The Legend of the Princess' Counterattack

Chapter 732: Novels are the Way of Heaven

The night was as dark as ink, thick and indissoluble. The lights in the hospital corridor flickered on and off, like the gasps of a dying person. In the ICU, Su Yao's body lay lifeless on the bed, various instruments and tubes snaking out, connecting her final connection to this world. The numbers on the instruments were cold and cruel. The moment her heartbeat returned to zero, a dead silence enveloped her.

At the same moment, Yun Yao felt a blinding white light before her eyes, as if her soul had been drawn into a vortex of time and space. When she regained consciousness, she was already dressed in a hospital gown, lying on her familiar bed. Before she could gather her thoughts, Chu Mochen's figure came into view. His expression was solemn, his usually deep eyes now filled with anxiety and determination. In his hand, he tightly grasped a lotus heart lock that radiated a gentle glow. That light seemed to be a hope struggling in this dark and hopeless situation.

"Yao'er, this is your 'Original World.'" Chu Mochen's voice was unusually tense, like a string about to snap, humming in the silent ward. "Youyue's remaining spirit is in this hospital, and she intends to sever your final connection to the Heavenly Dao!"

Before she could finish her words, the lights in the ward suddenly went out, and darkness, like a surging tide, instantly swallowed everything. Yun Yao's heartbeat suddenly accelerated. In the pitch-black darkness, the sharp sound of nails scraping against tiles shuddered like the claws of an evil spirit slicing across her soul. She instinctively lowered her head and saw a blood-red curse mark slowly emerging on her wrist. The strange patterns and dark red hue were exactly the "Fate Wheel Soul Locking Formation" she had seen in the Siming Palace.

Fear entwined her heart like a vine. Yun Yao swallowed hard and slowly looked up. The mirror on the ward wall reflected her, and it instantly made her feel like she was falling into an icy cave. The self in the mirror was dressed in the attire of the Blood Demon Sect. The gloomy black robe and hideous accessories exuded a bone-chilling chill. The sinister smile on her lips was like a demon from the Nine Nether Hell, mocking her panic. "Su Yao, your story should end now."

At this critical moment, a sharp sword energy burst forth like the breaking light of dawn, instantly splitting the darkness. Chu Mochen's sword, whistling with unstoppable momentum, approached. Yun Yao followed the light and was shocked to see the walls of the ward covered in golden writing. The words seemed alive, shimmering with a mysterious light. Upon closer inspection, they were the manuscript of "The Counterattack of the Peerless Princess," which she had written before her time travel!

Memories of past creations flooded back like a tide; those days of working day and night, racking her brains over a single plot, seemed like yesterday. But now, those abandoned plots she had crossed out were like awakened demons, breaking free from their slumber and transforming into a rolling black mist, violently engulfing reality.

The concubine who was given poisoned wine, a supporting character who had appeared in the first draft as just a few words, serving to highlight the protagonist's suffering, now appeared vividly from the page. She was dressed in a gorgeous yet torn palace dress, her hair disheveled, and she clutched the blood-stained jade cup tightly. The remaining wine in the cup was like scorpion venom, exuding a deadly aura. She approached Yun Yao step by step, each step shattering the boundary between reality and fantasy.

Then, an even more horrifying scene unfolded. The traitor, who had been beheaded, his neck horribly severed, a bloody mess of flesh. Yet, his hands, seemingly insensitive to the pain, lifted his own head and pounded on the door. In his hollow eye sockets, a faint green ghostly light flickered, as if telling of endless resentment.

"System Alert: Resonance of Narrative Law Fragments Detected!" A mechanical voice, like thunder, boomed through Yun Yao's mind, giving her a splitting headache. "The host is undergoing a 'Rewind to the Origin World'. All unfinished plot points will materialize!"

Yun Yao's mind felt like it was caught in the center of a storm, a chaotic mess yet gradually giving way to clarity. Suddenly, she remembered the Heavenly Dao Jade Slips from the Siming Hall. Like a flash of lightning, it flashed through her mind—it turned out that every character and every plot she had created was a projection of the laws of Heaven in a different world. Those stories, once thought to be mere fiction, now became the key to life and death.

When fear and panic gave way to resolve, Yun Yao fiercely grasped Chu Mochen's hand. The moment their fingertips touched, a radiant light emanated from them, as if opening a portal to a treasure trove of memories. The poisoned wine at the palace banquet—her new arrival at the palace, peril lurked everywhere. The poison in the wine, like a venomous snake, was discovered through her cunning and courage. The kiss on the icy lake in the secret realm—the icy cold felt like a desperate situation, yet it ignited a fiery love between them. Their lips intertwined, a vow of life and death was made. The life lantern in the Siming Palace collapsed, leaving life and death hanging by a thread. The faint glow of the wick, like a lingering hope, faltered in the darkness.

These fragments of memory have now turned into tangible weapons, shining brightly. With the courage and strength of the past, they slash at the phantom in the mirror that wants to devour everything.

The "Blood Demon Yun Yao" in the mirror let out a sharp, piercing cry, like the cry of a night owl, piercing the silence: "Do you think you can defeat me with these false memories? Look out the window—"

Yun Yao and Chu Mochen's hearts tightened, and they both turned to look out the window. On the hospital rooftop, the moonlight shone like water, casting a shadow of horror. Another Chu Mochen was strangling the modern Su Yao by the neck. The moonlight illuminated the gaping wound on his chest, which resembled the mouth of a demon, the demonic evil writhing beneath like ferocious fangs—it was actually a puppet created by the Holy Maiden Youyue using the "Fate Wheel Splitting Technique"!

Yun Yao's breathing quickened, her eyes wide as she stared out the window at the nightmare-like scene. The puppet Chu Mochen's face was identical to the one beside him, yet his distorted expression and the eerie, demonic aura he exuded seemed so alien. Under the moonlight, his eyes reflected the same stars as the original Chu Mochen, a mark of origin possessed only by the Son of the Divine Court. It was as if the holiness of heaven and the evil of hell had strangely merged in this moment.

The system suddenly reported an error, its sharp voice like a siren: "Warning! World line overlap detected. The host is experiencing a paradox with the 'unselected self'!"

"Su Yao, do you really think you're the only protagonist?" The puppet Chu Mochen seemed to squeeze these words out from between his teeth, his voice like shattered glass, harsh and cold. He ripped open his clothes, revealing half a silver lotus seed embedded in his chest. The lotus seed shone coldly in the moonlight, as if hiding endless secrets. "In the ending you deleted, I was the one who accompanied you to the Immortal Realm."

Yun Yao's mind felt like it had been struck hard, memories flooding back like an uncontrollable flood. She had written about a darkened Chu Mochen in her outline. Back then, driven by love and obsession, he plunged into darkness, slaughtering the entire Blood Demon Sect, his hands stained with blood. Ultimately, he was retaliated by the laws of nature, struggling in endless pain. That ending she had abandoned in the wastebasket, that "abandoned character," now carried an unfinished obsession, like an avenger returned to replace the original Chu Mochen.

Chu Mochen's body trembled slightly. His gaze shifted between Yun Yao and the puppet, finally settling on Yun Yao's face. Her eyes held reluctance, determination, and an endless tenderness. Suddenly, he raised his sword high and, without hesitation, plunged it into his heart. Golden blood splattered like brilliant fireworks in the moonlight, showering the puppet.

"The only solution to a paradox is to return to the source." He gave Yun Yao a bitter smile, as if swallowing the bitterest medicine in the world. The sadness in that smile was heartbreaking. "Delete me, just like you deleted those failed plots..."

"No!" Yun Yao cried out from the depths of her soul. Her eyes flushed, tears welling up in them, but she forced herself to hold them back. In this moment of life and death, of reality intertwined, she seemed to see the beginning and end of all stories. The time she spent with Chu Mochen, whether it was laughter or tears, flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern.

Yun Yao suddenly turned her hand to grip the hilt of the sword, her knuckles turning white from the force. She resolutely thrust the sword into the puppet's heart. "In my story, there has only ever been one Chu Mochen."

As the puppet dissipated, it was like waking from a nightmare. Standing on the edge of the rooftop, modern-day Su Yao slowly turned around, the moonlight streaming down her face, reflecting two overlapping figures—her initial form as the "incarnation of Heaven." It was like the beginning of chaos, the dawn of light. All the mysteries and crises gradually became clear at this moment, yet it seemed only the prelude to a greater storm.

Inside the hospital room, Yun Yao and Chu Mochen embraced each other, their heartbeats resonating like war drums in the silence. Outside the window, the moonlight faded into the clouds, and darkness remained shrouded. But in their hearts, a fire of hope burned brighter than the sun, for they knew this battle against the laws of nature, against fate, and against themselves had only just begun...

Before the two of them could recover from the shock of their recent experience, the walls of the ward suddenly began to tremble violently, and golden characters surged wildly like a school of frightened fish. Yun Yao looked closely and saw that the characters were rearranging themselves, as if an invisible hand were writing a new chapter.

"This is..." Yun Yao muttered to herself, with an ominous premonition in her heart.

At this moment, a deep and bewitching voice, as if from the depths of hell, rang out: "Yun Yao, do you think you can escape this calamity by getting rid of the puppet? Look at this ward. It will soon become your grave, and the stories you write will become the loess that bury you."

Yun Yao and Chu Mochen looked around, seeing a black mist seeping from the corners of the ward, slowly spreading like the tentacles of a demon. Within the mist, faint images emerged—unbelievably the most tragic and darkest scenes from her novels. Towns ravaged by war, the wails of the populace piercing the heart as if they had traveled through time and space; the protagonist betrayed by his beloved, the despair in his eyes like an endless abyss; and the battlefield, where blood flowed like a river, the mangled limbs piled like a mountain, the stench of blood overwhelming.

"Youyue, what exactly do you want?" Yun Yao glared at her, her voice like a burning flame.

"I want you to witness with your own eyes how everything you hold dear is destroyed in your story." Youyue's voice was like a sinister sneer in the night sky. "Every choice you make will become the key to open the gates of hell."

Yun Yao took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She looked at Chu Mochen, their eyes meeting. Without needing words, their resolve was clear. Yun Yao raised her hand, a force as if immense as hers, and gently touched the golden words on the wall.

Instantly, a powerful force pulled her away, as if she were falling into a time tunnel. Recovering from her thoughts, she found herself in a pivotal scene from the novel—the dungeon of the imperial palace. The dark, damp dungeon, filled with instruments of torture, emanated the stench of blood and decay. And her best friend, the maidservant with whom she had shared joy and hardship, lay tied to the rack, bruised and battered, her breath nearly gone.

"Princess...save me..." The maid's weak voice was like a candle in the wind.

Yun Yao was extremely anxious. Just as she was about to step forward, she was stopped by an invisible barrier. "This is a trap set by Youyue. Yao'er, don't be impulsive." Chu Mochen's voice rang in her ears.

Yun Yao gritted her teeth and looked around, trying to find a flaw. Suddenly, she discovered that the dungeon wall also had golden words similar to those in the ward, but these words were flashing an eerie red light.

"The Law of Narrative..." Yun Yao's heart stirred. She closed her eyes, concentrated her mind, and tried to connect with the words. Gradually, she felt a familiar power, as if the words were part of her body.

"Rewrite fate..." Yun Yao whispered softly, a faint light emanating from her hands as she began to try to modify the words. As she moved, the scene in the dungeon began to quietly change. The torture instruments disappeared, and the maid's wounds gradually healed.

At this moment, Youyue's voice rang out like thunder: "Do you think it's so easy to rewrite it?"

In an instant, the dungeon seemed to turn upside down, magma gushed out from the ground, as if the world was ending. Yun Yao and Chu Mochen hugged each other tightly, facing this desperate situation, but they did not retreat.

"Our story is written by us!" Yun Yao shouted, and the light in her hands became brighter. She poured all her beliefs and all her love into the golden words.

A miracle happened. As if held back by an invisible force, the lava slowly receded. The dungeon returned to peace, and the maid was safe and sound.

Yun Yao and Chu Mochen smiled at each other. They knew that this was just one of countless challenges, but as long as they joined hands, nothing could stop them from changing their destiny.

Back in the ward, the golden writing on the wall had calmed down, and the black mist had dissipated. Yun Yao knew that this battle with You Yue had just begun, and the pen in her hand would become the sharpest weapon, piercing the darkness and ushering in the dawn.