2 I noticed the novel uses a lot of exaggerated internal monologue, like “images from adult films flashed through his mind” and “he would demonstrate them personally.” It’s a bit cringe, but it fits the MC’s initial character as an inexperienced, horny college grad. After the betrayal, that tone completely shifts, which I actually thought was effective.
The way Jiang Ruohua just flipped the script on Prince Ying and Zhao Yuexi was so satisfying. Like, she used to be all soft and easy to push around, but now she's calling Zhao Yuexi out for being manipulative and telling her to kneel if she wants help. I was cackling at that part. It's rare to see a female lead who goes from doormat to boss without dragging it out for chapters. The dream plot device is a bit cliché, but it works here because it gives her a solid reason to change
The moral ambiguity around the system's mission is interesting. Su Zhiruan is essentially being paid (in immortality) to be a surrogate for the emperor. But she's not being forced, and she sees it as a job. The system is honest about the risks ("planes collapsing"), which adds integrity. I'm curious if the story will explore consent, power dynamics, or the ethics of using the system. Probably not, but the potential is there.
I honestly can't remember exactly where I lost interest, but I deeply regret continuing with this story for as long as I did. The main character, unfortunately, comes off as a rather brain-dead and pretentious figure. Her only notable traits seem to be her loud, brash demeanor and an impulsive nature that only surfaces when the plot demands it. There are moments throughout the narrative where I hoped to see growth, complexity, or even some level of emotional depth, but instead, I found myself facing a character who often seems to lack any genuine motivation or intelligence. It’s frustrating to witness a protagonist who rarely exhibits any substantive development and whose actions feel hyperbolic and unearned. The interactions she has with other characters often feel contrived, as if they exist merely to prop up her over-the-top personality without providing any meaningful insight into her character or the story itself. There's little in the way of nuanced character relationships or organic conflicts; rather, we get a barrage of loud proclamations with minimal depth. In essence, what could have been a compelling journey of self-discovery and growth has instead devolved into a tale driven by clichés and superficiality. It’s disappointing to see so much potential wasted on a character who is more noise than narrative. If only the author had spared more thought for her development instead of relying on tired tropes. Perhaps this story could have resonated more deeply with readers.
The author does a good job of showing Fang Bai's thought process. We get his reasoning for every decision, from the armor to the weapon choice. It makes the story feel like a survival guide as much as a novel, which is a fun blend.
Okay, I gotta say, the opening scene hit hard. Qiao Rong is literally dying in the rain, and this guy Fu Beijun just steps over her like she’s trash. The way he squats down, presses her wound, and smiles while saying sorry is genuinely creepy. I felt my skin crawl. It’s such a brutal way to introduce a character, and it immediately sets the tone that he’s not just some brooding pretty boy—he’s straight-up cruel.