The call was connected.
"Hey, Qingluo, aunt asked me why you haven't come home yet."
"Didn't I say, I'm running."
Ning Chunyan glanced at the time.
“Running? It’s so late now, and you’re still running? It’s very unsafe. Why don’t you let me come with you?”
“You’re stupid Ah, running is such a personal thing, how can you just show it to others? ”
“Didn’t you watch “Chungking Express”? ”
"What "Chungking Express"?"
"...It's nothing, please pay attention to your knees."
"No Please pay attention, we have finished running."
Chen Qingluo was sitting on the steps next to the playground, wearing only a short T-shirt, completely soaked with sweat, and her whole body was sticky. If she put her hand upright into the mountain range on her chest and pulled it out, she would definitely get a pool of water.
She said into the phone: "Quick, I want to go to your house."
Ning Chunyan said: "Why are you coming to my house?"
"Your home is relatively close." Chen Qingluo said, "I have been working on an idea just now, and now I have the beginning of a 20,000-word novel in my mind. I have to write them down quickly so as not to forget them. Quick, quick, quick, I'm going to you Home, do you agree? "
"Huh? You want to go slower, I can't keep up..."
"Hurry up, If you say a few words less, the writing and thinking brain area and the language function brain area are the same part. If you say a few more words, the novel I just conceived will fly away."
"Okay, okay, live your life. Come on. I'll pick you up."
Ning Chunyan went downstairs in her bear pajamas. Chen Qingluo came over with a murderous look. She didn't dare to ask or say anything, so she took her upstairs.
Like a bandit, Chen Qingluo rushed into Ning Chunyan's room and locked the door. She pulled away the stool and sat down in front of her computer. She threw Wang Zixu's manuscript on the ground and cleared the table. She took off her sweat-stained top and threw it onto Wang Zixu's manuscript, revealing her high bulging white bra and slender waist. She put her hands on Ning Chunyan's keyboard.
Ning Chunyan was shocked and angry but dared not speak. He lay on the bed and watched her creation.
Chen Qingluo’s hand speed is fast and smooth, which has gone beyond the scope of typing. It is simply pouring the words and sentences in her mind into the computer. Her fingers are so fast that afterimages appear, and the cursor on the screen keeps moving without stopping.
Although you can’t see what she wrote, her dedicated demeanor and crazy input speed can make people feel the pressure coming from behind.
For writers, creation is also a very personal matter and cannot be shown to others casually. Seeing the madness of the creator behind the words, it is difficult to maintain a normal mind while reading.
But Chen Qingluo still did it as if no one else was around. She couldn't control anything anymore. Behind her madness, Ning Chunyan seemed to see a soul crying silently.
It may also be her illusion.
Ning Chunyan couldn't help but sigh: "Madam! Madam!"
Chen Qingluo ignored her at all.
She knew that she had completely entered the flow state, and now she would not feel even an earthquake. The last time I saw someone typing so immersedly was Wang Zixu who was revising a manuscript in Mei Rucheng's office.
Chen Qingluo’s monotonous input voice became the best hypnotic tool, and Ning Chunyan fell asleep unknowingly.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky outside the window was slightly brighter. Chen Qingluo was staring at the computer screen intently, rubbing her fingers, and the short-sleeved top was back on her body.
Ning Chunyan rubbed her sleepy eyes: "Have you finished writing?"
"It's not finished yet." Chen Qingluo said, "It's a beginning."
"How many words?"
She leaned over from behind Chen Qingluo and was shocked when she saw the number of words in the lower right corner - more than fifteen thousand words.
“You wrote this all in one night?” Ning Chunyan was mostly awake.
Chen Qingluo nodded: "Look at it for me, I will squint for a while."
Ning Chunyan said: "I haven't brushed my teeth yet."
“Is it more important to brush my teeth or my novel?”
“Brushing my teeth is more important. Because teeth grow in my own mouth.”
After brushing her teeth at the Ning Chun Banquet, Chen Qingluo lay on her bed in an imageless manner, with her eyes closed tightly and not knowing what was going on, as if she was in a coma.
She sat down in front of the computer, slid the mouse wheel, turned to the beginning of the story, and slowly read down.
Then she sank in.
When she saw the place where the story stopped, she gasped for air as if she was rising from the water.
What is this? Is this a novel? Was this written by Chen Qingluo?
Who practices Tai Chi? Who made the lion roar?
When did Chen Qingluo have such power?
She jumped on the bed and shook Chen Qingluo vigorously, but Chen Qingluo still didn't know who was going on. She patted her little face, and then she woke up slowly and stared at her with confused eyes.
“How long do you plan to write this?”
“200,000 words.” Chen Qingluo said.
Ning Chunyan said excitedly: "Then I think this year's Mao Dun Literature Award has been booked in advance! How did you make a breakthrough? If you keep writing like this, you are not a talented woman, you are a literary giant. Home! Finish it now! Write fifteen thousand a day and publish it next month. Then come and be my editor-in-chief and I’ll wait for our magazine to skyrocket!" Before she even finished speaking, Chen Qingluo fell asleep again.
She crawled back to the table, helped Chen Qingluo adjust the format, clicked print, clamped the manuscript paper with a paper clip, and rushed out of the room waving:
"Dad! Come and take a look! The beginning of Qingluo's new work!"
Ning Bingru had just gotten up and was staring at the unfamiliar women's shoes at the door in a daze, and then her daughter stuffed the manuscript paper into her arms.
"Qingluo is here? When did it come?"
"Stop asking, look!" Ning Chunyan panted, "After watching me Let’s talk again!”
Ning Bingru returned to her room, found her reading glasses and put them on. After reading, she raised her head and asked, “How many words does she plan to write?”
"200,000."
Ning Bingru said: "Then this year's Mao Dun Literature Award has been won."
"Really? I think so too."
The door to the house was pushed open, and her mother came in with vegetables. While changing her shoes, she said: "Qingluo is Aren’t you here? I saw her shoes yesterday and saw that your door was closed, so I didn’t dare to disturb her.” Ning Bingru took the manuscript and said to his wife, “Come and see Qing Luo’s new work.”
Mother stared at the manuscript and said, “Wait a minute, Qing Luo, I’ll wash my hands.”
After drying her hands, she sat down on the sofa, took the manuscript and started reading. After reading, she looked up and asked: "Is this a short story or a long story?"
"For a long story, she said she planned to write 200,000 words."
Her mother said: "That's not to rush to win this year's novel. Did you win the Mao Dun Literature Award? "Qingluo, this kid has made great progress!"
Chen Qingluo turned over on the bed, her closed eyelids trembled slightly, her lips were murmuring, and she didn't know what she was dreaming about; her blue hair was stuck to her face, and her short-sleeved top was turned up during her sleep, revealing a piece of her snow-white waist, showing her enchanting beauty.
…
The next day Wang Zixu didn’t go to work again. Once a person breaks through his own bottom line, there is no end to the slippery slope.
Now he is like a bully in his unit. Even if he misses for a day or two, no one will dare to say anything.
He hummed a song, packed up the fruits at home, and prepared to go to his father's house. Before going, he planned to use the royalties to buy some cigarettes and alcohol as a filial piety to his father.