Finishing the book means death; I abandoned the whole world.

Meanwhile, at the training ground.

Wang Gangtie stood in the center, making hand seals, and a cyan spirit sword condensed in front of him, this time also in three seconds.

"Ugh, another failure," she gasped.

"Because you're still using the old methods," Green Float said, offering guidance from the side. She was a very responsible editor. "Before, when you wrote about the circulation cycle, you were describing the results. Now you have to describe the process."

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine your aura doesn't just spring up all at once, but flows like a river," Green said patiently.

"This river has its source, its course, and its direction. Your dantian is your source, your meridians are the course, and your spirit sword is the mouth. The river will never run dry; it just flows a little faster or slower."

Wang Gangtie closed his eyes and recalled the setting of his novel: the female protagonist came from a poor family and had mixed spiritual roots, so she took the route of winning by quantity. Her dantian capacity was three times that of cultivators of the same level, but the circulation speed was very slow.

"I have a lot of spiritual energy, but it needs guidance." Slowly immersing myself in it.

She no longer pursued an instant burst of energy, but instead imagined the spiritual energy flowing out slowly, traveling along the meridians, growing stronger with each acupoint it passed, and finally gathering in her palm.

The spirit sword condensed, three seconds, four seconds, seven seconds!

"Hold on!" Greeny shouted. "Don't think about how to cut, think about staying! Keep the sword alive!"

Wang Gangtie was sweating profusely, but the spirit sword had truly stabilized. The cyan light no longer flickered erratically, but instead emitted a steady and continuous glow.

Twenty seconds!

"I can control it now!" Wang Gangtie exclaimed with great joy.

"It's not about control, it's about endurance. Your approach is the opposite of Zhang Gou Dan's. He's an explosive type, dealing 5 points per punch, or even 10 or 20 points with a combination of punches, and then he's done. You're a sustained type, your sword strike might only cost 1 point, but you can hold it for a long time."

Wang Gangtie opened his eyes, holding the spirit sword in his palm, and smiled happily. "Endurance? Then I'm the battery?"

"What?"

"Brother Yong said we need producers. If I can provide a stable output, could I supply power to the base?"

Greenie paused for a moment, then floated a little higher: "Wait a minute, this idea is interesting! I'll go call Brother Yong."

Evening, in the base's meeting room (outside of mealtimes in the canteen).

Upon hearing Green's report, Yong's eyes lit up: "Powering the spirit sword?"

"In the settings of cultivation novels, spirit swords are inherently condensed forms of spiritual energy," Wang Gangtie said somewhat nervously. "If I don't 'slash' it away, but instead let it 'exist,' continuously emitting spiritual energy, theoretically... it could power something."

"for example?"

"For example," she turned her head and saw the [Narrative Stabilization Anchor] in the center of the stronghold, the sphere of light woven from everyone's stories, "that anchor requires 30 weight points to maintain every day. If I could charge it with my spirit sword, wouldn't that save some of the weight?"

Yong Ge and Ye Tian exchanged a glance, genuinely amazed by each other's imagination. "Theoretically, it seems feasible. The essence of a narrative stability anchor is the [concretization of collective beliefs], and spiritual energy is also a form of belief."

"Give it a try!"

The group arrived below the anchor. Wang Gangtie formed a hand seal, and a stable spirit sword materialized in her hands. She did not strike it, but let the tip of the sword touch the anchor.

After merging for one minute, the spiritual sword's energy dissipated completely.

[Narrative weight 31→28]

Two lights merged. [External energy input detected. The cost of maintaining the narrative stability anchor has been reduced; limited to once per day.]

[Daily consumption: 30 points → 21 points]

"Nine points!" Yong jumped up. "Using the Steel ability costs 3 points, but the consumption has been reduced by 9 points, that's a pure profit of 6 points! 6 points a day, that's 180 points a month!"

"Looks like I'll have to help you increase your search ranking from now on!"

Yong Ge looked at Wang Gangtie, then at Wu Qu, "You two, one is the engine of imagination, the other is a human power bank, and you even have combat capabilities! Our base finally has decent productivity!"

Wu Qu and Wang Gangtie exchanged a smile. The two girls, who had stumbled and fallen in the apocalypse, had finally found their place.

"Speaking of which, Wu Qu, why do you still use tape on your glasses? Imagine a new one!" Yong Ge said, looking at Wu Qu and remembering this incident.

"Oh yeah! How could I forget!"

Wu Qu closed his eyes and began to imagine the glasses. "The frames are light purple, the lenses are clear, the prescription is 300 degrees, and there are fine patterns on the edges, like blooming wisteria flowers."

As Yong Ge's pen fell, [a pair of light purple glasses appeared in Wu Qu's hand. The lenses were clear, with a prescription of 300 degrees, and the edges were adorned with wisteria patterns, elegant and clear.]

[Current narrative weight: 183→182]

"It's only 1 o'clock!" Wu Qu exclaimed in surprise as she put on her new glasses. "Waaah, Yong-ge, thank you so much! The view is so comfortable!"

"That's the power of teamwork." Yong put away his pen.

Wu Qu touched the pattern on the glasses frame, her heart filled with joy.

……

次日。叙事权重182-46=136。王钢铁由于未绑定生存消耗28→23

Li Yumeng squatted in the corner, gently and carefully washing the gauze with the "concept water" she had brought back from the convenience store.

"Sister Yumeng, are you busy again?" Fang Xiaoyuan poked her head in.

"Yes, Chaobin's wound has scabbed over, but he still needs to have his dressing changed." Li Yumeng said without looking up. "The damage caused by narrative residue is different from ordinary external injuries. Although those periods have faded, there may still be fragments of text remaining under the skin."

As she spoke, she gently pressed the edge of the wound with her fingers, her eyes focused, "Does it hurt?"

"It's a little itchy." Huang Chaobin lay on the bed, his face turned to the side. "Yu Meng, you're a more dedicated nurse than any doctor I've ever met."

Li Yumeng paused for a moment, "When I was interning at the hospital, my mentor said that nursing isn't about technique, it's about attitude. You have to treat every patient as..."

She couldn't continue.

What should we treat it as? As a character in a story? Or as a real person?

In this world, there seems to be no difference between the two.

When Yongge entered the medical room, he witnessed this scene. Li Yumeng had her back to the door, her thin shoulders drooping slightly, her hair casually tied with a rubber band, and a few stray hairs hanging down beside her ears.

Her movements remained gentle, but Yong noticed that her fingers were trembling slightly.

"Yu Meng"

"Ah, Brother Yong." She hurriedly wiped her eyes, turned around, and a calm smile appeared on her face: "Chaobin is recovering very well."

Yong-ge looked at her without saying a word. Li Yumeng felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and lowered her head to organize her medicine kit.

"You're afraid of blood," Yong-ge suddenly said.

"..."

"I noticed it the first day at the convenience store, when you were treating Chaobin's wound. Your imagination ran wild; you meticulously followed the iodine, gauze, and disinfection procedures. But you couldn't bear to look at the 'periods' (circles); you were operating with your eyes closed the whole time."

Li Yumeng's hand stopped.

"I've seen many external injuries in the hospital before, but those were all normal blood. The wounds here are different. Those words, those symbols seeping from the skin, seem to be reminding me that this world is fake, and we are all..."

"What are they?"

"These are all stories that are being written." She looked up, her eyes a little red. "Brother Yong, aren't you afraid? What if one day we're all suddenly written to death?"

"We're afraid, but fear is useless. As Wang Laodeng once said, in this world, ending means death, but even eunuchs have a chance to live. As long as we don't finish writing, you're still in progress."

He walked up to Li Yumeng, squatted down, and leveled his gaze with hers. "And you, Yumeng, your ability isn't fighting, it's healing. In this apocalypse, people who are willing to stop and take care of others are rarer than those who can punch a monster to pieces."

Li Yumeng looked at him, and tears fell down her cheeks.

"I'm just an ordinary nurse. I've never even been officially hired before. I'm afraid of using my skills incorrectly and harming people."

"You did it right." Yong stood up. "At the convenience store, you and Wu Qu worked together to save Chao Bin. Without using any narrative weight, purely through imagination and detail. Do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"That means you can go on indefinitely," Yong laughed. "As long as someone cooperates with you, you're a perpetual motion machine. Power eventually runs out, but your focus, your attention to detail, and your willingness to give to others—these are things that don't cost money."

Li Yumeng's eyes were filled with tears.

"So, don't treat yourself like a expendable resource." Yong walked towards the door, glancing back at her. "You're the doctor at this base, our logistical support. The exploration team departs tomorrow; you'll be coming along."

"I?"

"Yes, you. Chaobin is healed, and we need his investigative abilities, but we need your treatment even more. There's a readers' club two kilometers away; I don't know what's waiting for us. With you here, I feel at ease."

Li Yumeng watched his retreating figure, her fingers unconsciously clenching the gauze.

"Brother Yong."

"Um?"

"I will...I will try my best."

Yong waved his hand and walked out of the medical room, a slight smile on his lips.

This nurse, who was afraid of blood, found her place in this apocalyptic world. She was willing to reach out even when she was afraid.

After lunch, the core members stayed in the cafeteria. Time was of the essence.

"Readers' Club. It was located two kilometers from here before the apocalypse. It was an offline event venue for the KDbulake website, where readers would gather every week before the apocalypse."

"And now?" Zhang Gou Dan asked, his question utterly devoid of any technical sophistication.

"I don't know. But there might be more survivors there, and there might be more relics."

He looked at Huang Chaobin: "Your injury?"

"No problem!" Huang Chaobin stretched his shoulders. "The reading ability has also recovered. Although the accuracy is still a little lacking, it should be enough for navigation."

"Steel, your weight is about to reach a critical point, so you still need to come with us this time. We'll find a way to get some weight for you."

"Yes, I'm fine with it." Wang Gangtie had no objections.

"Then it's settled," Yong Ge decided. "Tomorrow's exploration team members: me, Wu Qu, Zhang Gou Dan, Li Yu Meng, and Wang Wang Gangtie, a six-person team. Target: Readers' Club, search for survivors, collect relics, and gather intelligence."

"Two kilometers, that's a bit far," Wu Qu said with some concern.

"So we need to be fully prepared!" Yong Ge looked at Li Yumeng. "After the meeting, you immediately work with Wu Qu to brainstorm a batch of first-aid supplies: bandages, disinfectant, hemostats—the more detailed the better. I'll confirm it. Is one hour enough?"

"Okay! That's enough!" Li Yumeng said firmly.

"Alright, then we'll confirm in one hour, rest for another hour, and then set off. Dog Egg Bro, your boxing champion should conserve his energy; don't make a move unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Understood, charging up." Zhang Gou Dan patted the "Invincible Under Heaven" sign under his floral shorts.

"Chaobin, you're in charge of the route. Avoid areas where narrative-hungry monsters congregate, and prioritize areas with 'description interruptions'—they're less stable, but there are fewer monsters there."

"receive."

"Also," he paused, looking at everyone present, "if you encounter other authors, first assess their current status. If they are still serializing, you can try to contact them; if they have already... completed their works, collect their belongings, but don't disturb them."

"In this world, every completed story was once a living, breathing person."

Everyone nodded in silence.