Tears and farewell, the rest of the eggs are happy.

There is a saying in the online literature circle that people who don't finish writing normally and give up halfway are called eunuchs. So it just so happens that today is the leftover egg festival, cut off JJ and only leave the eggs, I think this is the festival of eunuchs.

Well, I'm also a eunuch once.

The second work "Throne of Ten Thousand Beasts" was too poor to continue, so it chose to end hastily, although the outline behind it was thrown out, but it was hardly a bad ending, and it should be attributed to the eunuch.

Today, December 25, 2016, I made such a difficult decision with tears in my eyes.

Or are the grades too poor for an unacceptable income?

Maybe it's not enough, at least compared to "Throne of Ten Thousand Beasts", or even compared to "Make a Call to the Hero", the results of "Niu Pen" so far, although they have dived repeatedly, can still be regarded as some income, at least it is more than enough to maintain a living.

Since the collapse on November 18th, there have been enthusiastic book friends, fellow writers, friends, and family members who have persuaded me not to give up, resist the pressure and relax my mind, and strive to pull the plot back.

I also want to do this, and I hope that this book, which has a good start, can have a more decent end, at least, it shouldn't be now.

But what makes me miserable now is not the income, but the emotion of writing.

After writing those four or five thousand words every day, I feel that it is a pile of complete garbage, I can't get a little joy from the process of writing, and all my efforts are paying for the previous collapsed setting, chaotic plot, and endless pits.

Every day before 0:00, I put this pile of garbage out with a wry smile on my face, thinking about those lovely book friends, with trust in me, with anticipation of this book, with hope for the future, to open a new chapter, and then ...... What you see is disappointment after disappointment......

I can still write, but what I write is not what I want at all!

Whether it's sorting out the setting, reshaping the plot, or trying to play jokes, I can't find the feeling of being freewheeling and easy to write before, instead of a bit of content that comes from pain and gritted teeth, and I can't find a reason to continue.

It's over, just today.

I'm very sorry, but I can't control the future of this book, let alone turn the tide, and even if I can't hold on to it, it's already quite difficult.

I'm sad, very sad. I know I have hundreds of thousands of readers waiting for me to give them a better story, and I know that my family needs such a small income. But I had to tearfully stop writing and make such an even more sad decision.

There are a thousand kinds of sourness, 10,000 reasons, in fact, they can't make up for the harm I have done to your dear book friends, and I have come from readers, and I know what everyone hates deeply.

I don't dare to ask for forgiveness here, but I just hope that one more person understands my current situation, and I hope more than anyone else that this book has a plausible end, and not a shameful deserter who has done so now.

It's useless to talk too much, let's talk about the future.

Next month is the Spring Festival, and I need a longer period of time to adjust my mindset and think about the structure of the new book, hoping that this time I can be more prepared so that the tragedy will not happen again.

Therefore, the plan for the new book, at least after the beginning of spring, maybe I will go to the hospital to recuperate a few problems that I have wanted to solve for a long time, and then start a new journey after my body and mood are ready.

In the end, what embarrassed me even more was the debt that I hadn't been embarrassed to mention for a long time.

Although I have made the most damned decision now, I have never intended to pay off these accounts from the beginning to the end, because it represents the support and love of my book friends, and this debt is a debt of love.

Thanks to the 30,000 reward from the book friends of "Ink-dyed White Books", in fact, I have seen it a long time ago, I just don't have the face to speak.

The three changes promised in December were actually only written for a few days, and there was an unexpected break on the 12.9th, so about the arrears, it should be 160 chapters.

In fact, I have persisted until now, thinking that one day I can regain my form, at least return the 160, and then talk about the end. But today, it's an unattainable goal.

Remember, 160, as long as I am still eating in this circle, my dear book friends, I will always admit it.

It's really unimpressive, so I won't say much.

Rest, heal, cry.

Merry Christmas to all!

May I, the leftovers, be happy.

The sword came from the west. 2016.12.25. (To be continued.) )