The stakes in this novel are deceptively simple. On the surface, it's a girl who likes a guy who doesn't know she exists. But the author builds this tension so carefully that every small interaction feels like it could change everything. Let me break down the layers of conflict here because there are more than you'd expect at first glance. External conflict: Shu Jia is a streamer with a public persona. Zhou Dang is a professional esports player with a massive fanbase. If they get together, their worlds collide in ways that could be wonderful or catastrophic. The author hints at this with the cousin's comment — 'My classmates don't even know I have a web-celebrity cousin' — and Li Li's support sign for YG. These characters exist in overlapping social circles where reputation matters. Internal conflict: Shu Jia's own insecurity. She keeps minimizing her feelings — 'the kind of like you have for a fan, that's all' — as if that makes them less real. But the narrative keeps proving her wrong. The song she chooses. The recipe she posts. The way she cancels her plans to watch the match. These aren't the actions of someone who 'just likes a fan.' The gaming match itself is a microcosm of the larger conflict. A Hao's team is completely outmatched — '0-4-1', 'I can't take it anymore' — and yet they keep playing. There's dignity in that, but also desperation. Shu Jia is in the same position emotionally: she knows she's out of his league, but she can't stop showing up. The highest stakes moment is probably the friend request. Think about it: she's been watching him from a distance, performing her normal life, keeping her feelings locked away. And then this notification appears. It's the first real crack in the wall between them. But it's also terrifying — because now she has to decide what to do with that connection. Accept it? Ignore it? What does she say? The author also uses the professional match as a ticking clock. Shu Jia is watching WR versus YLD, and she's anxious about the game — not just because she's a fan, but because watching him compete makes her feel both closer to him and further away. He's in his element, surrounded by teammates and commentators and a stadium full of people who know him, and she's on a bench in a vet clinic with mobile data. What I love is that the author never lets us forget what's at stake. This isn't just 'will they kiss?' It's 'can two people from completely different worlds actually see each other?' The suspense isn't in whether they'll meet — it's in whether they'll recognize what they're feeling when they do. And that final line, 'Just as she was about to close the game, a small notification popped up in the bottom-right corner' — that's the moment the entire novel pivots. Everything changes. Nothing changes. The game keeps going.
This is the kind of chapter that reminds you why you keep reading. The pacing here is absolutely relentless in the best way. We open mid-crisis with the Emperor already furious, which means there's no slow buildup—we're dropped right into the fire (literally and figuratively) and we don't stop moving. The structure does something really clever with the Dengwen Drum interruption. Up until that point, we've been watching a political drama unfold—ministers arguing, the Emperor seething, Qi Xun sweating. Then the drumbeats shatter that atmosphere completely and shift the genre. It's no longer just court intrigue; it's a personal reckoning. That transition is so sharp and satisfying. I also appreciate how the author controls the rhythm within the courtroom scene itself. Shen Xiyue's testimony is delivered in these soft, weeping fragments—"Your Majesty... save me"—which creates this intimate, almost whispering quality in the middle of a massive public setting. Then Censor Song's violence (the kicks!) breaks that tension wide open. The scene oscillates between whispered tragedy and explosive anger, and it never lets up. The chapter ends on a question mark essentially—Qi Xun still claiming he'll live well with her, the officials silent, the Emperor watching. It's a perfect cliffhanger because we know this isn't over. The divorce hasn't been granted yet. Zhilan is still out there somewhere. And Shen Xiyue has just declared war in the most public way possible.
I need to just sit with this imagery for a moment because the author's description of the breakfast shop is absolutely cinematic. Let me paint it for you: warm yellow light glowing through the glass window, Grandpa Lu in a gray apron at the oil pan, the sizzling sounds, the aroma of fried dough sticks drifting into the alley. This isn't just a setting, this is a *vibe*. And then Lu Zhiye appears — simple T-shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, sealing a cup of soy milk, broken strands of hair curled slightly from the heat. The contrast between his usual aloof self at school and this version of him in the warm morning light of the shop is everything. The author writes: "His eyes were not as cold as they were at school; instead, they carried an indescribable warmth." And I was just sitting there like — YES. The sunlight filtering through the window lattice, the two shadows stretching long on the floor, the aroma of fried dough sticks mixing with the sweetness of soy milk. This is the most cozy, domestic, slice-of-life scene and I am HERE for it. Then they move to the backyard vegetable garden and it's just as vivid — tender spinach with dewdrops, spring bamboo shoots poking through soil, pea vines with pale purple blossoms. The worldbuilding here isn't about fantastical elements, it's about making an ordinary space feel so alive and textured that you can smell it, feel it, live in it. The kitchen scene with the neatly labeled bottles, the polished stove, the bamboo basket — every detail grounds us in this reality. I genuinely feel like I could walk into this alley and find the shop.
I need to talk about the bedroom scene because my heart is STILL racing. Song Tian comes out of the shower in her sleepwear, leans forward to hand Lu Beizhen the TV ticket, and her pajamas get caught and—oh my god. Everything is exposed. And Lu Beizhen's gaze drops. His throat moves. His eyes grow HOTTER. And then Fang Shuqin walks in at the absolute worst possible moment. What does he do? He turns off the light, grabs a blanket, and wraps Song Tian up in it like a burrito before his mother even fully sees. This man is trying so hard to maintain composure and I love him for it. But here's what really got me—the moment after Fang Shuqin leaves. Lu Beizhen is staring up at the stairs, thinking about Song Tian, and then he catches himself. The narration says: "This wife, Song Tian, would be divorced in six months. So all those messy thoughts—he had to crush them at the cradle. Not a single one allowed!" SIX MONTHS. He KNOWS they're going to divorce and he's actively fighting his attraction to her. That's not just tension, that's AGONY. And then the car scene—she mentions Jiang Xiaoyu sat in the co-pilot seat and his entire demeanor changes. Jealousy? Possessiveness? He says his car gets washed every three days, but really he doesn't want another woman's memory on that seat. The way he grabs her waist and lifts her over that candy bag—his thoughts immediately go to how slim her waist is and certain other places. He startles himself. This is a man who is completely losing control and he HATES it. The emotional complexity here is chef's kiss.
Bhai!!! Well doneStory bohot mast hai I am waiting for next chapter. ???????????????????????????????????
Alright, listen up—this story ain’t your typical hero's journey. It’s raw, it’s messy, and it’s dripping with greed, lust, manipulation, and a level of deceit that’ll make you question who’s really winning. The MC? Yeah, he’s not here to play nice. He’s diving headfirst into the kind of stuff that’ll make the righteous crowd squirm—morally messy choices, shady power moves, and encounters that blur the lines between ambition and indulgence.Fair warning: this ain't for the faint-hearted. If you’re looking for sunshine and happy endings, keep walking. But if you can handle the grind, the heat, and the wild ride of someone willing to burn the rules to ash, then you’re in for one hell of a story. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Overall, Tree Growing Bone: Birth of Necromancer is a captivating read for fans of dark fantasy. Despite some pacing issues, the imaginative plot and well-developed characters make it a worthwhile read. I would recommend it to anyone looking for a deep and engaging fantasy novel.
The writing quality is wonderful. The author has a way with words that leaves you wanting to read more. Expecting great things from this piece of fiction. All the best to the author :)
well, we all know what I'm gonna rate this master-peas!
Nothing better than reading a good story of revenge ☝️?, I can't wait to read more
i love what i saw , I can't wait to see the end
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