Faced with Xia Yu's doubts, Wen Ziying replied: "It's too heavy, the winner of the Morning Award, what a dystopian modern literature master, I'm obviously just an ordinary literary girl!" ”

"Are you really ready to close the pen?" Xia Yu asked.

"I'm going to have a press conference tomorrow!" Wen Ziying replied firmly.

"No regrets or anything?" Xia Yu asked again. At this time, it is better to ask clearly than to regret it after a while.

"If I had left before, I might have a little regret, but now that I have won the morning award, what else do I regret?" Wen Ziying asked rhetorically.

"When you're completely decided, I'll introduce you to a job." Xia Yu assured.

"Okay." Wen Ziying agreed, "Quickly throw away the manuscript paper, let's play a game!" ”

Picking up the manuscript paper in front of him, Xia Yu threw them into the trash, picked up Wen Ziying's notebook and clicked on the game.

After playing until the morning, Xia Yu returned to his body.

Wen Ziying stood up and stretched.

Although she stayed up all night, she didn't feel tired.

Opening the cabinet, she took out all the manuscript paper inside.

In this, it's all the beginning, prose poems and so on that she wrote before.

Moving the manuscript papers out, Wen Ziying found a cardboard box and put them in. She opened a locked drawer and took out all the originals that had been in place so far, and threw them into the cardboard box.

Holding the cardboard box, she came to the yard.

"Miss." The nanny came up to help, but Wen Ziying refused.

Putting the cardboard box down, Wen Ziying and the nanny asked for a lighter and lit the manuscript paper.

The flames scorched the air, and the black ashes floated upward, rose into the air, and dissipated.

The ashes in Wen Ziying's heart also slowly dispersed and melted.

When her father was still alive, she liked to write stories and essays because it would please her mother, but when her father died, everything changed.

Although Wen Ziying still sees a happy smile when she hands over the written things to her mother, she knows that her mother is not happy for her, but happy for the manuscript to be published.

After such a period of time, she completely lost her passion and inspiration for creation, but then came the oppression of her mother.

Writing went from being a happy thing to a sparse and mundane thing, and then to a thing that was accompanied by pain.

Until now, dreaming back at midnight, Wen Ziying still feels terrified of the situation back then.

She wrote many prose poems, but she did not dare to submit one, because this is what she wrote when she was a child, and whenever she failed to submit, her mother would press her on the small table and make her reflect.

With such a deliberate avoidance, Wen Ziying thought that she had forgotten what happened when she was a child, and thought that she had regained her enthusiasm for writing.

However, half a year ago, because of the adaptation of "White Bird", because of the fact that a book was not well written, she was crusaded on the Internet, blocked at the door of her home, and blamed in letters, which made Wen Ziying feel that fear again, her passion for writing, and her painstaking search for new experiences, not to write a better story, but to not be blamed.

She hated the job, the tear-filled paper, the pen in her red hand, the low table that had to be bent over, the sounds that surrounded her.

"Ma'am." The nanny's voice woke Wen Ziying.

Looking towards the door, Wen Ziying saw her mother Bian Guping.

Bian Guping stood on the side of the threshold, staring blankly at the burning manuscript paper.

"Look at my mom." Wen Ziying said to the nanny.

She stepped back into her room and pulled out the trophy for the Morning Award.

She stuffed the trophy into Bian Guping's arms: "This is for you, what you have always wanted." ”

Without looking at Bian Guping's reaction, Wen Ziying walked out of the house, she took out the bicycle from the garage and galloped on the village road, venting her emotions.

By noon, the emotions were almost cathartic, and Wen Ziying returned home.

When passing by the door of Bian Guping's house, she looked inside, Bian Guping did not stare at the chrysanthemums in the yard today, but at the trophy of the morning award.

Wen Ziying can't remember how her mother was crazy, and the only memory is that she spilled confetti all over the ground, shredded, and it was her mother's most proud prose to write chrysanthemums.

Retracting her gaze, she went to the kitchen, grabbed something to satisfy her hunger, and went back to the bedroom.

She first called the publishing house to tell her about the decision, and Wen Ziying posted on the forum again.

When she was done, she threw away her phone, and she was completely relieved.

If you don't write it, what should you do next? She thought.

In the days before, she was either writing or thinking every day, occasionally playing games to numb herself, and nothing else.

I don't need to write it now, my life is empty for most of a sudden.

After searching in her heart for a while, Wen Ziying found something she was interested in.

Who the hell is that guy who calls himself a stand-in messenger?

At this time, the stand-in messenger Xia Yu was reading the post that Wen Ziying had just posted.

Xia Yu's first reaction was to sigh: It's really closed.

Then he thought about his mission.

Introducing Wen Ziying to work in the Yu family, and the task of guiding Wen Ziying's life should be completed, and the star fragments will be available immediately.

He smiled.

"Happy what?" Xu Youxiang handed the potato chips in front of him.

"Something is finally coming to an end." Xia Yu opened his mouth, and while biting down on the potato chips, he bit Xu Youxiang's fingers.

ate Xu Youxiang's potato chips on the left, and An Siyao on the right handed over apple slices.

Putting the apple slice in Xia Yu's mouth, An Siyao immediately withdrew her hand, afraid that Xia Yu would bite her.

But she could escape her fingers, and she couldn't escape her face.

Hu Lianglu, who was opposite the three of them, looked coldly at Xia Yu hugging left and right.

"What's done?" Xu Youxiang asked again.

Xia Yu thought for a moment and replied: "A game account matter." ”

The game account is a secret word, and An Siyao and Xu Youxiang both know it.

"Got another woman?" Xu Youxiang closed her hand and let Xia Yu bite into the air.

"No, I'm glad I can get something, something that's more magical, but I don't know what it is." Xia Yu said to the two.

"What is it, I bought it for you." An Siyao tried to use money to please Xia Yu.

"It's not an ordinary thing, if you can see it, I'll show you when I get it."

After being intimate with the two for a while, Xia Yu came to Xu Youxiang's body, he had to start working, and the research on ALS drugs had not yet been completed.

In the afternoon, during the break, Xia Yu generously used Xu Youxiang's body to read Xu Youxiang's seal to announce.

"You actually have a leg with a schoolgirl!" Xu Youxiang snorted, and couldn't help but ask curiously: "What you said was done to help her quit the literary circle?" ”

"Hmm." Xia Yu nodded, "I'm going to introduce her to Yu Ningmeng as a translator, don't worry, I won't come forward." ”

Xia Yu thought that when the introduction was finished, the star fragments would probably be available.