In the living room, Yi Feiyang looked at the surrounding decorations, one of the deer heads hanging on the wall, and a rifle mounted on the shelf, which caught his attention.

"That's what I played in Indiana last year. God, I almost fell off a cliff in pursuit of it, but God forbid, I was blessed with a great life, and I came home with honors. As for the gun, it was my grandfather's favorite weapon, it could be loaded with seven rounds at a time, and it was extremely powerful, and it could blow the head of any animal out with a single shot! Stephen King proudly presents his honors and collections.

Yi Feiyang smiled: "I also like hunting, and I have the opportunity to study together." ”

"Research? Oh yes? It's good. Stephen King smiled after a moment's pause.

Yi Feiyang picked up the rifle with his hand, loaded it, took aim, and gestured, and the rifle spun around in his palm, chic and beautiful!

Yi Feiyang praised: "Good gun!" ”

Looking at the other party's "self-cooking", Stephen King was obviously a little uncomfortable. I'm even more afraid that he will drop this antique gun of his own on the ground.

In the past, those literary young people who came to visit him, which one was either nervous, or they were at a loss, and they opened their mouths in the face of themselves. But the person in front of him obviously does not belong to this category.

Just when Stephen King was worried that the other party was holding the gun and didn't know how long it would take, Yi Feiyang put the gun back in place, then crossed Erlang's legs and sat on the sofa, looking ready to talk.

"Coffee, or tea?" Seeing Yi Feiyang sitting down, Stephen King asked very enthusiastically. "I know that you Chinese like to drink clear tea, I have here your very good West Lake Longjing, and Tieguanyin, of course, they are all purchased in Chinatown, and I don't know if Lu Dao is genuine."

"Feel free, anything." Yi Feiyang smiled. To be honest, he doesn't have much demand for tea and drinking.

"It looks like you're a person who doesn't care...... Then Longjing, I love the taste. ”

Stephen King asked people to prepare tea, then sat down and said to Yi Feiyang: "You must be very curious, why will I invite you to meet, to put it bluntly, it is still your novel." As he spoke, he put the manuscript that Yi Feiyang had sent on the table.

"There's no denying that the novel you've written is very creative, really good. I've never seen a newbie come up with a creative design for a short story so perfectly. ”

"Unfortunately, though, I have to point out that your writing is a bit ......" Stephen King pouted and gestured, as if searching for the right wording.

"I see what you mean, isn't it too bad." Yi Feiyang interface.

"Well, yes, so to speak." For Yi Feiyang's words, Stephen King was a little surprised. You must know that everyone who engages in creation is dead to save face, and it is very rare to be so frank as the Chinese guy in front of him.

"I'll admit, it's really bad, and I'm not an expert at phrasing after all, so," Yi Feiyang paused, "I'm going to show you these three short stories, and I hope you can give you some advice." Yi Feiyang looked at Stephen King with a smile in his eyes.

Stephen King is not comfortable with this type of conversation.

Although he is a writer, since he became famous, whether it is the editor of a publishing house or a book distributor, he is the one who takes the initiative when talking to him.

"Ahem, dear Mr. Yi, it's okay for me to call you that, right? I have to say, you're a very honest person, and I like people like you! So now let's get to the point...... The point is, if you put these three novels in my hands, I can revise them into masterpieces! Boutique, do you understand? It's the kind of boutique that can be featured in newspapers and magazines, or even published in a book alone! Stephen King swears.

Yi Feiyang smiled, and then said very inappropriately: "How much?" ”

"Ah, what?"

"I mean, if I sell you these three novels, how much can you give me?"

Stephen King was stunned for a moment, talking about money, talking about money hurts feelings, but it seems that the two have no feelings to talk about.

Then again, don't everyone say that Chinese want to save face, and don't they like to talk about money the most? Why is this guy Money?! Isn't he Chinese, Korean, Japanese ?!

Seeing Stephen King looking at him dumbfounded, Yi Feiyang had to remind him: "Three novels, give more money?!" ”

"Ahem, if you insist on negotiating money, then you make an offer." Stephen King's meaning is obvious, many little authors and Ben Dashen will be embarrassed to talk about money when they talk about these times, as long as I can point them out, they are already grateful, boy, you are the first.

Yi Feiyang didn't feel how ashamed it was to talk about money at this time, Chinese just want to die to save face and suffer crimes, he Yi Feiyang is not this kind of saint.

"One price, $300,000!"

For the sake of the other party's idol points, just ask for a little less, 300,000 to take care of the cost!

This is someone's well-intentioned intention.

Stephen King, however, laughed contemptuously.

"Oh, dear China Yi, it seems that you haven't figured out the situation yet; I invited you here today, not to do business with you, but because I am optimistic about you and think that you have a future, so I will talk to you so much; And you, you don't seem to see your identity clearly, you're nothing now......"

"Of course, I don't deny that maybe you may become a great writer in the future, but for now, I still hope that you can face reality. Three novels, $300,000, it's a joke! Who in the whole of America would give you $300,000 just for these three ideas? God, you think too much of yourself! ”

A series of contemptuous words, egg-aching ridicule.

But all this did not move Yi Feiyang.

To be honest, if three days ago, Yi Feiyang, who might have been short of money to death, would have considered selling his three novels cheaply, but now...... His uncle, Yi Feiyang smiled.

"Dear Mr. Stephen King, how much are these three novels worth according to you?"

"How much?" Stephen King crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, "I'll pay you up to $30,000!" That's already the largest number! His expression was full of charity.

In Stephen King's eyes, the amount he gave was enough to give the other party, shit, the average little author, let alone 30,000, even 10,000 dollars can't be earned, not to mention that the other party is still Chinese, in the United States, a country with a serious race, there seems to be no precedent for Chinese authors to get ahead.

Regarding Stephen King's "handout", Yi Feiyang shrugged his shoulders and smiled very recklessly.

"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Stephen King. I know, maybe this is the highest price you have offered, but it is too different from my request! Well, we don't have much to talk about, but I have something to tell you...... "Yi Feiyang got up and stared oppressively at Stephen King and the famous American "king of terror" in a top-down posture.

"If you don't buy my three novels now, it's okay, because they're going to sell three million in the future!"

Three million, dollars?!

Stephen King almost couldn't help but laugh.

How can it be?!

It's Chinese so humorous!!

"Unless you are really favored by God, or Lady Luck favors you, this miracle will never happen!"

Yi Feiyang knew that it was useless to say more, "Okay, you just wait and see, I, Yi Feiyang, will let you know the Tao in a short time, and what I say will become a miracle!" He got up and left.

"A miracle? Ha Luha, okay, I'll wait! Don't send it, dear friend! Stephen King sat on the couch and didn't get up, watching Yi Feiyang leave with some disdain.

A woman behind her walked over and put her arm around Stephen King's neck, "What's wrong, dear?" Why don't you send off guests? ”

"He's so arrogant, I don't like it."

"Oh yes? But the stories he wrote were really good, and I especially liked "The Miracle of the Green Mile". ”

"So what? Who would know him in such a complex place as the United States? No matter how well he writes his story, he is just an unknown person! What's more, he is still a Chinese! Stephen King laughs.

"Maybe, weren't you famous before, but now, you've become a great writer." The woman gently stroked Stephen King's hair.

Stephen King took a bite of a cigar and smiled.

"There may be Santa Claus in America, but there will never be a miracle like him!"

"What's more, to become famous in such a short time, this, is it possible?!" Stephen King shook his head and let out a puff of smoke,