Chapter 119: Non-Fiction Literature

Thinking that he had finished proving his identity, Zhong Jiuyin poked Ai Yuanyuan again.

"What about you? Hurry up and prove that you are a writer, the person who has the invitation is superior, and I will coerce you after coercing. ”

Ai Yuanyuan was distressed: "How can a writer prove himself? I can't write a book for you on the spot, can I? ”

People who can be called writers usually bring their own books when they introduce themselves, a certain book has been published, and a certain book has been selected for teaching materials...

However, the personal script did not provide her with a certificate of falsification in this regard.

"I can't prove myself," Ai Yuanyuan said, "and there is no need to prove myself, I am a writer, and I am genuine." ”

Yuan Yi: "We don't believe it. Why can't a writer rely on his social influence and status to get a simple prom invitation? ”

Ai Yuanyuan: "I still don't believe that you are a musician, Liang Zhi is a dancer, and Brother Yan Cheng is a chef, do you also want to write a song on the spot to testify yourself?" Or let Brother Yan Cheng immediately cook a five-star hotel chef's specialty dish? ”

Liang Zhi said weakly: "If the identity is not fake, it is... You are third-rate painters and third-rate writers, your status is very low, and the organizers don't look down on you at all? ”

"What are you talking about," Zhong Jiuyin raised his eyebrows coldly, "Who is a third-rate painter?" You're a fifth-rate dancer! ”

Liang Zhi was sprayed and hid back.

At this time, the broadcast pops up a prompt.

"Drip-"

"Trigger the key plot."

The narrator's voice came out again, and suddenly it was raised, startling everyone.

"'Who are you to judge whether I am a third-rate painter!' The painter resembles a cat with its tail stepped on, and his voice shouts sharply at the proud dancer. ”

The dancer looked at him with disdain, which was completely different from the messenger of justice who had reached out to help him before, and it was obvious that as a well-known dancer, he looked down on those liars who said big things to package themselves.

The dancer sneered a few more words, and before the musician had time to play the round, the writer, who was bowing his head and not making a sound, suddenly said something that made the faces of the three men change, and she said......"

It's Ai Yuanyuan's plot again.

"It's kind of hard." She said with her eyebrows twisted, her expression slightly agitated as she thought.

It's not easy to have a time limit, and you want to get as high a score as possible, and the content is not too indicative.

Everyone helped to think, Zhong Jiuyin was also thinking hard, and his hand unconsciously touched the scar on his wrist.

Those healed wounds have new tissue, slightly more protruding than normal skin, and have a presence to the touch.

But in the quiet environment, touching and thinking, a wisp of thought ran out of the fence of the brain like a cow yearning for the sky, and wandered to think of something else.

For example, the wrong kiss with Yan Cheng in the utility room.

The original owner doesn't seem to have had the experience of kissing someone, so does this defile the original owner's clean body and her own clean soul?

Yan Cheng's lips are soft... Of course, that's not the point.

She wondered if the kiss would cause some ripple effects.

In "The Stunning Killer Obediently Makes My Father Love", the hero and heroine had some other thoughts because of an accidental mouth touch, and gradually changed from opposing parties who were wary of each other to a loving couple who wanted to get each other.

… Wait, so it's not a made-up bedside book for a long time, it's documentary literature?!

The stunning killer accidentally crossed the other world, wanted to retire, met a beautiful man, and accidentally kissed... One by one, like her pirated life.

Then will the pure life-saving relationship between her and Yan Cheng slowly deteriorate?

The wild cows in his brain were still running wildly, and Yan Cheng's clear and beautiful voice came from the side.

"What about you? What do you think? ”

He didn't have a name, but he tilted his body and looked at her, and he was really asking her opinion.

Zhong Jiuyin came back to his senses for a second and said, "It's just irony, it's just a few words that can make a man change his face." ”

The body is not good, the brain is not good, the identity and status are not good, the appearance is not good, and so on.

Yan Cheng didn't know what she was saying, and after listening to it, he said to Ai Yuanyuan: "Then what we all think so is to ridicule the identities of the three people." However, the writer's personality will bring constraints to this performance, so you need to pay more attention. ”

Ai Yuanyuan smiled sweetly and nodded, rehearsing it in her heart, mobilizing her emotions to match her tone.

Zhong Jiuyin stared, his fingertips still rubbing his wrists.

Originally standing next to her were Yuan Yi and Liang Zhi, who had disrupted their positions when they were painting just now, and now it was Yan Cheng standing on her left hand.

When Ai Yuanyuan said the lines, Yan Cheng suddenly asked in a low voice, "Wrist pain?" ”

was very soft, and he also casually blocked the microphone of the radio equipment, everyone's attention was on Ai Yuanyuan, and no one noticed his subtle movements.

Zhong Jiuyin looked at him, continued to stare at Ai Yuanyuan, and replied, "No." ”

The curvature of her lips was small, and she lowered her voice.

"Then why do you keep scratching?" Yan Cheng asked again.

"Just touch it." She said casually.

They all looked ahead, and apart from a simple verbal remark to each other, there was no suspicious thing else in whispering.

Yan Cheng didn't speak, and when Ai Yuanyuan's lines were judged on the radio, and the amplified voice covered up other noisy sounds, he said again: "Don't bear the pain." ”

Zhong Jiuyin stopped rubbing, but her palm was still on it, her lips moved slightly, and she asked, "Why don't you bear it?" Stabbing you twice to divert attention? ”

“…… You can get away from the camera for a while, and let the specially invited doctors of the program team give you relief. ”

"Oh, no," she said nonchalantly, "thanks for your concern." ”

Ai Yuanyuan received 70% of the reward for the plot, Yuan Yi and Liang Zhi both applauded, and Yan Cheng also raised his hand to shoot two or three times in response to the situation.

Then he said calmly: "The program team is not an unreasonable Party A, for the normal progress of the show, they will be more concerned about any problems you have in the game." ”

She was noncommittal, and her tone was more lazy: "Yes." ”

Nothing else, just those two words.

It seemed impatient to continue with him, perhaps asking him meaningfully about this inexplicable concern.

Yan Cheng's clapping movements froze, but he still didn't turn his head to look at her.

Both of them fell silent, and the atmosphere was eerie.

Under their feet is a murder scene sprinkled with "blood", Ai Yuanyuan and they are all talking happily, and the cameras are aimed at layer by layer, which is really not a good environment.

But the human brain seems to automatically add frosted glass to the environment to isolate the sound image, so that they can only focus on their own surroundings, as if...

It was as if the brief silence had brought them into a car, and the sound of the rainstorm and traffic was all cut off, and only there was some kind of delicate relationship between the two of them.

They didn't look at each other, they only imagined that maybe the drooping arms were already very close, otherwise why could they feel the temperature of each other's proximity?

Yan Cheng even wondered, at such a distance, would the clothes have already touched her? If you move your fingers a little, will you touch her hand? Then it's better for him not to move, the camera is captured, and being taken as a malicious screenshot will cause unnecessary trouble.

"Brother Yan Cheng?" Ai Yuanyuan called him.

"Huh?" He looked up at the past, his expression calm.

Quack, quack, quack, quack

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(End of chapter)