The moment Tang Feng blessed his Novice Staff from white to red, I actually mouth-wide oped. It went from +3 magic attack to +20 magic attack plus spirit and crit chance. That’s insane. And it’s untradeable and undroppable, so he’s gonna keep that staff forever unless he gets something better and blesses that. I love that the blessing still lets him equip it even though the staff is technically level 1? Wait, no, it says “Untradeable” but doesn’t mention level restriction after blessing. That’s another sneaky advantage – low level red gear is still red gear. This is pure wish fulfillment and I want it.
Initially, I had high hopes for this webnovel. I truly enjoyed it at the beginning. The premise revolved around an underdog protagonist who didn’t possess any overpowered cheats; his only advantage was his knowledge from the modern world. This refreshing take was a welcome departure from the typical narratives where heroes grind tirelessly until they become nearly invincible, capable of trampling over anyone in their path. Instead, our protagonist's strength came from his skill with weapons, which was a breath of fresh air and added an element of realism to his journey. However, everything changed when the so-called "NTR-esque" arc kicked in. I’m not exaggerating when I say that my heart shattered when the bandits tossed his engagement ring with Snow into the fire. It was a visceral moment that left me reeling with frustration and anger—far more intense than the moments of betrayal I've encountered in other stories like "Tate no Yuusha." In that series, there is a concrete method to the emotional turmoil presented; however, in this particular scene, the author fell drastically short. While the protagonist's body is that of a child, his mind harbors the memories and experiences of two lifetimes, which ideally should grant him a maturity that surpasses that of the bullies tormenting him. Rather than portraying him as the knowledgeable and shrewd individual he ought to be, the author rendered him as an oblivious, naïve victim—one who screams helplessness to the point where readers could easily dismiss him as being unworthy of salvation. This disastrous arc spanned merely one or two chapters (thankfully, I’ve tried my best to erase it from memory), but the ramifications were significant. To my surprise, the author originally intended to expand this dismal scene, only to backtrack once inundated with a flood of hate mail from readers who were clearly dissatisfied. Following that cringe-worthy choice, the narrative became agonizingly dull. Even the protagonist's subsequent stint as a crossdressing maid—a blatant attempt at fanservice—could not salvage the story, and mind you, I usually have a soft spot for both traps and maids. However, in response to his readers' strong backlash, the author abandoned this crossdressing arc after just a single chapter. The single biggest blunder an author can make revolves around stripping away the sole redeeming quality of a protagonist who is otherwise quite hopeless. Yes, I appreciated that our hero wasn’t overpowered—that was a fantastic decision. It was fine that he lacked magical abilities; this absence only opened up additional potential for creativity in his journey. Furthermore, the fact that he wasn’t inherently likable didn’t concern me; not every protagonist needs to have charm or appeal. His utilization of knowledge from his previous life to gain an upper hand in this new world was commendable and added depth to his character. But then that horrendous scene unfolded, where the author stripped him of his tools, sold him into slavery, and tore him away from the love of his life, leaving readers feeling immense outrage. What remained for our protagonist? Essentially nothing. He became a powerless slave boy on a demon continent, stripped of his agency and purpose. I understand that the author may have wished to introduce hardship and adversity into the protagonist's life, but this was not the correct approach. It would have been acceptable had the MC exhibited humor, a strong will, or sharp intellect, but unfortunately, he displayed none of these attributes. The entire narrative trajectory became a painful journey of a character whom I struggled to empathize with. In hindsight, it would have been far more prudent for the author to delete that regrettable scene and rewrite the story from that point onward rather than continue on a path of misguided experimentation. I attempted to revisit the story in the hope that perhaps the MC would redeem himself, yet my efforts were met with continued disappointment. As for whether he ever reunites with Snow, I can’t say for sure; I’ve ultimately resigned myself to the notion that this journey is no longer worth my time.
1 The car crash scene was wild. Yang Lianhu just plows into the MC at 160 km/h, and the MC not only survives but gets up and kills him with one hand? That’s a serious power spike. For someone who only just started cultivation, he’s already crushing Yellow-rank martial artists like paper. I know it’s for the revenge plot, but I wish they’d shown him training or adjusting first.
1 No one is talking about Pu Ge’er enough. He’s just a toddler (not yet 5) and he’s mentioned almost as an afterthought. “What about Pu Ge’er?” the mother asks. And then Chunxi says he needs to stay behind because “children under ten are the future.” I felt for him. He’s a prop at this point, but I hope the story gives him more presence later. Right now, he’s more of a symbol than a character.
I'm torn on the pacing. The first part, where Youki repeatedly defeats and heals the hero party over a month, is handled well in a few paragraphs. But later, the time skip to the guild feels rushed. I wanted more of his journey leaving the castle and adjusting to human society. Still, the speed kept me from getting bored.