Chapter 089 What the people want?
"One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three, four..."
In the ghost market, the ghosts who were rehearsing a dance shouted slogans in unison.
The viewers in the live broadcast room opened their mouths slightly and watched the rehearsal in disbelief.
“…”
Can you imagine a group of ghosts standing together and doing a 'dance' like radio gymnastics?
Can you imagine these ghosts jumping around, ripping off an arm and waving to the audience?
One ghost even jumped and its head rolled down.
The other ghost didn't see it and stepped on it.
The ghost head let out a "wow", and the ghost who stepped on it fell to the ground with his buttocks broken off.
This sudden incident immediately scared the coward behind him.
The coward whined.
Jump onto a dance partner next to you, and when it reacts...
He looked down at the fierce-looking warrior he was holding and closed his eyes instantly.
I don't know whether he fainted from fright or was pretending.
See this.
Some of the netizens were laughing like crazy, while others looked weird.
"It seems that daily life in the underworld is also colorful hahahahaha..."
"We must learn to appreciate species diversity~"
"Where are the bosses? Let's arrange the Q version of the underworld dance!"
“Fuck, I feel like there’s going to be a new wave in the short video area.”
“…”
After wandering around the ghost market for a while, Jiang Lin closed the live broadcast room and went back to practice.
He had a feeling that he was only one step away from reaching the realm of Ghost King.
Use points to exchange for Yin Qi Pills, and then enter the training room to practice.
For Jiang Lin now, cultivation depends on how many Yin Qi Pills he has in his hand.
With more Yin Qi Pills, your realm will naturally improve.
…
The residential area behind the ghost market.
Shumozhai.
The door was still closed, and from time to time some ping-pong sounds could be heard coming from inside.
Or some inspirational quotes encouraging people to work hard.
From the outside, it seems that they are full of energy and enthusiasm.
However, once you enter Shumozhai, you will find that there is a depressing atmosphere inside.
The only ones who are full of spirit are the big men.
And those authors are all listless.
He was half lying on the table, his cheeks sunken, his eyes filled with deep fatigue, and one hand weakly holding a pen.
It was as if he was taking his last breath.
The key point is that even in this state, their hands still did not stop.
Each stroke fell slowly on the white paper.
The words come out one by one, slowly forming a sentence and constructing pictures.
Don't they want to rest?
No, they dare not stop writing!
Yang Siming is also one of them.
When he first came, he was a little chubby and looked fleshy.
But now, the whole person seems to be drained and has lost a lot of weight.
Both mental and physical emaciation.
At first he heard the big men say that if he finished the novel on time he could have an extra meal at the next meal.
He is quite looking forward to it.
But gradually, he found something was wrong.
After being carried into the house again and again, Yang Siming realized that meals were only served once every three days.
In other words, the so-called extra meal is also once every three days...
That's it.
For these ghosts, they are actually living a pretty good life.
To Yang Siming, this was simply unimaginable.
In the past, we had three meals a day, but now we only have one meal every three days...
Yang Siming felt like crying.
However, this is not the most difficult part.
For writers, the most frustrating thing is writer's block.
Can't write.
Sometimes there are clear ideas and plots.
But either I can’t write it, or what I write doesn’t quite fit the style.
It's very uncomfortable.
Yang Siming originally thought that since these people didn’t know what was written in the front anyway, he might as well just write something casually.
Or just fill it with water.
However, he was warned by the big men just after he wrote this twice.
Flooding? Writing nonsense?
You want a stick?
Although the men had not read the previous text, they could basically know what the story was through what Yang Siming had written in the past few days.
Moreover, just by comparing them, you can roughly tell whether there is any spam or random writing.
The professional team that urges for updates is not just a name .
It would be unprofessional to just pick something and try to fool readers out there.
Readers won’t buy it.
Yang Siming wanted to cry about this.
He rarely has problems.
But after several days of continuous output, he felt that he was about to collapse.
but!
He didn't dare stop writing!
Yang Siming secretly glanced at the big man holding a mace beside him, and didn't dare to even have any thoughts.
"Xiao Tianjing is looking for the goddess in the human world. He has been to many continents and many small worlds."
"Whether prosperous or desolate, human beings are struggling to survive."
"As time went by, the goddess sacrificed herself for the three realms, allowing many lives to continue to survive... and it became a story. Some people believed it, while others didn't care..."
While writing, Yang Siming paid attention to the movements at the gate.
Today is the seventh day.
When will Lord Wuchang come?
Could it be that Lord Wuchang has forgotten to come and pick him up?
Just as Yang Siming was expecting it, there was a click.
The door of Shumozhai was slowly pushed open.
"Lord Wuchang!"
Yang Siming's eyes lit up, and in an instant, his whole face was radiant!
He stood up suddenly and threw the pen in his hand away.
Just run towards the gate.
However, the next second, his forward movement froze.
At the front door, two big men were dragging an author who had run away because he couldn't stand it anymore, and were heading into the house.
Then he ruthlessly pushed the author back to where he should be, and took out a rope to tie up his legs.
“…”
Yang Siming shuddered all over.
For some reason, the scene before my eyes was neither bloody nor violent.
But he just felt a little fear for some reason.
Later, Yang Siming realized that it might be a kind of panic of "despair".
Without waiting for the big man to remind him, Yang Siming had already sat back in his seat and picked up the discarded pen.
All the expectations in my heart turned into tears, and the tears flowed like a river.
Woohoo, when will Lord Wuchang come?
Could it be that you really have forgotten him?
…
Jiang Lin naturally did not forget.
After he finished the work on his notebook, he went to practice for a while.
He is not in a hurry, and Yang Siming can have more time to write.
When Jiang Lin thought the time was about right, he walked out of the training room.
I opened the live broadcast room and went to the residential area behind the ghost market.
In front of Shumozhai.
The couplet looked even newer, as if someone had wiped it specially.
First couplet: Pick up the sword and go into battle;
Second line: Go ahead and let your imagination run wild;
Horizontal banner: The people’s will.
It is said that this couplet was written by the founder of the team that urges for updates here.
"Where is this? Why does this couplet look so familiar?"
"That's the author who died before he finished writing his novel. It seems like today is the seventh day."
Many viewers flocked into the live broadcast room, including many who had seen Yang Siming enter Shu Mo Zhai that day.
When they saw the name Shu Mo Zhai again, they thought of the team that urged for updates.
"Hahaha, I think I know what this couplet at the door means!"
"Just pick up your sword and start fighting, just go ahead and do what your imagination allows, the people will support you... What the hell, is this talking about the update-urging team, the readers, and the author?"
"It is indeed what the people want (dog head)!"
…
