I've always felt like I'm not going to write very real anymore. As a storyteller, I was afraid to write the original words, but I wanted to relay their real conversation.

Because I was afraid that what I had made up or some of my own ideas would be put in quotation marks, in case a real person, who was the prototype of the character in my novel, took a seat and protested to me: "That's not what I said!"

Their protest should be established, obviously I made it up, and as soon as I put it in quotation marks, I will be responsible.

When I write this time now, I recall and reminisce about the lives of Wanfeng and Siluo, and try not to make up between a pair of quotation marks.

is like writing about Miss Siluo's tangled heart, the following short paragraph is the original words: If Miss Siluo really goes out to sell herself to make money, her mother will definitely not stop her.

The girl will tell her mother: I have asked for money from a client of a prostitute so that I can have living expenses at school.

My mother would say that it was great, and that if you want to go home, you don't need the money, and she would say, "It's good to be able to give so much money."

The girl knew in her heart that this kind of business was exactly what her mother had made her daughter choose, as long as she had the courage and strength, as long as she was not exhausted by the pain she felt every day.

I always feel that this emotion cannot be replicated, and I am afraid that writing it will destroy the feeling I once had. Or I feel that I can't write her story well.

I wonder why my mind is full of images of them, but they are indeed walking in my book at the moment.

However, it has been almost a month since I changed it again and again, and this new book is still changing back and forth.

So I let myself immerse myself in "Xiang Siluo".

It's really a dangerous thing to write about reality and abuse, and it's unpopular and depressing, but it's indescribably wonderful.

I fell into writing and writing and I didn't know how to continue writing, and I would think of the situation of Siluo and Wanfeng, and all kinds of scenes of them came one after another, oh my God, I really couldn't write anymore.

The more I wrote about the unplanned plot, the more I didn't want to write about the girl who remembered it, I wrote it. I just wanted to try not to write such a sad plot, but suddenly I wrote it again, and I made myself cry every time I wrote a chapter.

They are the late maple and the thought of falling, the embodiment of the most stubborn desire rooted in my heart, no matter how time washes away, it will not change. No matter how long it takes, it's no stranger.

Hi, Wanfeng, Siluo, we met again. It's a pity that I really can't write anymore, and then several of them are all in Suzhou, Guo Meng's business is not good, Siluo supports while working, and there is a period of time in the middle Siluo is sick, and it is Wanfeng who takes care of her by her side.

Siluo knew that Ruyi and Guo Meng were together, and he didn't quarrel or say anything to choose forgiveness, and he silently left to live in another city.

Later, Wanfeng knew where Siluo was, so she went to see her, but the two of them were not together......