Crack.
Lin Qingyue's five fingers suddenly tightened.
The exquisite white porcelain teacup instantly shattered.
The scalding tea did not splash.
Instead, it transformed into strings of fluorescent green digital code, briefly appearing in the air.
Then, it dissolved into nothingness like a data stream.
Lin Qingyue casually tossed aside the broken cup shards and data fragments.
"My happiness has never been a low-quality script bestowed upon me by someone else's algorithm."
Within her brilliant golden pupils, the Dao Rhyme of [Yixuan] operated at full power.
The surrounding space was pulled and twisted by an invisible force.
She did not chant a lengthy incantation.
With just a single glance, her aura was enough to shake the soul.
"A dream that is too perfect is the biggest BUG in itself!"
She formed a sword gesture with her fingers.
A wisp of ink-black light, denser than the night sky, condensed at her fingertips.
"Dao Art: Delusion Breaker."
She tapped the void with one finger.
The ink-black light instantly pierced the illusion before her.
A crisp shattering sound erupted from the point of contact.
The sound waves did not cease, and the ink-black ripples swept outward in all directions, centered on her fingertip.
The azure eyes, the dazzling golden hair, the sun-drenched Greek courtyard, and even Goddess Aglaea's holy face all began to suffer severe distortions in proportion under the ink-black ripples' wash.
The scenery started to stretch and twist.
The original, fixed proportions were completely shattered, presenting a distorted, abstract sensation.
Then, all of this collapsed with a roar, like a mirror smashed by a giant hammer.
Countless fragments turned to ash and drifted away with the wind.
Crash
The Illusion completely collapsed, its fragments turning to ash.
Space reorganized.
The laws returned to their positions.
The blinding light in her vision faded, and the surrounding scenery gradually became clear.
Lin Qingyue lowered her sword-forming fingers, her gaze cold and stern as she scanned her surroundings.
According to normal logic, after shattering the false Illusion, she should have been greeted by the solemn and majestic main hall of the Temple.
And an Ancient God with world-shaking pressure.
She had even prepared herself to face a grand Judgment, or to accept some kind of oracle.
But reality slapped her back in the face.
She found herself standing in the center of an exceptionally spacious main hall.
This was likely the core area of the Temple, the residence of the Celestial God Azure Dragon, whose nobility and majesty went without saying.
Yet the scene before her made the Purifier, a veteran of countless storms, stop dead in her tracks.
There was no majestically towering Divine Throne as she had imagined.
No solemn, dustless altar.
And certainly no divine aura to inspire awe and reverence.
The place was a complete mess.
A thick, handmade wool rug covered the floor, its exquisite and intricate patterns utterly concealed by countless pieces of clutter.
Piles of unknown spirit fruit pits and dried fruit flesh stains lay scattered in the corners.
Dozens of crumpled, ink-smeared wads of waste paper were strewn about, forming miniature hills of scrap.
On the floor, several small mountains of books and parchment scrolls teetered precariously.
They seemed ready to collapse with a single slight tremor.
All sorts of scrolls and thread-bound books were tossed aside haphazardly.
Some lay open, revealing pages densely packed with text.
Others were violently crumpled into balls, their creases so deep they seemed able to hide countless secrets.
Several empty jade wine flasks lay scattered beside a pillar in the corner.
The air was filled with the musty smell of a home that never saw the sun.
Mixed with the sour tang of oxidizing old paper and the cloying sweetness of fermented fruit juice residue.
This scene was enough to make any germaphobe faint on the spot.
There was no throne symbolizing the God's authority here.
In the center of the main hall stood a massive thousand-year-old agarwood desk, wide enough to accommodate dozens of people dining together.
However, the mess on the desk was ten times worse than on the floor, a complete disaster of reference materials.
All sorts of documents were piled like mountains, forming an indestructible "wall of books" that completely blocked the view of everything behind the desk.
A neurotic mutter drifted from behind those teetering mountains of books.
The voice was hoarse, laced with irrepressible frustration and self-doubt, echoing fitfully through the cavernous hall.
"This isn't right... the logic doesn't hold up."
"The villain's intelligence-lowering aura is too obvious! The readers are definitely going to curse me out!"
"How do I advance the romance? I can't just hit a home run right from the start, can I? It needs to be gradual, gradual..."
With a frantic shout, several sheets of manuscript paper were thrown into the air.
The papers spun and fluttered down to Lin Qingyue's feet.
Lin Qingyue glanced down, and saw that those sheets of paper were covered in a chaotic web of character relationship diagrams.
Some lines were twisted and tangled, while others were simply broken.
Beside them were various emotionally charged annotations, such as "Scumbag!", "The mistress taking over?", and "This bitch's ending can't be too good!".
Lin Qingyue's eyelid twitched uncontrollably twice, and countless question marks flashed through her mind.
She suppressed the urge to complain and walked around the towering "mountain of books" on the desk.
She saw a woman sprawled unceremoniously across the table.
She wore an extremely ill-fitting, loose white silk pajama set.
The edges of the garment had frayed from long-term wear, looking old and completely devoid of luster.
Her long green hair was haphazardly pinned up with a calligraphy brush, looking as messy as a bird's nest incubating an egg.
Two half-used gel pens were even stuck inside, their tips stained with ink.
A pair of black-rimmed glasses with lenses as thick as beer bottle bottoms rested on her nose, the frames askew and ready to fall off at any moment.
Behind the thick lenses, her eyes were bloodshot from long nights of staying up, with dark circles so dense they seemed solidified beneath them.
Her left hand clutched her hair tightly, pulling with such force it seemed she wanted to tear her scalp right off to relieve the agony of creation.
Her right hand gripped a faintly glowing Runic Pen, frantically scratching out the words she had just written on a long scroll.
The scroll was covered in streaks of revisions, looking like some ancient spell or a fragment of struggling thoughts.
"No... this part is too dry... it lacks a hook..."
"The buildup isn't enough... the emotion isn't building up..."
"Why would the male lead suddenly fall for the villain here? This doesn't fit the underlying logic! Aaaargh! I'm stuck! This is so frustrating! How could I write such trash?!!"
The woman's voice was hoarse and cracking, carrying the unique weakness and mania of someone who had pulled all-nighters for over half a month.
She was incoherent, filled with desperate self-blame.
Lin Qingyue stood rooted to the spot, watching the scene for a full minute and a half.
The Grandmaster's aura granted by the [Yixuan] card could barely suppress the violent twitching of her eye.
This was the Wood of the East?
The Azure Dragon, one of the Four Celestial Gods?
The God who was legendary for being aloof and arrogant, treating mortals like ants?
Lin Qingyue took a deep breath, her mind frantically replaying the mission prompt the System had given her earlier:
[Mission Objective: Soothe the endless void of the Celestial God, Azure Dragon.]
Could this damn mission be asking her to act as a ghostwriter for this shut-in web novel author with severe late-stage procrastination, an irregular schedule, and a mental state on the brink of collapse?!
How the hell was this soothing her void?
This was clearly making her an emotional trash can, while also having to moonlight as a deadline enforcer and psychological counselor!
This was simply the ultimate challenge to her career as a Purifier!