One is "Yes, the beginning of the text is more concise, there is no redundancy, and the writing skills are not bad." The other is "the story is slightly delayed, and the protagonist's character is not clear."

The little author sucked and sucked the noodles, went back and looked at his updates, and found this comment really good.

It is not simply an abstract concept such as "cool" or "unhappy", but it really points out the problems in his writing.

He wrote a three-line reply very sincerely, thanks for his guidance.

The readers who gave comments seemed to be online, and replied, "Go to bed. I'll watch it later."

The little writer went to sleep with gratitude.

As soon as he woke up, the comment area was torn up.

There are a few boring fixed sprays. It may be that the author's personality is good. He is always gentle and not angry. Like the protagonist of the soft dough in the book, he always loves to wear a vest to stab him. .

Today, one of them realized that when they came to the comment area to complete the routine task, they saw a seriously read text and gave a lot of positive IDs, and immediately surrounded them: "Oh, this is a family and friends group, buy it Comments. "

The reader replied: "Can't sleep, come and look at the text."

The sprayer said, "Dude, there's nothing to look at, let's go. You said so much, and the author won't change it. The change is also a blind change."

The reader said, "I like the story, he wrote it well."

The spray was sour: "Hey, it really is a group of friends and relatives."

The reader said, "Objectively, it is better than you."

The sprayer hit a spirit, and was angry and mad: "What is the nonsense you say with your eyes open? Which of your eyes saw me writing ?!"

The reader is quite organized: "You trumpet has only thundered for one article. Your trumpet is consistent with the IP address of that article. That article is the same period as this article. I encourage you to write carefully, otherwise There will be no list. "

Sprayer didn't care: "You TM thought you were an editor, and you came here. I also said that you were the author's trumpet."

There will be no reply below.

The little writer looked a little angry, and just wanted to go up and say a few words to the enthusiastic reader. Editing the rude smoker's headshot flashed in his friend bar.

The editor said, "Don't listen to them."

The editor also said: "It's my fault and I shouldn't give you previous suggestions. According to your ideas, change to a website with a better atmosphere and improve the details, and your results will be better."

The little writer was in front of the computer.

Later, after careful consideration, he abandoned this article that had been seriously deviated and transferred to another website.

When he called his pseudonym, he thought of the smoke in the mouth of the rough man, and knocked on a "light cigarette".

Later, he wrote a god, and the next two books also scored well.

With money in his hand, he knocked on the editor.

Since two people have been identified as relatives and friends by air, they have often chatted together and learned many things about each other, but they have really become a half of friends and relatives.

For example, if two people are in the same city, they both like to eat supper, and they are both night owls.

The little writer's message always returned in seconds: "how?"

The author said, "Are you free, please eat meat."

About the meeting, the little writer recorded it in detail in his diary.

The man is not rude at all. He is only a few months older than the young author. He is very handsome, wears a pair of black-rimmed glasses, often writes prose in magazines, and has money at home, so he can do what he wants .

A year before I knew the author, he was still selling insurance.

Now that he has just obtained his kindergarten certificate, he is about to quit his editing job and go to kindergarten to be a kindergarten teacher.

The little writer was very envious of him, and said, okay.

He is polio and has been in a wheelchair shortly after birth. These years he has been able to travel independently, only his own kitchen, computer and bedroom.

He yearns for the vast world that the editor can see.

The editor looked at his wheelchair and said, "You live alone now?"

Young writer: "ah."

His father died early and his mother remarried and went abroad.

The editor said: "It is a coincidence. My community has newly installed disabled access, which is available in every building."

The little author's eyes were bright: "Well, that's good."

The editor looked into his eyes: "Moving over."

Young writer: "...... ah?"

The editor said: "I have a very nice shop near my house that sells plum cakes."

The little writer looked at him stunned, and his heartbeat accelerated, but he could not understand the meaning of his words.

The editor said: "You moved here and I can buy it for you every day."

In the diary of the author, there is a food diary, which is specifically about plum cakes, and I can see that the appetite of Pond Koike is strong at night.

So he bought it the next day.

He arrived at the shop described in the little writer's gourmet diary.

The boss skillfully poured the prepared glutinous rice flour into a special vessel, and then poured semi-fluid hot bean paste, hot sesame, and hot purple potatoes that had been cooked in it.

Chi Xiaochi started, waiting in the cold wind.

After a while, a young man with black-rimmed glasses stopped the car at the door of the shop: "Madam, come two, old style."

This is obviously a regular customer. The boss lady answered twice, and took out the two red bean paste from the oven, took it in a paper bag, and handed it to him.

The young man quickly got back into the car, and there was a man in the co-pilot, leaned over and took the paper bag.

Chi Xiaochi heard the young man say, "The stuffing is hot, so let's start with it. It's just delicious when we go home."

Chi Xiaochi turned his head and looked at the ridiculous car, thinking, would it be them?

Maybe, maybe not.

He remembered that I watched the online audio of the young author yesterday on the Internet. In the free interview session, some readers also asked about the story of "Xianren Xianjun".

The reader asks: "It's so light, don't you really want to write that" Immortal King "?"

The author's voice was very gentle: "Well, don't write it to others. I will leave it on the hard disk and rewrite it .... write to him."

The reader was a bit sorry: "Will that Tatar and Snake King have a good ending."

"They will," said the little author. "They are independent souls. Even without me, they will have a good ending."

Chi Xiaochi was thinking, suddenly, a slight vibration came from his coat pocket.

Chi Xiaochi picked up the mobile phone, looked at the number above for a while, and brought it to his ear.

Lou Ying's voice over there: "Hello?"

Chi Xiao Chi is happy.

He remembers saying to himself when he was still 061 that in a non-mission environment, he would be blocked from all functions when he reached a certain world, retaining only the most basic sensory abilities and not even speaking.

So Lou Ying, who was left at home, could only call him if he wanted to find him.

Lou Ying asked him, "Is it cold?"

Lou Ying wasn't in front of her, but Chi Xiaochi was not so tense: "You're not here, my sweet little Qiuku is gone."

Lou Ying laughed.

He asked, "When will you be back? Let me check the time. The dumplings are almost out of the pot."

Chi Xiaochi hid his microphone and asked the boss, "How much longer?"

The boss laughed: "It's coming, it's going to be six or seven minutes. The purple potato filling is cooked slowly."

Chi Xiaochi said to the other side of the phone: "Let's go down. I'll hang up before I say anything. I didn't look carefully before I came out. My phone is almost out of gas."

Lou Ying could not help but said: "Well, good."

Chi Xiaochi bought a stove and a half, intending to go back and let Lou Ying distribute to those systems.

He picked out a plum cake filled with purple sweet potatoes, and took a bite.

The outer layer of the egg rolls is crispy and golden, which is the favorite of Chi Xiaochi. The soft and waxy plum-shaped rice noodles are bitten open, and there is a slight overflow of the liquid purple potatoes that boil into juice. , Hot white gas rushed straight to Chi Koike's face.

He took two bites hot, and suddenly wanted to go home.

So he called Lou Ying's name in his heart: "Lou Brother, Lou Brother."

The owner of the plum cake was angry, and when preparing the next furnace of plum cake, he inadvertently looked up and found that the customer who had just lifted away a half of the plum cake just disappeared in just half a minute.

After hanging up the phone with Chi Xiaochi, Lou Ying said to 089 and 023: "I'll go back first and give Xiaochi dumplings."

He originally wanted to talk to 089, but unfortunately 023 was also there, and some words were not convenient to say.

089 said with affection: "Go, beloved. Your happiness is the greatest expectation of your parents."

023 rolled his eyes coldly.

089 innocent said: "I'm sincere."

Lou Ying stroked a peace knot in his jacket pocket: "Well, I know."

089 Seeing his movements, his expression remained unchanged, and his eyes were slightly curved.

Well, knowing the usefulness of Ping An, Bacheng has used it.

Since we are using it, we must have encountered some danger.

Looking at his current appearance, he must have transitioned peacefully, and he may have encountered some good things.

It's just that he is so happy, but he may not be happy anymore.

A few moments later, 089 had some conjectures. The words turned around, and the tears were filled with tears of truth: "61, you can protect our daughter-in-law, you are our nine-generation single-passer, and our old family's incense continues. But it's all on him. "

023: "..." What is Old 0?

Lou Ying moved slightly, knowing what he was reminding himself: "Well, I remember, father."

023: "..."

He felt that he was often out of touch with them because he was not playful enough.