Chapter 183: Making a Golden Finger is really hard!

**Chapter 183: Crafting a Golden Finger Is So Hard!**

“How hard could it be to make a golden finger?” Besides, the main framework was already done—now he just needed to fill in a mountain of details.

Simple!

Ahhhh! What “a few minor details”? It was clearly *a ton* of stuff!

Sheng Qingquan had never imagined writing could be this hard.

Especially prompt-based writing. He’d written plenty of those during Chinese exams before. He even remembered scoring full marks on his gaokao essay!

This should be a piece of cake. Why was it so painful now?

He already knew exactly what would happen—all he had to do was follow the plot. So why, after struggling for hours, had he barely managed to squeeze out a few words?

It felt like dancing in shackles!

Staring at the less-than-300-word passage he had painstakingly revised all day, Sheng Qingquan started having an existential crisis.

Why is life like this?

At this rate, he’d never finish in time.

Ugh. Sheng Qingquan was tempted to ignore all the restrictions, but he knew too well that if he did, the text he sent back would come back as a mess of redacted blocks ████ for his past self.

At crucial moments, perfectly good words would turn into ████ (censored).

For example, if he tried to warn his past self about a crisis arriving on December 7, 3025—

Welp, useless. No matter how clearly he wrote the date, his past self would see: ████ year, ████ month, ████ day, a crisis will arrive.

What good is that?

Oh, it *is* good for one thing—it just amps up the panic.

In short, he couldn’t get across both the exact timing and the full details of the crisis. He had to pick one.

Compared to the timing, the specifics of the crisis were way more important for solving the problem.

So Sheng Qingquan decided to save the details.

But that didn’t mean the timing wasn’t still a big deal.

Time mattered just as much, okay?

Luckily, though he couldn’t say it outright, he could drop hints.

So this story not only had to follow the plot, but also find clever ways to hint at when the crisis would strike.

Suddenly, the difficulty level jumped ten times harder.

After racking his brain and staring uselessly at the golden finger for ages, Sheng Qingquan finally snapped and turned to the Heavenly Dao of Heavenly Blue Star.

*Sigh*… How about you write it?

The Heavenly Dao of Heavenly Blue Star was, in fact, the planet’s sentient will.

The planetary consciousness of Tianlan Star had been around for eons, witnessing and enduring countless things. To say the least, from ancient times to the present, how many literary giants had emerged on Tianlan Star? If the children were so outstanding, then the planetary consciousness must be even more exceptional.

Wouldn’t its literary talent outshine mine tenfold?!

No—hundreds, thousands of times over!

Writing would be a cakewalk for it—way easier than my current mess.

“I’m locating your position.”

The consciousness of Tianlan Star stated bluntly.

So, no can do!

Sheng Qingquan wished they could trade places. But back then, he was just a regular Joe. He could try locating it himself, sure—but that’d be playing with fire. One wrong move and he might accidentally wipe out his other self.

Compared to erasing himself completely… eh, better stick to writing.

Writing it himself had perks.

Sheng Qingquan consoled himself.

At least he knew himself best. However tangled the hints he wrote, his other self would definitely understand!

If someone else wrote it for him, that wouldn’t work.

No choice—he had to suck it up and power through.

Suddenly, some images popped up in Sheng Qingquan’s mind.

“Busy cooking, yet listening to the news so intently? Is the author just filling space?”

“This author didn’t even bother naming the random nobodies!”

“The novel doesn’t specify the exact time—total amateur hour! Writing something this dangerous without clearly stating the date and location is unacceptable!”

“And yet the novel goes into excruciating detail about everything else, drowning us in fluff, but leaves this part completely blank.”

Sheng Qingquan saw his past self ranting furiously.

Yikes, he roasted himself harder than anyone.

Nobody could top his harshness.

But after seeing these fragments due to the passive effect of the Time Controller’s ability, strangely enough, Sheng Qingquan found his writing flowing again.

Ideas poured out like a faucet.

After all, no matter how poorly he wrote, someone would still grudgingly power through it.

Even picking apart every word endlessly.

At that thought, it clicked—his mental fog lifted, and suddenly he knew exactly how to write.

Why be so hard on himself?

Because of course, he *should* push himself!

If he could peek ahead already, he would’ve used his ability long ago to find the completed golden finger and lifted the text inside word for word.

After all, there's no copyright issue when copying from yourself.

Sweet!

Too bad.

Sheng Qingquan shook his head in regret and scribbled away furiously.

Thankfully, once he stopped obsessing over perfection and no longer nitpicked the quality, the writing flowed smoothly.

Sheng Qingquan blazed through the work and finished in no time.

He also added incentives.

Too bad it wasn’t a one-step process. To ensure the Golden Finger could successfully travel through time, it couldn't be too powerful. It needed part of its abilities sealed, toned down to seem harmless.

Luckily, with the right strategy early in the Doomsday, the danger level wouldn't be too high.

Even with insufficient strength, success was still achievable.

Once he saved the world a few times and accumulated enough power, the Golden Finger would automatically unlock. By then, it could help him wrest advantages from enemies and strengthen itself.

As he plotted, Sheng Qingquan crafted the Golden Finger and finally completed the product.

After confirming there were no oversights, Sheng Qingquan started slapping on layer after layer of seals.

Successfully making the Golden Finger completely unremarkable, Sheng Qingquan examined the finished product with satisfaction. Coincidentally, the Blue Star had just locked onto its coordinates.

A river of time unfurled before Sheng Qingquan.

At the other end of the river, he saw his younger self—bored out of his mind and half-asleep.

Sheng Qingquan tossed the Golden Finger into the river of time.

It rode the current downstream.

Moments later, he saw that still-inexperienced version of himself instantly leap up, shock wiping all sleepiness from his face.

“What? This is actually a space-survival apocalypse novel world, and the Doomsday is happening today?!”