"You've been under a lot of pressure recently. If it doesn't work, I suggest you take a good rest for a while..."
inside the room.
On the brown leather sofa, the man pushed out the document in his hand and looked at the young man.
Qianye did not look at the document on the table immediately.
He was still looking around him with his head sideways, and the dazzling incandescent light shone on his fingers that were tapping the armrest of his wheelchair rhythmically.
After a while.
Only then did he turn his attention back to the contents of the document.
"How to write a good novel" is in bold words at the title of the document, and below it is a series of descriptions of various situations.
Qianye paused, picked up the document with his hand on the wheelchair, glanced at it with a calm expression, and just asked.
"So you think I'm crazy too?"
He raised his head and stared at Ziliang.
I ignored the latter's words.
"I just think you are under a lot of pressure and should take a rest." Ziliang did not take the document back. He looked at Qianye with a little regret in his eyes.
To be honest, Qianye is very talented in writing. Ever since Ziliang became Qianye's editor, this guy has always been able to give him a lot of unexpected ideas and all kinds of inspiration that breaks the rules.
Although Qianye has been in the industry for a long time, in the beginning, he made rapid progress from scratch, which impressed many of his peers, and they were full of praise for the various story frames he set up.
Similarly, Chino's novels also achieved great sales.
Rushing up all the way through thorns and thorns.
Successfully won the first place on the list that year, and still sat in that position for a long time.
But it's a pity that maybe it's because I kept imagining the plot and overusing my brain, or maybe it's because of what happened to Qianye in the past six months, or maybe it's because I've been bored at home alone for a long time.
There seems to be something wrong with this veteran author's brain...
He doesn't seem normal...
Not long ago.
He actually asked himself where his wife had gone?
At first, I thought it was Qianye's recent sudden inspiration, but Ziliang thought carefully about answering his question, intending to work on it and maybe write a good new book.
But as time goes by.
Ziliang realized that Qianye was serious.
Ask seriously.
Where is his wife...
Is this a joke?
In Ziliang's impression, Qianye has always lived alone. Ever since he first visited him a year ago, he has always lived alone.
Even though he had limited mobility and could only use a wheelchair, he didn't even hire a caregiver.
But Qianye has always believed that he has a wife who has lived with him for three years.
Naturally.
Ziliang couldn't help but feel that this former gold medal author had some problems in his mind, and even wanted to enlighten him.
Don't get bored sitting at home alone all the time.
"Let's take a rest for a month and put aside the issue of the new book for the time being..."
As Ziliang spoke, he took out a wad of money from his bag and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.
Since Qianye finished the last book, this new book can be said to be completely out of shape, and the writing is like a dog chewing.
Maybe it's luck, maybe it's status.
But as a veteran author, he has not published any new book in the true sense for three months after the completion.
And at the end of the book that established it as the number one book, it was in the slogan of my new book.
Thousands of fans are also leaving messages: "Oh, what a great book, but it's a pity that the author's later books are so bad that I can't read them."
"It would be great if I could write a sequel. What is the new one?"
"I have to say that Jiang Lang has exhausted his talent. He has put his mind on the front and can't write anything later..."
In this regard, Qianye could only remain silent.
He couldn't say that he had been busy looking for his missing wife for the past six months and had no energy to focus on the new book.
This is an irresponsible behavior. If you write whatever you need to deal with without being clear about your situation, it will naturally not be as good as the story you wrote with care before.
Ziliang kept the money and stood up to straighten his clothes: "The two thousand yuan is for the completed benefits applied for by the above."
Red banknotes are placed on the coffee table.
The money that was supposed to be his own, now seemed a bit dazzling in Qianye's field of vision.
It seems that after half a year, I have been dealing with my writing attitude carelessly, so I am not qualified to get this money.
"Let's adjust ourselves before going on."
Ziliang added, patted Qianye on the shoulder with some pity and left.
In a small house.
The brown sofa still retains the warmth of Ziliang's departure...
Qianye was left alone in the wheelchair, looking at the money on the table and saying nothing for a long time.
After a while, Qianye sighed heavily, leaned his head on the backrest of the wheelchair, and looked at his somewhat lonely and quiet home: "Haha, I feel like I have a brain disease..."
He was a little tired.
Tired of being terrible at your job.
Somewhat puzzled.
He was puzzled by the fact that his wife, whom he had lived with for three years but disappeared half a year ago, was having an affair.
she.
It seems to have really disappeared.
At least now Qianye knows that no one can remember Yuma...
The wife who exists in his memory seems like a dream.
"Does she really not exist?"
"I clearly remember that she is my wife..."
"There are still traces of the two of us living in the house."
"But they all thought I was crazy."
"Everyone thinks I'm crazy..."
Qianye retracted his dull gaze and slowly brought his thoughts back. He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was nine o'clock in the evening, which was the time when he should write every day.
Silently pushing the wheelchair to the computer desktop in the bedroom.
Start the computer skillfully, click on the document, and view the table of contents.
Looking at the blank document on the computer screen, Qianye's fingers were trying to type something on the keyboard, but they stayed there for a moment and then retracted.
He didn't know what to write.
I have a room... a wife...
The memories that should have existed for everyone seemed to have been erased overnight.
When Qianye came to this city three years ago, she got acquainted with Yuma, and eventually fell in love with her and got married.
But just half a year ago, Youjian seemed to have disappeared from the world and could not be found.
Qianye asked his friends, parents, and even editor Ziliang.
But everyone was asking him questions.
"Is there a chance? Where did this person come from? Are you obsessed with writing novels?"
"Your wife? Aren't you always a bachelor?"
"Huh? Why haven't I heard you mention that you have a wife before?"
"Is this a recent inspiration? It's not bad."
"Oh shit! It turns out you don't live alone. I always thought you were single."
"No, I've been to your house many times and never seen your wife."
"..."
After many inquiries, Chino came to a conclusion.
His wife really disappeared.
Disappeared from this world and from everyone's memory.
"Is it possible that you are really confused?"
“Or maybe you’re suffering from mental illness due to too much stress?!”
Chino had to have self-doubt.
But there's something ridiculous about that.
It was clear that in the first half of the year, Qianye still remembered celebrating his birthday with her friends. The cake stains on the black sweater on the bedside that couldn't be washed were left by her.
There are also two toothbrushes and toiletries for two people in the toilet.
There is room for clothes hanging in the closet.
There are also her cosmetics on the cabinet next to the TV.
The whole house is full of scenes where the two people lived.
What a good person,
But he disappeared so strangely...
While Qianye's thoughts were wandering, the mouse in his hand was clicking aimlessly on the screen.
He seemed to want to see something, but couldn't find anything to see.
Nothing happens.
He clicked into his draft box.
There are two chapters in the draft box that have not yet been uploaded...
Qianye read these two chapters of the novel and calmed down, with a strange expression on his face: "Why are you still here?"
This morning, Qianye discovered that there were two extra chapters of the novel inexplicably in the draft box of his account.
That's not what he wrote.
He is the only one who knows the account password, except that it is something that others left in it.
Qianye clicked through the two chapters of the novel.
The story inside is very ordinary, just a weird and scary story about a train.
Old fashioned approach, poor narration.
After reading it twice, he still couldn't find anything interesting.
At that time, I thought that I accidentally copied and pasted it into my draft box when I was reading a novel written by another author.
So he deleted it casually.
but now.
Those two chapters appear again.
Just lying quietly in his draft box.
"A novel that cannot be deleted?"
"Is there a system bug..."
He frowned slightly.
Qianye didn't think too much, but impatiently clicked in and read it again. The content was exactly the same as before, nothing had changed.
So he moved the mouse to the deleted location.
I want to get this thing out of my draft box, lest one day I accidentally send it as my own chapter.
only.
Just when Qianye was about to click delete, his movements suddenly stopped...
Ta-ta-ta!
It's the sound of a computer keyboard being tapped.
Under Qianye's gaze, his computer started typing strangely automatically. In the document, a small string of words was typed out quickly...
"I have a room."
"help me!"
