GL Eighteen-Line Novelist and Reader's Love Story

I don't like Heroes of Unrivaled World, the one I like is a novelist.In other people's own words: [-]th-line novelist.

At that time, I had just broken up the love of my ex who cheated again, and I had transformed myself from a "planetary person who would die if I didn't toss around" to a "house girl" who hid at home reading, watching dramas, and cooking in the kitchen.For four full months, I never took a step outside the house.

This person lives in a house, travel expenses naturally plummet, and the desire to buy and buy has almost reduced to zero.Social communication mainly relies on email and WeChat.Even makeup and sunscreen are saved.

In this way, with my tenacious will and the seventy or so miscellaneous books my predecessor was too lazy to move away, I managed to achieve a historic record of total monthly expenditure of $200...

One month... two months... Finally, even the bank consultant of American Express called worryingly. He first showed a few high-value offers, and then asked me if there was a dog outside... Oh, sorry, ask me Whether to invest in other banks.Spend $500 to get 2000MR...

I quickly converted the points into airline miles, gift cards, and discounts in my mind.Finally, I lazily said Sorry.

"May I ask what is your concern, Miss" The well-trained male voice on the other end of the phone obviously refused to give up.

Purely out of politeness, I smiled: "Well...It strikesmethatInolongerh□□eanexcessivedesireforearthlygood."

The call was hung up politely, and I collapsed on the lazy sofa again.The leaves of the green plants in the white flower pots next to them stood upright, as if they were greatly frightened.I think Mr. Sales Representative should be very confused at the moment, and even put me on the list of "wonderful customers". Sowhat, even if I lack respect for the basic principles of capitalist society, I have never been really friendly to me in love again and again.By the time the filming and the two are separated, everything in the past is almost as if it never happened.

In a daze, the former little man climbed back to the top of his thoughts.He yelled at me something.I watched him making noise quietly, my heart was full of exhaustion that I didn't want to resist.

The phone rings again inappropriately...

I weakly picked up the phone: "Hello"

"Hello? Are you okay?" I quickly recognized her voice. It was a mutual friend of my ex.

Resisting the urge to hang up, I casually catered a few words.

The other party also quickly turned to the topic "tactfully": "Then...you really don't plan to forgive him? Although...the split...the legs are indeed, indeed..."

Her voice hesitated too.

"Excuse me?" I asked very absent-mindedly, "Then wait until he splits a split for me, shall we? Oh, gymnasts make a lot of money, why don't he give it a try?"

"Hey...don't be so angry. He has really reflected on himself."

"Oh, really?" I asked with interest, taking a sip of the honey lemonade, "What did he tell you?"

The avatar on the phone felt some kind of hope, and the speed of speech was obviously accelerated: "Hey, he said that he never thought that losing you would be so uncomfortable, and he is very, very regretful now..."

I listened quietly to her every word.It's nothing more than how he is unshaven, drinking and crying... just imagining what he might look like is enough to make my stomach churn.

I had to interrupt her bitter description, "Thank you for telling me this." I said word by word: "But why do I not regret it at all?"

After hanging up the phone, I shook my head and started to make plans for today.It is said that the novel I was chasing before has been discontinued... How will I pass the time next.Aimlessly poking around on the Internet, I feel a little annoyed: Why can't these authors wait for the article to be finished before posting it in one breath?It's fun to play tricks, isn't it...

Just then, a line of words caught my distracted attention.

"I don't know what kind of person this person is. He is freehand and uninhibited. He often acts unexpectedly, so friends call him a lunatic. He likes light clothes, free food, poetry, and tearing paper. He is beautiful and curious. He is especially fond of reading without seeking deep understanding. .”

That's right, this is the first paragraph I read about eighteenth-line novelists.This author looks very interesting, I thought.

It was just such a piece of text that attracted me to spend an afternoon reading all the articles about her that I could search.

I remembered later that the layout of this passage came from Tao Yuanming.But being a novelist is really fun.The style of writing is extremely clear, and the brain circuit is also full of twists and turns.Occasionally, I also like to play a little deep.Maybe there are other writers in the world with a style similar to the novelist, but I have only met this one.

After a long day without incident, chasing her articles became my new expectation.Her combat locations are very scattered, with a hammer in the east and a stick in the west, and she will use different vests.I can only rely on a picture, a line of words, such clues to find it.Complicated is cumbersome, but I never get tired of it.

The cumbersome sustenance gradually replaced the day-to-day fighting with the former villain.I saved her columns one by one in the bookmarks bar of Chrome, and clicked to read them every morning.One day, she updated the following passage:

"I am more cautious and cherish my relationship than ever before. Because I gradually realized the reality: life is really not infinite, no matter how much I long for it in my heart.

Time is a single consumable—it is distributed fairly to everyone, and it cruelly requires you to choose: if you appear in one place, you cannot appear elsewhere at the same time.

You choose to pour your heart and emotion into a personality, the part that is consumed.Whether it is wasted or taken away, there will be no chance of recovering it.

I'm also a greedy person who wants everything and is always attracted to different people.

But I found that I might really not be able to indulge in wandering endlessly.Because among the dazzling array of eye-catching options, there is always one that I want the most.

Such as smart, such as you. "

Her words made me who have not shed tears for four months.Hugging Rilakkuma, crying alive became a wishing fountain.When I finally got tired of crying, I forced myself to eat half a tuna sandwich.The dry bread choked my throat.What kind of person is she and what has she been through?

For the first time, I started writing messages, long and short messages.I write in the morning, I write while I bake bread, I write during my walk, and I write during my supper break.She doesn't have a set style, and I don't have a set preference.But I feel unreasonably that there is some kind of tacit understanding between us.Although her article hits never exceed triple digits.Although she probably won't reply at all.I just want her to know that someone is reading her article.Maybe a little complacent?I think, I understand her.

But she replied.One month later, private message, in an extremely casual tone.

Almost uncontrollably, I covered my face and laughed.

She said: "My friend, it's a pity you think so.

She said: Let's get to know each other, I am an eighteenth-line novelist.

I remember the author of Crayon Shin-chan said: "If you think eggs are good, doesn't that mean you must know the mother?" I deeply agree with this truth.It's true that I'm full of curiosity about the novelist, but at the same time, I don't want to get too close to her world.

25 years of life experience tell me that the closer people are to each other, the less complete they are.I am content with a relationship hanging between a network cable, just being her number one reader.So we rarely talk about real things.

Most of the time, she will tell me about her latest brain hole, and write a story that can't be written halfway.I would complain that she was too impatient to write, and never explained to people well.The whole person seems to be living in heaven.

Probably talented people have arrogance.Every time I criticize her, she often has a dismissive tone.But I can always see many traces of changes in her next update.

I couldn't help picking up my phone again, and flipped through the chat history with her yesterday.

"I've always wanted to ask you, why do you write something?"

"I'm also curious, why do you ask such a question?"

"I just don't think you look like you want to be famous."

"Yes, yes, I'm the kind of writer who can't sell well, right?"

"Why are you making such complaints about yourself? It is against the Basic Law to steal someone else's lines."

After about 15 minutes, she replied with a long paragraph.

"If I have to say it, writing is a way for me to identify myself. Back in life, most of the time I prefer to listen to others. Not because I am a good listener, but because I don't want to be in the world at all. They put extra thoughts on them. The words and emotions they try to convey are extremely empty in my eyes. I don’t care about their worries and troubles. Even if I show devotion, most of them are out of out of courtesy or pity.

People always say I'm funny, but I think I'm a pretty boring person, but most people are more boring than me-they only want to hear what agrees with them, they only like people who are similar to themselves, or willing to agree with them .

Some people chatter because their minds are empty; some people talk loudly, but they want to accumulate their sense of authority through exaggeration; some people complain about themselves, just want to win sympathy and get more from you Some people are so angry that in the final analysis, they are forcing you to succumb to his ideas by exerting emotional pressure.

Some people long to be loved because they don't love themselves or others at all; some people hate others because that person reminds them of their extremely weak self at a certain moment.Some people can name a hundred reasons for their misfortune, but they never think about being responsible for their own lives.

When I find people like this everywhere in my life, I just have to hide and write. "

Gently moving my finger away from the touch screen, I cast my eyes out of the window. The rainy world is so clean, I fixedly stared at my silhouette filled with the reflection of the room from the transparent glass window.

I don't know what to reply, so I figured the best thing to do is not reply.But at the same time, it was me who suddenly wanted to meet her more than ever.