Looting the life force of demons to forge a golden body Martial God

First, I'd like to thank Book Friend 20231027120437410 for their generous gift of 500 points.

For this reward, I am truly moved to tears.

...

This noon, my grandmother passed away.

At the ripe age of 95, she didn't suffer much, which is considered a blessing in disguise.

Even so, when I received the news, I was still deeply shocked and became overwhelmed with sorrow.

After the phone call, my head buzzed, and a ringing began in my ears.

I had lunch and finished up my work.

Then, I drove 40 kilometers home to get some clothes and drove another 50 kilometers back to my hometown.

I knelt and bowed before the body of my grandmother, clad in a golden red shroud with a piece of yellow paper.

While busy with all this, my essence seemed to drain away.

My spirit floated above, while my flesh struggled in the mortal world.

It wasn't until I talked to my wife on the phone that I finally couldn't hold back my tears.

It was then that my spirit seemed to snap back into place.

My heart was troubled, grieving, mourning.

I came to realize that death is inevitable for everyone, and with death, all ties to this world are abruptly severed.

So what's the point in all this fuss?

Lying on the sofa, reading a novel, taking a sip of sugar-free cola—how carefree that would be.

Yet amidst my daze, I opened the writing software and started to write out of habit.

Secondly, a sense of responsibility in my subconscious reminded me: Today's task isn't finished yet, I should be writing.

No matter how bad my condition is, I must write.

Then, I saw Book Friend 20231027120437410's gift of 500 points.

At that moment, it really struck me as if a ray of sunshine suddenly broke through the heavy clouds and shone exclusively on me.

To me, it was as though a huge hand reached down from the heavens and pulled me back from the brink of an abyss.

My muddled brain instantly activated as if doused with a bucket of cold water, and I was completely revitalized.

Someone wants to read my book.

I must pull myself together, I have ideas left unfinished, I still have so much to write.

Again, I curse my slow typing, it's too slow.

Although my writing isn't great and mostly falls into clichés, as long as someone appreciates my work, I will keep going, striving to improve.

I can't promise I'll definitely create a great work—in all likelihood, I might still end up a failure in the end.

But I will do my utmost to show the readers the best I can offer.

And all I hope for is a clear conscience.

Recognition from everyone is the greatest encouragement for me.

It lets me know that my efforts have not been in vain and that people are reading what I write.

Such knowledge is deeply gratifying.

Thank you all.

ps. I'll be preparing for the funeral in the next two days, so I may not have time to write. I will write extra tonight and rely on a little backlog I've saved up to cover for the next couple of days.