The touch under your feet is amazing.

Albert looked down, his feet slightly open and closed, stirring the squishy sand.

This reminded him of being dragged to the beach by that group of teases when he was in school, and I have to say that a long time ago his greatest wish was to run all over the world, run unrestrained, and see the mountains and the sea, and now his wish has come true, happy, but there is not much sense of accomplishment, I have to say, human beings are really wonderful creatures.

Cecilia rested next to him, the tea drinker ran all over the beach, the self-cooked guy, here seems to have taken off all his disguise, showing a wild side, that guy, as if he had been holding back his anger for a long time, silently (probably shielded by himself) roaring for a long time, also because no one around would be so presumptuous, because the crazy action is easy to be regarded as a neurotic, no one will say anything, but the look that stays for a moment already says everything, no one will care, as long as you don't disturb them.

Maybe they'll bring up a hysterical man when they get home, but after a sentence or two, it's gone, and unless they're performing art in situ several times in a row, not many people will remember him, everyone is busy, they all have their own business, and no one has time to hang out with a stranger who might have mental problems.

Stroll along the supposedly quiet beach, with only a few people strolling here, just in time for the good weather and the salty sea breeze.

Someone is running on the sea.

Someone is gliding with a sail.

He sat down on the spot, lying in the shape of a "big", the warm sand conducted the heat from below, heated by his manipulation, and water vapor came out, and besides, it was not far from the sea, and the waves hit, and the sea buried it again and again, but Albert was unmoved, as if the sea did not exist, but looked at the sky, and the sky blue covered the vision from time to time, and he took out a stack of envelopes.

It was a letter from a reader who had written an impromptu article to the local publishing house, and he was going to see what the kind and lovely readers were going to say to him.

First of all, this one, he opened a letter casually, turned sideways to the other side of the sea, the air compressed as a protective layer to protect the paper, the letter paper was not damaged in the slightest, they were written...

[To Mr. Ace Warren Field: Shameless old thief, get out of the pit!]

[Ahhhh

[Shameless old thief returns my goddess!]

[You have the ability to write short stories, you have the ability to open a pit, you have the ability to make waves again, you have the ability to write essays, where have you run away for so long, dead ghost! Don't you plan to continue writing the Russian sulfur deep-sea series? Keep writing, spicy chicken, when I find you, I will use this kitchen knife to die with you!]

[I'm going to send you a blade!!]

You see, what a kind greeting, when you receive such a letter proves that someone is unhappy, and when someone is unhappy because of your results, the sense of accomplishment will naturally overflow, ah, what a wonderful feeling, praise!

Just use this pen name to publish a book that claims to be two million words complete, just write a space opera theme that has never appeared in this world, the Galaxy Empire vs. the Zerg, get those science fiction brain holes out, quantum jumps, ghost energy reactors, particle cannons, antimatter annihilation bombs, antimatter colliders, engineering machinery, space fortresses, wormholes, artificial ecosystems, atmospheric engineering transformation technology, artificial planets, and when these concepts emerge and arouse the interest of readers, almost 300,000 words will not be written.

Albert's heart has no fluctuations, and he even wants to touch it, touching the fish every day, eating chicken every day and not getting fat, it's really good.

Very casually thought of an idea that was likely to drive the editor crazy, he turned his back to the sky again, he was in a bad mood recently, I don't know where someone was eyeing him, he was expressionless and thinking about whether he wanted to take revenge on the pressure of social transfer, and finally thought about it or forget it, it was too naïve to do that, and he might be beaten to death, and he was too lazy to write so many words.

It's just surprising that there are so many readers who have a "deep love" for themselves.

The fans I saved a long time ago are still there...

Even if you work hard to practice your writing, even if you don't copy even a classic sentence in a book, even if you don't even learn from a propaganda model, even if you avoid the repetition of the theme or even go on the wrong path, Don Quixote jokes that there is a hole in your brain, and the knowledge inherited from the previous world is also "strange in style", "too big in the brain", and "distinctive in the eyes of readers here" Even if the writing is not so good, even if it is very spicy, just selling brain holes can attract a large number of loyal readers, just like if you travel back to the 19th century to write science fiction, people write about airplanes, tanks and submarines, you write a Star Wars, is there a comparison? No, from the moment he wrote the first word on the manuscript paper, he was "cheating".

Therefore, as a matter of course, the manuscript was published, the readers liked it as a matter of course, and the fame of it became as a matter of course, and it turned out that I didn't even have a sense of accomplishment when I completely crushed my opponents, but I felt a trace of guilt in my heart———— which could not be called competing on the same stage.

Albert felt something poke himself.

He turned his head slightly, and saw that Cecilia's pair of vertical pupils were still shrinking and soothing, her dark eyes were bent into crescents, with a bright smile, her face similar to the eastern face was pressed against the sand, she stretched out her index finger and kept poking and prodding, so he opened his mouth and bit it expressionlessly, but he didn't bite, and the cat girl let out a triumphant laugh, and continued to poke intently, poking the flesh on the wizard's face and denting it, and did not let go.

He exhaled, "Wife." "Hmm. ”

"Don't you feel impulsive?" "What?"

"Look at the blue sky and white clouds, the blue sea and waves, everyone is releasing vitality and consuming calories. His tone became subdued, "Don't you have the urge to run, just lie here with me and bask in the sun as a salted fish?!"

The turquoise sea crashed over and pushed on him, adding to the persuasiveness of his words, but Cecilia just shook her head: "Why do you want to run, I'm not a canine." "Your species has changed. "There's something wrong, it's normal." "Can you come up with a little bit of the cat's cold style, a little smarter, stupid and cute, it's pure stupidity, the outer layer of leaves is not for eating, you have to peel off." "Is that so?" she looked at the last bit of something that looked like a zongzi in her other hand, and stuffed it into her mouth without care, the high-temperature flame burning on her hand, removing the grease, "Anyway, it doesn't make much difference." ”“。。。 ”

They continued to lie down, like two salted fish being dried.

Until the passing seabirds excrete in the air, their rectum is uncontrollable, but the excrement is evaporated by ultra-high temperature in mid-air, burned thoroughly, and turned into a wisp of green smoke.

Albert thumped the sand beneath him, and the earth spike flew with electricity, hitting the bull's-eye.

It continued to fly, just to fly and the lightning flashed, it twitched, looped indefinitely, and the two continued to play dead.