The bleak autumn wind is now again, and the world has changed. When I was young and ignorant, I liked to chase stars, singers, movie stars, and everything that I thought was fashionable or fashionable at that age. I also stupidly wrote down my favorite lyrics neatly in a carefully selected notebook. Of course, you must also paste a few beautiful photos of your favorite handsome men and women at that time. A few years later, I accidentally cleaned up the house, picked up the dusty notebook, and opened it only to find it ridiculous. Stumbling and hurrying up - starting work, starting endless days of overtime and calculating paychecks. One day, walking on the bustling street waiting for a red light, I looked at the children with schoolbags passing by in front of me, and suddenly realized that I was old. The sun at this moment is even a little dazzling, and I haven't had time to feel sad about the quiet arrival of autumn, and the fierce north wind wrapped in winter has come. It's like I haven't had time to lament that my dreams haven't been remembered for a long time, and that my youth is running out. It's been three years since I wrote the book, spring has gone and autumn has come, many people have come and gone in my life, he got married, she divorced, he opened a new company, he is changing jobs again. Whenever I hear people say that they are going to get married, I always smile and ask each other if they really want to spend their lives with their other half, but their answers are almost all helpless smiles. When aiqing and marriage have become a program, at some point, this program has to be up and running, if you don't have it, it's a problem with your machine. Look, am I getting old? The single chapter I opened today was originally intended to pull a monthly pass, but I floated away as I spoke. Okay, so let me talk about the book, huh. Actually, a lot of people tell me that you should write this and that, and write about what the public likes. They're anxious for me, I know. It's just that they don't know, I just want to write what I like to write. If what I write is not what I like, what I want to write, then I will only be left alive. Regarding the question of readers' liking haode, I think it's like some people don't like to eat braised pork, some people don't like milk, of course, there are things that they don't like, there will be things they like, such as garlic, some people scoff at it, some people love it, it's like reading a book, some people praise it, some people scold, they all disturb, and everyone is in a variety of ways. After all, no matter how good the writing is, we must first solve the problem of food and clothing before we can write poems, right? This is my dream, and I have exhausted a lot of things and missed a lot on the path of pursuing my dreams. However, I can still write, and this is the only thing, and I am happy. How many late nights, the whole city was sleeping peacefully, I was in front of the computer desk to deliberate word by word, write and delete, delete and write. As long as I have breath, I'm going to write it down. That's all there is to it. I'll still write it silently.,What's that.,If you like it.,Please vote for a precious monthly pass.。 Thank you!zuihou, thank you to everyone who has been with me so far, and especially to those who plan to continue with me on this journey.

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The latest chapter of high-speed debut of Lust of Guilt.,This chapter is the beginning of the month.,Ask for a guaranteed monthly pass.。 If you think this chapter is not bad, please don't forget to recommend it to your friends in the QQ group and Weibo!