Chapter 068 A Kind Smile
"Master Wu Wu Wu Chang, where is this?"
Yang Siming asked cautiously.
He slumped his shoulders and shivered.
This place is so eerie and chilly, as if the air conditioner is on in winter.
Jiang Lin glanced at him and said, "The place where you write novels."
After saying that, he took the lead and walked forward.
Yang Siming looked around, shuddered, and quickly followed.
With a creaky sound, the door of Shumozhai was opened.
There is a lot of space inside, with many desks.
Some of the ghosts were writing something, surrounded by a group of burly men.
Or read a book, or look at the paper the ghosts are writing on.
The moment the door was opened, all the ghosts in the house looked over.
All the faces were expressionless.
Yang Siming was so frightened that he took a step back and almost fainted.
"It turns out to be Lord Wuchang, please take a seat."
When they saw Jiang Lin, all the burly men stood up and came over.
He rubbed his hands and showed an honest smile on his rough face, "Sir, if there is anything we can help you with, just tell me."
Jiang Lin nodded and pulled Yang Siming out from behind him.
"Starting today, he will also be writing a novel here. I will pick him up in seven days."
The leading man glanced at Yang Siming who was shaking like a ball, patted his chest and assured: "Don't worry, sir, leave it to us!"
"Um."
Jiang Lin nodded and turned to look at Yang Siming, "Remember, there are only seven days."
"Master Wuwuwuchang, I, I, I..."
Yang Siming trembled and wanted to follow Jiang Lin out.
"Brother, come here."
The big man in the lead came forward, put his arm around Yang Siming's shoulder and walked inside.
"Come here, let me introduce you. This will be your writing desk from now on."
Jiang Lin didn't plan to stay any longer, and the moment he turned around and left.
The ghosts who were writing on the desk in the house all had terrified expressions.
The big men gathered around the desk, some bent over, some leaned on the beams.
Everyone took out their own stuff.
Some are a stick, some are an axe, and some are a rope.
The big men looked at the authors at their desks with 'kind' smiles on their faces.
"Squeak——" the door of Shumozhai closed.
When the viewers in the live broadcast room saw the expressions of fear on the faces of the authors, they felt something was wrong.
When he saw the big men taking out their weapons one by one, his eyes widened.
"Oh my goodness! So you're all waiting here!"
"What the hell! What is this for ?"
"I see. Are they going to write a blood oath?"
"I'm such a good guy, this is how the blood letter came about???"
“…”
Facing the doubts of the netizens, Jiang Lin explained: "Nothing will happen. We are a professional team to urge updates here."
There are also many people in the underworld who love to read stories, because ghosts don’t need much sleep, so...
When I couldn't fall asleep halfway through reading a story, some ghosts would just squat at the author's doorstep.
Originally, I did this just to see new content as quickly as possible, but over time, more and more people started squatting at the door.
Later on, whenever the authors went out or went shopping, there would be people following them, urging them to update faster.
Gradually, these people spontaneously formed a team to urge for updates.
When the ghosts in the underworld found out, they directly "invited" the author they followed to come over.
By now, this group of people has become a relatively professional team that urges for updates.
As if responding to Jiang Lin's words.
The next moment, the sound of ping-pong came from the Shumozhai behind him.
"Write quickly! Stop touching your fingernails, what's there to touch?!"
"Why are you looking at him? Is there any story behind his face?"
"clang--!"
"You are all talented people in our underworld. You can write and tell stories! Our lives depend on you. Come on!"
“Pick up your pen and start writing! If you don’t struggle now, when will you struggle?!”
"If you finish writing three chapters within an hour, you can get a chicken drumstick for your next meal!"
Listen to the sounds coming from inside, and think about the sizes and weapons of those big men.
The viewers in the live broadcast room swallowed their saliva, and the picture suddenly came into their mind.
"It is indeed a professional team. They use both soft and hard tactics. If you write well, you can get a reward."
"I can't hold it in anymore hahahahahahahahaha..."
"Since I joined the professional update urging team in the underworld, I no longer have to worry about the author delaying the update~"
"Come on, great author. I have full confidence in you (dog head)."
The netizens didn’t expect that there was such a team in the underworld, and they immediately felt like they had learned something new.
At the same time, some people who like to follow dramas, books, and comics feel a little envious.
I wish I could have a professional team to urge the fans to update ten or eight chapters a day.
Inside the Shumozhai.
Yang Siming had just sat down trembling when the big man stuffed a stack of white papers into his hand.
"Come, let's see which pen you are used to using?"
Yang Siming looked back and saw a row of various pens.
Brushes, pencils, ballpoint pens, colored pens...a full range of options.
He chose a ballpoint pen.
The big man immediately put away the other pens, patted him on the shoulder and said with a smile: "Come on, tell us anytime if you run out of pens and ink, and tell us if you're hungry or cold. We're all friends."
When Yang Siming heard this, he immediately became excited: "Can I take a break first? I..."
Before he could finish his words, the big man narrowed his eyes, looking a little sinister.
"Brother, we are ghosts. It doesn't matter whether we rest or not...right?"
Yang Siming swallowed and nodded.
The big man continued kindly, "If you want to rest or massage your arms and legs, you can, but now is our writing time. You see everyone is writing, right?"
Yang Siming could only continue nodding.
"Then let's start writing. I want to see what story you're writing."
“…”
Yang Siming picked up the pen tremblingly and looked at the white paper in front of him, his mind going blank.
How many years have you not written by hand?
I can't remember.
What's the plot?
Where did he write before?
When will Lord Wuchang come back...?
"boom!"
A loud noise brought Yang Siming's wandering thoughts back.
When he looked up, he saw the big man next to him took out a mace.
Smiling, looking at him kindly, "Come on~"
Yang Siming swallowed again and glanced at the other authors out of the corner of his eye.
All of those authors were surrounded by a number of big men with weapons.
“…”
He looked at the white paper in front of him and slowly uttered a few words.
——Chapter 103.
…
