"Writers?" Ringer glanced at the young man in a slightly surprised light.

"Hmm." The young man hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the hesitation on his face swept away, and he became firm, "I am a, a writer!" ”

"That's pretty good." Ringer smiled, his voice as kind as a cup of hot water, "Is it convenient to reveal the direction of writing, poetry?" Prose? Or is it a novel? ”

"Ahem, novel." The young man touched his nose and said.

“

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