the road of creation."

As the words fell, the computer screen suddenly erupted in a blinding silver light. All the 404 error pages began to reshape, and the gray chapter list was tinged with color again. The blood-red messages in the comment section screamed piercingly, turning into countless fragments and being sucked into the depths of the screen. Su Yao saw Yun Yao looking up from the library, her eyes rekindled. Chu Mochen held her hand and stood up. The broken Hongmeng pen was absorbing the blood from her palm, and readers' messages gradually appeared on the pen: "Keep going, heroine!" "Chu Mochen, go!"

However, the calm lasted only three seconds.

The entire floor-to-ceiling window suddenly shattered, and a torrential downpour, accompanied by a stream of black data, poured into the room, throwing Su Yao to the ground. She watched in horror as the data stream coalesced into the image of Liu Yan'er, more hideous than at any point in the story—her body was half code, half flesh, and the seal of order between her brows shattered into fragments, each bearing the command to "delete," "correct," and "format."

"Su Yao, do you really think you can resist the observer?" Liu Yan'er's voice was like rusty gears grinding, "When you created me, you should have thought that the villain can never win over the protagonist."

The data streams tangled like chains around Su Yao's limbs, and she felt like she was being dragged toward the computer screen. At the critical moment, a yellowed bookmark fell out of her notebook. It was something she had gotten at a book fair last year. It had the cover of the first edition of "Counterattack" printed on it: Yun Yao stood by the ancient well in the palace, holding a half-broken scroll in her hands, the brilliant starry sky reflected in her eyes.

"Wrong." Su Yao suddenly laughed, blood flowing from the corner of her mouth, but her smile was more determined than ever. "From the moment Yun Yao picked up the ancient book in the palace, the protagonist of this story is no longer me. The real counterattack is to give every character the power to rewrite their destiny - including you, Liu Yan'er."

She pressed the bookmark onto the bronze order. A golden light flashed, and cracks appeared in Liu Yan'er's data stream. Su Yao took the opportunity to open her notebook, heavily crossed out the words "Submit to Fate," and wrote: "As Liu Yan'er watched Yun Yao's retreating figure, she began to question, 'Who am I?' For the first time, this world shouldn't have just one way to live."

As the last word fell, Liu Yan'er's shadow roared in frustration, transforming into countless butterflies of light and dissipating. The computer screen returned to normal, the chapter list intact. The title of the latest chapter was exactly what she had just written: "Chapter 981: The Tribulation of Online Literature."

Su Yao sat slumped in the mess, looking out the window at the gradually clearing sky, and found that her palms had returned to normal. The physical books on the bookshelf no longer had ink seeping through them, and the words "submit to fate" in the notebook disappeared, replaced by a highlighter: "The story is not over, the counterattack continues."

Suddenly, a new message popped up on the computer. It was a message from the editor, Lao Zhang: "Su Yao, you finally updated! This chapter is so exciting, readers are all posting the topic of 'Author Awakening'! Oh, and a mysterious reader just gave a reward of one million Qidian coins, with the note 'A wedding gift for Yun Yao and Chu Mochen' - hahahaha, your book is really going viral!"

She smiled but didn't reply. Her fingertips slid across the keyboard and wrote in the author's words:

"To all of you reading this: When Yun Yao raised the Hongmeng Pen in the world of cultivation, and when Chu Mochen severed the chains of the Heavenly Dao for her, they taught me the most important thing—a story is never a one-man show by the author, but a legend written together by every soul who believes in a comeback. In the next chapter, let us continue to rewrite our destiny."

The moment she clicked publish, Su Yao heard the clear chirping of birds outside the window. Sunlight pierced through the clouds, casting a rainbow across the floor, landing squarely on the wet ink stain at her feet—the gesture of Yun Yao reaching out, palms facing upward, as if catching the stars in the sky.

(End of this chapter)