Chapter 122: A Lone Battle Against the World

At Gao Litong's home, her younger sister Gao Lidan was busy playing a computer game, while Gao Litong lay on the bed alone, scrolling through her phone. She tossed and turned, occasionally kicking the air-conditioned blanket on the bed, thoroughly enjoying herself.

It was obvious—wealth had its perks. Sleeping under the air conditioner with a blanket in summer was a luxury.

“Sis, can you be a little quieter?” Lidan grumbled, frustrated after losing her game, disturbed by Gao Litong’s boisterous movements.

“Annoyed? Go back to your room and give me my computer. I want to get online,” Gao Litong huffed, engrossed in watching live battles on her phone, excitedly cheering on her favorite boy as he fought across the battlefield.

Meanwhile, in Yang Feifei’s villa:

“Feifei, this is serious—Xiao Tong is going to battle the heavens, the earth, and the world!” In the living room, the TV was on, and Lin Yin, playing on her phone on the sofa, suddenly shouted excitedly.

Yang Feifei flipped her phone with a mischievous smile. “I’m watching it too, hehe. Looks like you want Xiao Tong to fight alongside you.”

Both Lin Yin and Yang Feifei were no naive girls. Lin Yin’s cheeks flushed slightly. “You’re the one who wants it. An old cow chasing young grass—don’t think I can’t see through your little schemes. You care about Xiao Tong so much, yet pretend to dislike him.”

“Hehe, if I liked him, wouldn’t you have stolen him already with those big boobs of yours? Look how big they are—my fingers can’t even wrap around!” Yang Feifei pounced on Lin Yin.

“Ahaha… you naughty thing! Stop touching, or they’ll get even bigger—too painful…” Lin Yin dropped her phone, struggling to escape.

...

Su Tong spent about ten minutes researching dusk-related information online.

“Oh, this guy is from Chang’an.”

After some digging, Su Tong returned to posting and sent a microblog:

“Leyou Plain

Uneasy at dusk, I drive up the ancient plain.

The sunset is infinitely beautiful,

But it is near twilight.”

A five-character quatrain by Li Shangyin, directly addressing the writer known by the pen name “Twilight.”

Thousands of viewers eagerly flooded the microblogs, waiting for Su Tong’s poem.

True to expectations, “Leyou Plain” appeared shortly after.

At the sight of Su Tong’s new post, viewers in front of their computers and phones couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Pfft, pfft, pfft~~~”

“Ha! Twilight hero, how hated are you?”

“Ha! ‘The sunset is infinitely beautiful, but it is near twilight’—this Twilight is just too annoying.”

“Quack, Twilight, you idiot, such a spoil-sport! Get lost, you’re ruining our view.”

“Who is this ‘Niannujiao’? I’m in awe.”

“Niannujiao, love you, love you, love you! Fire away at me—I’d die happy under your cannon.”

“Niannujiao, you’re too handsome! Fire one at this little lady too; let me die in your embrace.”

“Brother, I can’t take it anymore—come help me… ahhh…”

“...”

Su Tong had no time to read the comments. After posting, he immediately continued hunting for his next target.

Behind me lies a whole world supporting me. Whom should I fear?

“Beast… beast…”

The old man known as Twilight cursed three words upon seeing Su Tong’s poem, then fainted. Compared to the writer involved in that scandal, he had saved himself from vomiting.

His family scrambled to rush him to the hospital.

Gao Litong, Wen Peiyan, Shi Jiaqin, Yang Feifei, and the others were thrilled and proud to see Su Tong’s poem—but that wasn’t enough. They needed to see the comments. When they saw those who worshipped Su Tong shouting excitedly, their satisfaction deepened; true joy came from reading the reactions.

However, when they saw some fierce women’s comments, their excitement instantly drained away like smoke dispersing in the air.

“What shameless women.”

“Disgrace to us ladies.”

“...”

The girls blushed while secretly cursing.

“Honey, come out quick, look! It’s God!”

“Darling, come see Buddha, I see Buddha!”

“Everyone, come out! There’s a deity slaying demons!”

“What kind of game is this? Quickly check microblogs to see the sage!”

“Don’t wait for the update, go watch the divine slaughter on microblogs—a once-in-a-century spectacle!”

“...”

Many viewers shouted eagerly, calling their significant others or friends. This one-sided slaughter in the two-world war was incredibly thrilling.

The divine child emerged from nowhere, wielding pen as sword, invincible, single-handedly routing the other side, leaving them disarmed and defeated.

All night long, Su Tong hunted.

“Hmm?” Spotting a big target, Su Tong’s heart stirred.

Alright, this time, you’re it.

This writer named “Yellow Crane” bluntly rebuked Su Tong: “Be honest, let the original author show up. If you want fame, wait ten more years. Maybe then your backers can barely help you make a name.”

Su Tong’s counterattack was no joke. He had researched Yellow Crane—born in Jiangcheng, no wonder the pen name.

The famous Yellow Crane Tower, hailed as the “number one tower of all the lands,” stood in Jiangcheng.

Ha! Heaven truly aids me. After checking Yellow Crane’s info, Su Tong laughed heartily.

Yellow Crane had a “mortal enemy,” a fellow writer also from Jiangcheng, pen name “Olden One.”

“Olden One, I’ll lend you a hand,” Su Tong chuckled.

Suddenly:

“Climbing Yellow Crane Tower

The Olden One has ridden the yellow crane away,

Leaving only the Yellow Crane Tower behind.

The yellow crane once gone returns no more,

For a thousand years white clouds drift idly.

Clear river and Hanyang trees stand distinctly,

Fragrant grasses lush on Parrot Island.

At dusk, where is my hometown?

The misty waves on the river fill me with sorrow.”

The poem hit like a thunderclap, shaking the entire Qin literary world.

Originally, some literary giants only observing the spectacle were utterly stunned by this poem.

How many literary titans had not climbed Yellow Crane Tower?

All the famous places where ancient literati wrote poetry and enjoyed themselves were the goals of modern writers.

To spiritually visit these sacred places of ancient literary masters, to honor ancestors and feel the imprint of sages through the ages, was a required lesson for modern authors.

These sacred places, nurtured by heaven’s essence, rich with the beauty of mountains and waters, were approached with reverence by modern writers seeking inspiration.

“This young man is truly a divine being,” commented a senior member of the Writers’ Association under Su Tong’s microblog. He was a vice chairman of the National Writers’ Association.

A group of elders fell silent. Such a prodigy was terrifying.

Not only was Su Tong insulting others, he was simultaneously composing timeless verses that would be remembered forever.

His actions that night, especially in “Climbing Yellow Crane Tower,” seemed to convey something profound. Many traditional literary writers and poets tried to grasp the meaning but failed.

What was he trying to express? He must have an important message, but they were too dull to perceive it.

At this moment, outside observers in the literary world became anxious. They no longer dared treat Su Tong as a mere child or puppet.

Did “Climbing Yellow Crane Tower” signify his disappointment? Disappointment with the world? Or with the literary community? With us?