The comments said I was deeply affectionate, I just added points by using an alternate account.

At first, the reply section was full of question marks, and only later did text begin to appear.

[Great pictures, OP! Send more next time!]

Which episode did I miss?

[User ID: CheerfulNetizen9527... New account? I've been on this forum for so long and I've never seen this person before. It's still using the default profile picture.]

After a brief period of confusion, the forum's tone began to subtly shift after someone clicked on the larger image and looked at all nine photos one by one.

The first picture is of Long Ao.

Half of the boy's body was soaked in blood, and the veins on his muscular arms bulged as he silently roared at something outside the frame.

Behind him was the collapsed tower top, and beneath his feet were the remains of monsters. His fierce, indomitable spirit could burn the eyes even through the screen.

[Holy crap, Ao Ge looks so handsome in this picture, it's so cool!]

[Did you draw this yourself? The composition, the lighting, the sense of fragmentation—did you create this yourself?]

This food smells so good, I'm going to eat!

The second picture is of An Changqing.

He held up his longsword, blood dripping down its blade.

He didn't look at the camera, but gazed at the dark night sky in the distance, his eyes bright.

My heart aches for my beloved Changqing, the strongest swordsman fighting the fiercest battles.

【Our Changqing is the number one genius in sword cultivation. A sword of righteous indignation, a sword of tender affection, all things can be swords. One sword has been worth a million soldiers, one sword's frost chills fourteen provinces.】

I'm eating, eating, eating!

The third picture is of Liu Feiyu.

The young man in black sat alone on the broken stone beam, his figure desolate.

The night breeze stirred his clothes, and the coin in his hand reflected a silvery light.

He was like a detached judge, or a lone wolf burdened with too many secrets.

[Lao Liu also sat down to eat, exuding an air of self-assurance that he was the only one sober in a world of drunks.]

He was clearly on the battlefield, yet he remained detached from everyone else; this sense of loneliness was unbearable, and Lao Liu was isolated once again.

I'm eating, eating, eating!

Whose gluttonous creature is this? Why are you everywhere?

……

Nine pictures, each telling a story. There's the resolute back-to-back confrontation between Su Yuehe and Yin Chen, the flowing crimson hair of Hong Yuan as she wields her giant axe, and the last one, a weary group portrait under the lamplight.

Sure enough, the popularity rating in the background kept increasing steadily.

This audience is really easy to manage.

Chen Guan closed the forum page with satisfaction.

He was basking in the joy of watching his balance balloon when he realized they had already arrived at the tarmac.

Because of concerns that the monsters might return, the original First Academy has been emptied out, and this is the Second Academy.

The hatch opened, and Instructor Jing's lazy face appeared in the doorway.

His gaze fell on the coffin in the corner.

"Chen Guan"

Chen Guan stood up and adjusted the black coffin behind him.

Instructor Jing grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Your private room for reflection is ready. It's nice, with a table, a lamp, and an unlimited supply of paper."

"Don't forget, a 5,000-word self-criticism, due tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM, not a single word can be missing."

Chen Guan paused for a moment.

No, you really want me to write it?

He silently followed the flow of people off the plane and headed towards the private room prepared for him.

The room was quiet, with only an incandescent light bulb overhead.

A table, a chair, a thick stack of manuscript paper, and a pen.

Chen Guan sat down and picked up a pen.

After much deliberation, he solemnly wrote the first line on the blank manuscript paper.

"My name is Chen Guan, and today I..."

He stopped writing, looked up at the ceiling, and fell into deep thought.

How do I compose the remaining 4,900-plus characters?

Chen Guan's pen hovered over the manuscript paper for a long time, and a drop of ink slowly spread out.

On the paper in front of him, there was still only a single, solitary line of text.

and then?

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a while.

I've come up with a few universal templates in my mind.

For example, when I had a high fever, my mother carried me to the hospital in the pouring rain, which made me understand the greatness of maternal love. Love you, Mom, see you tomorrow.

Or, I helped an old lady cross the street, and she handed me an apple with trembling hands, which made me understand... understand what again.

Childhood memories are fading, and Chen Guan can't fit into any template at all.

This is five thousand words, not five hundred.

Chen Guan put down his pen and leaned back in his chair.

He changed his approach.

Who is this letter of self-criticism for?

Instructor Jing, White Tiger.

A wicked big cat who loves to watch the drama unfold and has a perverse sense of humor.

What does he want to see?

A heartfelt and deeply insightful letter of repentance?

Don't make your coffin brother laugh. That guy just wants to have fun. This is just a prank show by his cheap boss.

Thinking of this, he sat up straight again and picked up his pen.

This time, the pen tip fell without pausing.

He reconstructed the entire Demon Tower incident from his own perspective.

When I saw the demonic beast's claws tear apart my companions' defenses, my heart felt as if it had been ripped open by those claws. It hurt terribly. I hated my own powerlessness, and I hated the injustice of this world. Why must there always be sacrifice? Why must protection always come at the cost of blood?

His heart was completely unmoved, and he even commented: Long Ao was just blasted away. To say he was torn apart would be more tragic. This will add a few more words. Five thousand words is too many. I wrote this paragraph just to pad the word count.

Throughout his self-criticism, he used a large amount of ornate yet empty language to repeatedly depict his inner pain and struggle.

What does it mean to act without authorization?

That's called "being swept along by the torrent of fate, struggling against one's own will."

What does it mean to disobey orders?

That's called "cutting a bloody path to dawn for your comrades in the darkness of despair."

As for why I wrote five thousand words?

How could a mere few hundred words possibly contain the depth of my pain and reflections?

He wrote more and more smoothly, and inspiration flowed freely, so much so that he didn't even need to make a draft.

After working through the night, as dawn broke, the manuscript paper was already completely filled with writing.

Chen Guan blew the ink off the last page and stretched his aching wrist.

He read it through once, and at first glance it seemed very learned, but upon closer inspection it was utter nonsense.

I can't be the only one suffering; even the White Tiger has to read these five thousand words of garbage.

Before he could defeat Hagi Tiger, Chen Guan could only resort to this method to subtly confront the White Tiger.

……

Medical center.

Long Ao lay in the treatment pod, feeling indignant on behalf of Chen Guan.

"What kind of nonsense is this? Chen Guan has to be locked up and forced to write a self-criticism?"

At this point, Long Ao already knew that Instructor Jing was Bai Hu, the one who saved him and Chen Guan in Jiangcheng. He had also given him a strange token and asked some strange questions.

His assessment of Baihu was that he was a strange man with unclear motives. When he asked Baihu how he should repay the life-saving grace, Baihu did not say, only that the time was not yet right.

This uncertainty made Long Ao somewhat uneasy. He could see that the White Tiger was exceptionally strong and had great ambitions.