This treasure trove is a treasure trove of creative materials. When he realized this, Zhang Jiaze was excited for almost the whole afternoon.

He originally thought that if he dropped the computer, he would forget to write; If he burns the manuscript, he can forget to write, but in fact, he finds that he can't forget writing anyway.

Writing is in his blood.

As long as he was alive, he would keep writing.

It's like an addict who can't quit.

Knowing this, Zhang Jiaze's whole person suddenly seemed to be a different person.

The greatest pain in life is not life or death, but that there is no longer the courage to live.

Understanding this, Zhang Jiaze took advantage of his free time to go to a nearby supermarket, found a place to sell stationery, and selected two of the cheapest pens and a small thick notebook for himself.

If you can't afford a computer and can't afford it, use the cheapest and most primitive way of writing.

Although it has been a long time since he started to create, Zhang Jiaze is not in a hurry to create, he deeply understands that now is the stage where he accumulates materials.

Every day, he carries a notebook in his pocket, recording all kinds of stories and conversations he hears, and all kinds of inspirations that come to mind.

Although it is called Dunzi, in fact, he needs to do things such as serving and delivering food, wiping the table and washing dishes.

Once, two customers ordered a few dishes, Zhang Jiaze casually handed the list recorded by the customer to the chef, and after a while, the chef walked out with a piece of paper in his hand, found Zhang Jiaze, frowned, and asked puzzledly:

"What the hell is this Nima written? Do you give Lao Tzu a thought - a coquettish female customer and a balding man? You read it to Lao Tzu, what did this Nima write? And the female customer's skirt was so short, they came in a car, and the bald man was still talking about the car shock...... You wrote novels all your life, right? ”

Zhang Jiaze was shocked, hurriedly ran over, snatched the paper from the chef's hand, and said eagerly:

"My grandfather, be quiet, be quiet—"

Zhang Jiaze secretly glanced at the customer and found that the customer was not unusual, so he was relieved.

It turned out that his record was too "crazy", and he mistakenly took the list of customers' speeches recorded by Gu himself as the customer's order list, and handed it to the chef, no wonder the chef looked confused after taking it and reading it.

In the afternoon, when there were no customers, Zhang Jiaze would sit in the small restaurant and write in his notebook; At night, lying in bed, everyone else entered into dreams, and he still opened his eyes in the dark and conceived his own works. As soon as inspiration came, he touched his phone, typed quickly on it, and saved it.

- Since entering the small restaurant, he has taken out his mobile phone card and thrown it away, he doesn't want others to disturb him.

In five months, he has recorded 25 thick diaries and completed 40 signature pens.

Writing gives him peace of mind.

Since then, he no longer cares about what others say about him, no longer cares about whether he has a home, no longer cares about his clothes and appearance, and no longer cares about other people's year-round seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter.

He has entered the realm of self-forgetfulness, immersed in his own story and unable to extricate himself.

He eats, drinks, cries, and laughs with the protagonist, and he is no longer alone, because there is a large group of characters in the novel who come alive around him.

Despite the tiredness of every day, despite the poverty of every day, and despite the hardship of every day, he lived happily.

It is a kind of happiness that has nothing to do with substance.

It's a joy that comes from the bottom of your heart.

In this most primitive way, he wrote more than 100,000 words in more than 5 months, and he had a steady desire to write down, a desire that could not be satisfied.

In the more than 5 months he has been working in a small restaurant, he has forgotten about the outside world and completely turned himself into a waiter in a small restaurant.

He no longer cares about success or failure, he just writes according to his heart.

Until one day, he suddenly woke up from the torrent of time: his second child was born!

Counting on the fingers, the second child should have been born for more than a month.

After working in the small restaurant for more than 5 months, he finally decided to get out of the small restaurant.