The sad truth is that he couldn't even write a single word.

He opened the computer's writing document over and over again, wrote down the beginning over and over again, and then deleted the openings, like a schoolboy, not knowing how to start.

He would stand up and look through the books on the bookcase, sit down and scratch his ears and cheeks, and keep picking his scalp with his hands, but he still couldn't write; He got up again and walked around the garden downstairs to enjoy the view, and as he walked around contemplating what he had written, he had all kinds of storylines in mind, but when he returned to the large and luxurious house and sat down at his desk, he found that he still couldn't write.

Sometimes, it takes half a day to write a few hundred words.

At two or three o'clock in the afternoon, the new text had not yet been written, but it was time for Zhang Yinuo to leave school. So, he had to go to the kindergarten to pick up Zhang Yinuo.

On the way home from school, Zhang Yinuo pestered him as usual to tell him stories about reporters. Don't look at Zhang Yinuo's youth, but she remembers the storyline she told in the morning clearly.

On the way home from school, Zhang Yinuo took Zhang Jiaze's hand, with a childish child's voice, and asked:

"Dad, what happened to the fat man?"

Zhang Jiaze was stunned for a moment, and asked casually:

"Fatty? What fatty? ”

Zhang Yinuo shook Zhang Jiaze's hand:

"That's you...... Colleagues! That fat man, you say he's still a fool! How the hell is he stupid? Tell me about it! ”

Zhang Jiaze came back to his senses, so he continued to make up these stories that had never happened in the first place.

Sometimes, I really can't talk about it, so Zhang Jiaze said:

"Ah...... Ah......h Dad couldn't tell. ”

Zhang Yinuo was very dissatisfied:

"Then you make it up! You're a writer! ”

Zhang Jiaze was speechless when asked, so he had to rack his brains to make it up.

In the evening, the nanny made a table full of dishes, and everyone gathered around the table and ate happily. Although the two children sometimes have some contradictions or disharmony, the fact that the family can have a happy meal together is already a luxury in the modern city.

Originally, Song Bonian rarely ate at home, but now, with the arrival of his daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren, he can push and push for outside entertainment.

Song Bonian went to the countryside when he was young, worked as an intellectual youth, endured a lot of hardships, and knew the importance of reunion for a family, and he was also immersed in the happiness of this reunion.

It's just that Zhang Jiaze's problems are getting deeper and deeper day by day. It stands to reason that the conditions in all aspects are much better than before, and he should also press down and write quietly.

But it's so strange, the material conditions are good, but I can't create works. Perhaps Mr. Lu Xun said it well, life is too comfortable, but it is not conducive to human progress.

But is life good if you have to live in embarrassment all the time? Do those who engage in literary and artistic creation deserve to live in poverty?

Zhang Jiaze knows that all this comes from his own heart.

If you don't have peace of mind, you won't be able to create excellent works no matter what kind of environment you are in.

Inner peace is especially important for a writer.

He decided to find his spiritual mentor -