A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 30: “Who Keeps a Diary Like a Normal Person.”

Thread: [Created a Faith, Serving a God Who Could Fall at Any Moment, Chu Zu] HOT—

For the first time reading a novel, I felt I was witnessing a legend.

You won’t get it without the finale.

I can absolutely say these millions of words were all for this ending.

The setup was masterful.

Only after finishing can you fully grasp Chu Zu’s scheme within a scheme within a scheme.

Why do I say this is the most satisfying finale?

Because only at the end do you realize the crown everyone fought to death for was just a tool, a means.

Only one could be crowned, but nobody cared about the throne.

Everyone’s goals were achieved.

Tang Qi ushered in a new world.

Dai Xi’an became the most powerful person so far (don’t argue, it’s in Sidney’s epilogue—Tang Qi’s now focused on genetic tech).

Lazar abandoned Upper District self-interest.

Sidney defended his own choices.

And Chu Zu?

The brilliance lies here.

At first, I thought Chu Zu wanted Luciano’s trust, then his status, then to climb higher, and finally, to find himself.

I know many disagree.

When his ambition became clear, he was already a vivid presence.

But the thing is, he didn’t want power for power’s sake—just because he thought it was the best thing.

Did power bring him joy?

I don’t know, but it’s strange, right?

I don’t think it attracted him, yet he pursued it.

In the end, he wasn’t fighting Tang Qi but his doomed fate.

It’s like he was the only one in the book with a destiny.

He meant to die in the train crash, but Luciano kept him alive.

Yet everything Luciano did pushed him toward death.

The promise that kept him alive slowly killed him.

It’s unsolvable.

But Chu Zu found a way.

Before, he bet his life as a stake; now, he made it the prize.

He finally chose to believe in life, in himself.

Chu Zu decided to live in the new world.

[MayaTapNi] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:25:10

This is just too wild.

Months ago, I cursed the dumb author for writing brainless characters, with the villain as a plot-pushing tool.

Beating a moron only made the protagonist look like one too.

Now I don’t think that at all.

Sorry, I’m a moron.

God Zu, the deity! Zu Clan!

[OneMangoTree] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:28:12

I followed this book before, and dropped it halfway.

Thought you guys were exaggerating.

Water armies everywhere, Neon Crown taking half.

I went back to read a few chapters, ready to fight the world.

A few dozen chapters.

Over a hundred chapters.

Zu Clan forever.

[PickItUpForMe] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:28:35

Neon Crown topped the gold list, and the final score is out.

9.4/10, only because the site doesn’t allow changing old ratings.

I remember it was 6.2/10 before.

That says it all.

[FromDunhuang] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:29:17

Sidney’s epilogue added some of Chu Zu’s perspective, and I’m crying.

He went for Sidney initially out of self-interest.

Nobody knows when he changed his mind.

Honestly, I don’t even know if he did.

Everything this man did had multiple outcomes, but Chu Zu was indeed learning to be a dad.

It’s hard to judge him.

He talked a lot but always felt silent.

When he spoke, it was either a grand lie or so simple it’s unbelievable.

Sidney’s epilogue hit too hard, stabbed me right through.

“You’re only twelve. Twelve is the perfect age to look to the future. Unknown yet boundless, you don’t know, don’t need to know, what fate is.”

I think he saw his own future then.

Seeing it, he knew he had none.

So he didn’t want Sidney to become the twelve-year-old him.

I’m broken.

Dad, Dad!!!

Just kill me, Dad!!!

[BestBuddies] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:30:08

Dai Xi’an won big.

From a struggling informant caught between districts to the top.

Sidney’s too young, Tang Qi’s not into power, Lazar’s influence wanes as capital fractures.

Only CEO Dai deserves the title.

Is she the one who understood Chu Zu best?

[TeacherWhatCrap] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:30:15

Honestly, nobody understood Chu Zu.

The author and reviser stuck to Tang Qi’s perspective.

Sidney’s parts outweigh Chu Zu’s in the end.

Chu Zu didn’t even get an epilogue—just Sidney and Tang Qi.

Sidney’s covers the past, Tang Qi’s the future.

[OneBite] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:31:28

Interestingly, everyone sees Chu Zu differently.

Luciano saw a tool that backfired.

Lazar saw a silent savior.

Dai Xi’an saw a pure gambler.

Tang Qi saw a fated rival.

Sidney saw a father.

None seem right, yet all do.

[ALLP] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:31:58

Followed since the start, cursed the bad ending, opened twelve threads demanding the author apologize to Tang Qi—that was me.

I still think the author’s great at world-building but lacked the brain to advance it.

Upper-Lower District reform isn’t simple.

Even if Tang Qi crushed everything, his vision was hard to achieve.

He represented the Lower District because they don’t bother thinking—just follow him for a better life.

The Upper District?

After killing Chu Zu, what then?

Replace one powerholder with another.

To achieve his goal, he needed a dragon.

Those vowing to slay dragons must become one to do it.

What’s with that?

Pre-revision Tang Qi was stagnant from reform to end.

I saw no change.

The author threw tough foes at him without internal struggles.

No mental growth, just spinning in place no matter how high he climbed.

Post-revision?

The districts aren’t united, but power’s deconstructed, with checks and balances.

Sidney has Tang Qi’s codes, Dai Xi’an controls Sidney, Chu Zu’s life is in Tang Qi’s hands.

If Chu Zu shaped this, I believe it’s still Tang Qi’s choice.

He didn’t have to give Sidney the codes.

Once he chose to save Chu Zu, his character wouldn’t let him back out.

He just wanted to prove to the world he wouldn’t, couldn’t, be a dragon.

The thread’s Chu Zu analysis applies to Tang Qi.

I’d guess the reviser considered this.

The more Chu Zu wanted to live, the more life pushed him to death.

The more Tang Qi chased his ideals, the more power distanced him from them.

Unless someone changes—or they change together.

Tang Qi, an Upper District native fallen to the Lower, then back by chance, gained ideals.

In this world, ideals alone aren’t enough—he had to face and step into reality.

I love the ending’s Tang Qi, spirited yet mature.

A fitting villain is crucial.

Doesn’t need many words—their pressure drives every character’s inner motive.

Is Chu Zu a god?

I don’t know.

I care more about Tang Qi.

But the reviser is definitely a god.

Just tweaking one character, barely touching the main plot, naturally elevated other characters and made the protagonist vivid.

I call it god-tier.

[PlayingHouse] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:32:03

I’m done for, hooked on Chu Zu for life.

Talking about myself.

[VillainFan] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:32:08

What are you talking about, what villain?

Don’t get it.

Isn’t Chu Zu always doing charity?

Working for capitalists for free, letting their other lackeys breathe.

Pulling CEO Dai up, getting her promotions, raises, and status, boosting her skills.

Adopting a tragic orphan, learning to be a dad online.

Even cheering on dream-chasers!

What’s this?

Cyber male Bodhisattva!!!

[I’mTalkingNonsense] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:32:15

My clear-soup lord!

The guy above must be mango-blinded.

Wake up!!!

[HalfPriceMonument] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:32:58

You’re all so cultured.

I’m different.

I stick to my roots.

I just want to eat Daddy Zu’s big mango… mango pie!

[Chop999Knives] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:33:55

…

The discussion got weird from here, racing toward mango pie.

The System was dumbfounded.

Chu Zu snapped, “Doesn’t the forum moderate derailment? This 999Knives guy derailed the whole thread—why no ban?!”

The System, dazed: “…Readers are customers, customers are gods… Host, calm down, calm down…”

Still reeling, it scrolled the thread, confirming no further posts could be evidence, then closed it, compiling earlier discussions into a document for the hearing.

Chu Zu rubbed his temples: “Where’s Earth Teacher?”

The host likely meant [PunchEarth], probably a fellow author.

The System searched the ID, sorting by timeline.

[PunchEarth]’s past posts were long and serious, but this time, the title was identical, mango emojis included.

The content kept their usual style.

Thread: [Created a Faith, Serving a God Who Could Fall at Any Moment, Chu Zu] HOT—

The story’s key figure is Sidney, appearing mid-to-late.

I read many analyses saying Sidney was part of Chu Zu’s plan.

Whether he truly loved the kid or not, I’m certain Sidney changed him.

I lean toward the “good” side.

Dai Xi’an is proof.

Everyone knows her attitude toward Sidney and her knack for reading people.

Sidney’s epilogue clarifies: Dai Xi’an said Sidney wasn’t Chu Zu’s choice but instinct.

What’s instinct?

Innate behavior triggered by specific stimuli.

Chu Zu’s old style lacked innate reflexes; his only instinct was Luciano’s promise—get the best.

What’s the instinct of an ambitious, scheming father?

Despicableness goes to my grave, but Sidney’s future will outlast my past.

His instinct for power dehumanized him.

His instinct for Sidney rehumanized him, yet his ruthless core shone through.

Top-tier characterization.

I always thought Chu Zu and Tang Qi were fated “archenemies,” but I was played.

In the end, their rivalry was just a relationship Chu Zu needed.

He had to be Tang Qi’s opposite, defeated by him, to fulfill Tang Qi’s “right” ideals.

He knew his goals didn’t conflict with Tang Qi’s, even explaining Tang Qi’s ideals to Sidney.

This indirectly confirmed Tang Qi’s earlier intuition—Chu Zu was the only one who understood him.

Indeed, Chu Zu understood too well.

He didn’t just understand; he approved.

Tang Qi fought the world; Chu Zu fought fate.

Chu Zu didn’t need to win.

Did winning matter?

He got everything he wanted.

Let’s look back at what this book was about.

An idealist gained a clear path for his ideals.

A muddled informant climbed to power’s peak.

A pragmatic personnel chief stopped valuing profit.

A survival-focused kid bet for his dad.

As for Luciano… he impacted Chu Zu most.

Before the end, his only role was his death, but… he felt like a cyber male ghost.

Seeing Sidney’s eyes, you can’t not think of Luciano.

This blood father and son were surprisingly alike, but Sidney’s smarter.

Taught by Chu Zu, after all…

Analyzing Chu Zu’s life always circles back to Luciano.

He laid a weirdly solid foundation, building skyscrapers from the ground up.

Chu Zu saying Luciano was his twelve-year-old future was sincere.

Broadly speaking, Luciano was his past and future.

But Luciano wasn’t his continuation.

Chu Zu chose his own.

The story ends with an era’s close.

From Luciano to Chu Zu, to Tang Qi stepping back for the new world, these old-era disruptors faded.

The frontier closed, and people began coexisting.

Who won, who lost, who lived, who died—it stopped mattering.

All stories became history.

In this history, calling Chu Zu a “god who could fall at any moment” is spot-on.

His changes set the new world’s limits.

You could say he became a concept, frozen in a moment, no longer meddling in others’ ideals.

Ideals shape history, and history turns pages.

The god parted with the world, which awaits his reawakening, unsure if it’s a new disaster or rebirth.

Who can break this scarlet Möbius strip?

The crown is shattered, unknown, left to prayers.

[PunchEarth] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:28:10

By the way, can the reviser reveal their pen name?

Damn, it’s too good.

Teacher, I’ll follow you forever!!!

[PunchEarth] | Posted on 2024-03-29 06:25:28

The System quietly scrolled up, hiding Earth Teacher’s fervent post from the host.

It copied the thread content into the document.

Chu Zu didn’t protest, but the System sensed his silence had a resigned, “whatever” vibe.

In the eerie quiet, Chu Zu’s review hearing began as scheduled.

As the little yellow chick System stood tall, several… more chicks appeared in Chu Zu’s mind.

Red, orange, green, blue, purple, plus the yellow chick, forming a rainbow team.

Chu Zu instantly spotted the System’s boss, the shiny blue one, as his System glared at it with resentful beady eyes.

“The hearing officially begins…”

The blue chick announced solemnly.

Chu Zu was unmoved; his System was ready, eager to turn the tide single-handedly.

Preparation paid off.

The hearing’s first half matched the System’s “charges” perfectly.

Using Chu Zu’s words, it fiercely rebutted, submitting forum evidence.

Nearly all charges were reasonably dismissed.

Chu Zu was flawless.

The second half, however, went beyond Chu Zu’s expectations.

The chicks, after serious review, nodded to each other.

The orange chick spoke up.

“Ever considered switching roles?”

Chu Zu: “?”

System: “?”

Orange chick: “We have the ‘Dragon King Correction System’ and ‘Villain Correction System.’ Lower KPIs, easier work, better-planned tasks, higher pay.”

It said, “We admire your professionalism in Neon Crown. Forum feedback exceeded expectations. Authors are placing orders, hoping you’ll revise their Dragon Kings and villains… What do you say?”

Chu Zu: “…”

What did these authors want?

A screen full of mangoes?

The words stung the System’s algorithms.

If the boss weren’t there, it’d show these managers who’s boss.

Poaching in front of the System!

“Thanks for the appreciation,” Chu Zu said.

The System felt lightning-struck.

“But I’m not switching.”

Chu Zu said, “Side Character Correction is fine. I get along well with my system. As for pay… mission evaluation out yet?”

Ignoring the boss, the System checked the backend, shouting, “S! It’s S! Thirty thousand credits post-hearing!”

Chu Zu: “I recall there’s an author royalty share?”

The System’s mechanical voice brimmed with joy: “Seven figures! But Neon Crown’s platform has withdrawal limits, and royalties take time to process, so our share will come in installments!”

Chu Zu nodded: “We’re not short on pay.”

The hearing ended anticlimactically.

Other chicks seemed disappointed, but the System’s boss stared at Chu Zu, silent throughout.

The System, muttering, sent the chicks away, calling it a sham hearing to poach in Chu Zu’s consciousness.

System: “Now I’m on guard. Unless there’s a legit reason in black-and-white rules, I’ll lock the gate—no chick feather gets in!”

Chu Zu was amused: “You can keep them out?”

System, fearing underestimation: “I can! Trust me!”

“I do,” Chu Zu said.

“Whether you trust me or not, I trust you.”

The System found the words odd, below its host’s usual level, but was soon dizzy with newfound wealth.

When the S-grade credit notification chimed, it dove into the credit mall.

Overwhelmed, it wanted everything.

Chu Zu stopped it: “Redeem yourself first.”

The system nearly forgot: “Got it.”

Chu Zu cautioned: “We’ll get richer. If something happens, no more selling yourself, okay?”

“…Strategic selling, and you’d redeem me.”

“…”

“S-grade is super rare, maybe one in thousands of missions. Thanks to you, I’m valuable now, I could fetch tons of credits!”

Chu Zu didn’t argue, coldly saying, “Sell again, and I’ll switch to Dragon King, take a new system, and live it up.”

System: “…”

System: “No more selling, never again!!”

Chu Zu nodded: “Shop.”

“Master Wang”: Man among men! Alpha among alphas! King! Master!

System: “Role auto-combat assistant.”

Chu Zu: “Buy.”

“Physics Beast”: Die faster, less danger; less danger, safer; safer, die slower—die fast, die slow!

System: “Classic fake-death prop, reliable.”

Chu Zu: “Buy.”

The System had never had competent hosts, or it wouldn’t have sold itself so deftly.

Even if a host earned a bit, they’d just redeem it, then pinch pennies, splitting one credit into halves.

But Chu Zu was different.

Wherever the chick’s head turned, no matter the absurd price, he’d coolly say: “Buy.”

The System once saw a female-oriented forum post discussing the most charming male phrases.

Third to first:

I’ll give you my life.

Marry me.

Buy.

Each shorter than the last.

The first two sparked debate, but “buy” won overwhelmingly.

The System now understood—no one, not even a system, could resist that word.

It bought a mix of items, not all for the host—some for its own upgrades, aiming for system supremacy.

Including, but not limited to, BIOS firmware, VMware, things Chu Zu didn’t understand.

It got a lovable shota voice, praised by other systems.

The old system is dead; the new one’s so strong it scares itself!

Considering Chu Zu’s acting concerns, it found a performance prop.

“Cat and Mouse Game”: World’s top con artist, who else?

You could even fool God!

Chu Zu: “…”

Mall item names were abstract.

Without the System’s experience, Chu Zu wouldn’t guess their use.

But he didn’t buy it.

“I want to learn by myself.”

Chu Zu asked, “Can I still take acting classes? I need to hone it.”

System: “Three missions before we get a break.”

Chu Zu, slightly disappointed: “Fine, during the break, I’ll take acting classes. You go up-skill too.”

The System added “High-EQ Communication,” “Workplace Boss Taming Essentials,” and “Team Communication and Motivation” to its memo.

Chu Zu: “Add one more.”

“Host, name it! I’ll learn!”

“Anti-Fraud Basics.”

System: “?”

Chu Zu, serious: “You’re too gullible. Learn to spot liars.”

The System, stunned, tried to discern if the host was subtly calling it dumb.

No luck.

In the end, it didn’t figure it out.

While sorting the shopping list, Chu Zu asked, “What’s this ‘Who Keeps a Diary Like a Normal Person’?”

The System looked.

The item stood out, its price tag a zero longer than others.

“Who Keeps a Diary Like a Normal Person”:

Do you keep a diary?

I don’t.

Who puts their true thoughts in one?

Written words aren’t true thoughts.

System explained: “An encrypted diary, meant for post-event justifications. Only the user and permitted readers can access it. We systems can’t peek.”

“But I remember it wasn’t this expensive…”

Recalling, it dug into its database.

“Oh, a past host trashed my boss in the diary, revealed after quitting. That’s why the price shot up.”

Chu Zu: “…”

Chu Zu: “Buy.”

System, incredulous: “You… you’re gonna trash me in it?”

Desperately, “You can trash me directly! I’m… tough! It’ll vent faster and save credits!”

Chu Zu: “I’m not trashing you.”

Mimicking the System’s shopping style, he spent nearly 20,000 credits on the diary.

Seeing the System still in despair, Chu Zu softened: “I’m writing notes. I’ll show you after finishing. No trashing, really.”

The little yellow chick took two deep breaths, nodding: “I’ll fetch the next mission. Write slowly.”

*

“Who Keeps a Diary Like a Normal Person” was like the old setting file.

Chu Zu could flip it open in his mind, writing like he was back creating, when he was alive, with a body.

Chu Zu wrote.

1. The System’s great. No matter what, treat it well.

2. Verified conclusions:

· Your memories can be hidden, irretrievable.

· Your current death is real death.

· Side characters absent from the main text may be erased, cause of death unclear, depending on circumstances.

· Side characters absent from the main text, with proper handling, can survive in the main plot, become key, and achieve good outcomes.

· The Side Character Correction System avoids major plot or character deviations from the original but doesn’t fully prohibit them.

· Once correction starts, authors can’t control the plot but can delete characters.

· The System’s boss suspects you.

3. To be tested:

· Can the reader forum’s time be a real-world linear time benchmark?

· Why do some readers’ times run backward? The System hasn’t noticed?

· Can the Side Character Correction System investigate your past?

· Can you choose novels to enter, even without correction requests?

· Can you alter a story’s entire trajectory?

· Can you completely change a story’s final ending?

Emphasis: Don’t rush.

You have plenty of time and chances to verify.

4. If an accident or deliberate memory suppression leaves these records unfamiliar, don’t show this diary to anyone, not even the System.

Just keep thinking:

“From the above, you know his 3,548 unsolvable deaths.”

“You must go back, save him, let him live.”

“You only have one chance.”

If you lose all memory and the prompt sparks nothing, read Sidney’s epilogue in Neon Crown.

Even if you don’t remember Sidney or Chu Zu, seeing Sidney will jog your memory.

Because Sidney is just like him.

Saving their kind is almost your instinct.

Finally, if you succeed, confess to the System and apologize, whether it forgives your secrecy or not.

Finished, Chu Zu locked the diary.

The System returned, much happier.

“You wanted acting classes, right? Our next mission involves the entertainment industry.”

“You can take classes in the novel!”