After meeting Tassie, who has become an undead, Claire appears to be on her mind and leaves the bar satisfied.

As soon as she left the bar with her front foot, Tassie in front of the bar changed her expression and looked at Ringer as if she were meritorious.

"Lord Ringer, how did I behave?"

Ringer poured her a beer, complimented her, but seemed unwilling to say more, and when she had finished a drink, he calmly asked her to leave.

Tassie looked nostalgic, but still obeyed his orders, put down his glass, and reluctantly left the bar.

"You made her do that?" Elise couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, but I don't think she's exactly pretending, and those words are more or less representative of what she really thinks." Ringer opened the thick black book in front of him and said no more.

After a brief lull, the store soon welcomed its next customer.

Miss Rookie Witch, who is from the Black Forest and still can only write boring words after more than a hundred years of writing, Dale.

Dale sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine, and as she waited for Ringer to serve it, she put her chin on her chin with one hand and looked distressed.

"Mr. Ringer, can you give me some advice?"

"What is your opinion?" Ringer responded to her as he blended the different liquors.

"How can I write something that is popular?"

Ringer placed a glass of mixed wine in front of her and said with a smile, "I rarely have it, and even if I give you some advice on this matter, I am afraid it will not help you. You might as well ask the other witches around you and ask them about their success stories."

"I asked them, but the way they wrote didn't work for me at all." She took a sullen sip of her wine.

"For example?"

"For example, I have tried all kinds of methods such as taking off my essence and writing in the forest, or drinking potions that inspire me, writing in magic circles, divination writing, writing in dreams, and writing in the separation of spirit and flesh, but none of them worked."

After listening to Dale's statement, Ringer was suddenly very curious about the creative state of the group of witches, and whether those methods really worked?

"Layla, do you have any good advice?" He looked at Layla.

Layla, as a loyal reader of Nightingale Press, may be able to give some normal advice.

Dale looked at Layla expectantly, she had never asked anyone other than witches for advice, after all, she spent most of her time in the Black Forest, rarely communicating with outsiders.

And because she writes rubbish, unlike other witches, she can often receive letters from readers, and she also hopes to receive a letter from readers, but in her more than 100-year writing career, only a few stupid pigeons that sent the wrong letter landed on her windowsill and brought other people's letters to her.

"If I were to write," Layla said as she closed the magic book, earnestly, "the first one I would choose to imitate, imitate my favorite." Most of the learning starts with imitation, and of course, I'm embarrassed to publish it if the final work is too similar to the person being imitated, but it's a kind of training."

"Imitation?" Dale blinked, a way she had never tried.

"Yes, you have so many excellent teachers around you who have written enough to fill an entire library, and if you pick out ten of their works and imitate them, I'm sure you'll make significant progress."

"Okay, I'll try what you said, thank you."

"If you want to know how your work is, you can also show it to me, I'm here every day." Layla laughed.

"Thanks, I'll remember."

Although she is already an old woman who is at least a hundred years old, she may have been in isolation for a long time, Dale is not only a beautiful girl on the outside, but also shows a mind that is also in line with her appearance, and when she is with Layla, she is like her peers, and it is completely impossible to infer her real age from her appearance.

Dale finished his drink and hurried away, seemingly eager to go back and try something new.

Shortly after she left, only about ten minutes into it, another familiar witch came to the store.

Seeing the angry expression on Cipona who walked into the store, Ringer couldn't help but ask, "What

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You look like you're angry?"

Sivona sat down at the bar, ordered a glass of wine, and gritted her teeth, "It's Dale, that idiot, who dared to blatantly plagiarize what I wrote. She used to write boring, but at least she wrote it herself, and now she is doing such shameless things."

Ringer, who was mixing a toast for Sawona, snorted and turned his head to look at the crow clock on the wall.

Does this seem to be progressing too fast?

Dale had only been out of the bar for ten minutes, and even if she had gone too far and had been accused of plagiarism by the owner, it would have taken a long time, had she already done it before?

He placed the wine in front of Sivona and asked for details.

Sivona took a sip of wine in a huff, the alcohol and anger made her face red, she slapped the bar, it seemed to be too hard, and immediately retracted her reddened little hand and blew twice, and then grinded her teeth and said:

"It's so disgusting, I confronted her with her new release, and she said it was just a parody. Except for the different names, the rest of the book is exactly the same as one I wrote fifty years ago."

Hearing the word imitation, Ringer chuckled in his heart, and felt more and more strange.

Layla, who was on the side, also opened her eyes wide, revealing a puzzled expression.

Only Elise thought of something, and glanced at Ringer, who was full of doubts, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but show a smile, but she immediately withdrew it. You idiot, think about it again.

"Did she say who taught her to do that?" Ringer didn't notice the change in Elise's expression, and his attention was all on Sawona in front of him.

"Yes," Severna suddenly came to her senses, "with her stupid brain, she has been writing for a hundred years and doesn't know how to change it, and her head is broken and she is still writing things that she thinks are interesting, how could she suddenly think of such a shameless method, someone must be instigating her behind her!"

Severna took a sip of her wine and slapped the bar with a menacing slap—

"Alas! Damn, that damn fellow dares to teach my sister badly, and I must find out the culprit."

Layla, who was sitting next to her, suddenly froze and cast a plea look at Ringer for help.

Ringer temporarily suppressed the doubts in his heart, coughed lightly, and asked:

"Didn't you Nightingale Press review the contents of the book before you Nightingale released what Dale wrote?"

"What she writes, the eldest sister never reads and publishes directly, because her level has always been very stable. It wasn't until it was unexpectedly sold after it was released that the eldest sister found the original manuscript she submitted and read it and found out that it was something I wrote 50 years ago."

"And then she recycled those?"

"Nope." Sivona became angry again, "The eldest sister said that fifty years ago, the book I wrote received a mediocre response when it was released, and it was not printed more later, so the circulation was only 100,000 copies of that year, and now the people who read that book have died a long time ago, and now it is reprinted as an old journal, and anyway, I can't use that pen name anymore, so it was released in the name of Dale, which is really annoying."

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204 There are always two days a month to read for free:,!

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