Over the past few months, I have endured the agony bestowed by life, struggling both physically and mentally in its grip.

Life resembles a scale: one end bears "reality," the other "the heart." For me, the weight of reality grows ever heavier, tilting the balance and breeding anguish.

People often wander too long on their paths, becoming lost in the scenery along the way, forgetting why they set out in the first place.

Such is the truth. Amidst the pain, I find myself adrift in waves of confusion.

Since completing my last book, I have spent this rest period searching for direction, seeking the original purpose that once ignited my journey.

About five or six years ago, I began immersing myself in novels.

The Journey of Wandering was my first, followed by Desecration, Zhu Xian, Mad God, Beast Taming Pavilion, Boiling Beast Blood, Mount Shu, The Solitary Immortal, and countless others.

Yet, the more I read, the more frustration festered within me. Protagonists were invariably blessed by fortune, righteous, and noble, while antagonists were reduced to foolish, grotesque caricatures—glorified paper tigers who crumbled at the protagonist's touch.

This sparked a desire to witness a true villain—one who stood apart, unapologetically dark, decisive, and unyielding. A being who flaunted his malice, devoid of hypocritical virtue.

His visage radiated pure malevolence, draped in demonic aura and bloodlust. He thrived on trampling rules and slaughtering the righteous.

Alone, he waged war against the world, sowing terror among all living things. A grandmaster of evil—sometimes domineering, sometimes cunning, sometimes merciless—he loomed atop the pinnacle, sneering at the mortal realm. All who dared challenge him met wretched ends.

Brutal in method, perhaps even dabbling in sinister insects, he left no doubt about his nature.

What name suited such a being? "Supreme Demon Lord"? "Black Mountain Old Fiend"? "Green-Robed Ancestor"?

No.

After contemplation, "Gu Master" emerged.

Coincidentally, when creating an account on Qidian, this ID was born.

TV tropes often depict villains monologuing after defeating the hero, only to be overturned by a last-ditch counterattack. When roles reverse, defeated villains suddenly weep, vow redemption, then attempt a futile betrayal before being righteously smote by the hero's blade.

Other villains kidnap loved ones, yet their schemes inexplicably collapse through sheer "fate."

Six years ago, when I created the ID "Gu Master," I yearned to craft an authentic villain—a figure defying societal norms, unrestrained and unapologetic. Ruthless, unswayed by emotions or beauty.

His infamy chilled the world. Those who understood him revered him; those who despised him schemed in vain, only fueling his ascent.

Cloaked in solitude, his cold eyes pierced through falsehoods. He scoffed at criticism and flattery alike, embracing isolation as his companion.

He marched toward triumph or ruin—a warrior treading a solitary path through darkness, crushing all obstacles. Gods or buddhas barred his way? Slay them all.

This vision lingered in my heart for years. Though I often hesitated, doubting my skill, time eroded both my resolve and the world I once knew. Memories turned hazy, the dream buried beneath dust.

Yet recently, pausing to reflect, I realized: Life isn't cooking. You don't prep ingredients before igniting the stove. Life is hasty. Even "preparedness" lacks the final breeze to set sails.

Thus, against the backdrop of the prophesied 2012 apocalypse, I resolved to write Gu Master—a story six years in the making.

No title fits better. This is the fruit of a seed planted long ago.

The protagonist is an unrelenting villain, clawing toward his goals without mercy. The "antagonists" here are paragons of virtue—righteous geniuses and honorable sects.

Expect no monologues after victory. The hero's loved ones? Leverage them ruthlessly. Enemies, no matter how powerful or beautiful, perish without hesitation.

Yes, this book kills women—beautiful ones, relentlessly. Those who drool over beauties or chase romantic tropes will find no solace here. A true demonic overlord doesn't falter at a pretty face.

This tale embraces the villain's madness, rebellion, cruelty, and tyranny. By Longkong's standards, it's "morally deviant"—a label I proudly claim.

Reading is for pleasure. This book is dark; proceed with caution.

Welcome those who seek this journey. To those offended: farewell. Countless gems await on Qidian; I'll even recommend some.

This is both the preface and my declaration.