Su Luo opened her eyes again with great anticipation, and saw the dilapidated roof, the fat black pig's trotters, and Gu Yi standing next to her with an impatient look on his face.
She covered her face with tears in her eyes, realizing that there was no going back.
Damn it.
Didn't she just have a bad ending, with both the hero and heroine being killed in an alley by the villain?
Isn’t she the junior high school book fan who opened a small account overnight, fought against a hundred people with words, and scolded the whole group until they cried?
Didn't she just make some dirty money as usual?
These weren't serious crimes, were they? Was it necessary to let her wake up and be cannon fodder in a rival author's novel?
Isn't it okay that she was wrong?
Hold!
Su Luo took a deep breath and comforted herself. The spiritual spring was still there, she would still be beautiful, her brain was still there, and she could still write books.
If God had not taken back my wise brain, hadn't he already paved the way to Rome for me?
Su Luo, cheer up.
She stood up with a smile on her face, and looked kindly at Gu, who was sitting at the table and drinking porridge calmly without caring about her life or death: "Mom's little baby~"
Gu Yi: "...cough cough..."
He calmly wiped the porridge stains from the corner of his mouth, glanced at Su Luo, and continued to drink porridge.
Su Luo smiled and said, "Mom has discovered that after my trip to Hades' Palace, I have suddenly become clear-minded and cheerful, as if I were reborn. I have regretted the foolish things I did before. From today on, I will turn over a new leaf and become a good mother. Can you give Mom a chance to reform?"
Gu Yi ignored her and took the bowl to the kitchen after finishing his breakfast.
She had read this novel before. Because it was a competition between colleagues, she read it more seriously than her own novels, just to know herself and the enemy so as to win every battle.
This novel is about a fictional 1970s. The competitor is also a lazy and quick-money author who did not do any in-depth research on the data of the 1970s, so he deliberately made up a fictional 1970s.
Here, everyone else has to work, but Su Luo doesn't, because Su Luo has been expelled from the entire village and excluded.
That's why Su Luo was so poor that she couldn't afford to eat, and had to sell lifelike dolls to earn a simple living.
Su Luo sighed quietly. Even though she said that she had reformed, the other party definitely didn't believe her.
Change is done, not said.
Although she didn't know how to farm or do any work, she had knowledge, a pen, and a brain, so she wouldn't starve to death in that era.
There are many newspapers in this era. As a full-time novelist for more than ten years, she has written a lot, but also read even more.
Just writing a few books by Jin Yong, Gu Long, Liang Yusheng and other people would be enough for her to make a living in this fictional era.
Things become easier if you have money.
The idea behind this matter is very simple. She was killed by these three villain kids and their father. So she just needs to reform herself and become a new person, and use her overflowing maternal love to influence these little bastards, before their bullying dad shows up!
She was sitting on the bed thinking when Gu Yi pushed the door open.
Su Luo put on a kind expression: "What's wrong, baby?"
Gu Yi's face darkened. "Someone from my grandfather's family will come to collect the debt tomorrow. I asked him to dig ten kilograms of wild vegetables, but there are still two kilograms left."
"Oh~" Su Luo nodded, and dug out some scattered memories from the original owner's memory. It was indeed true. She smiled and said, "Then you should go quickly, otherwise you may not be able to finish digging before dark."
Gu Yi pursed his lips, slammed the door with a dark face, and went out alone with the basket and tools.
When Su Luo saw him leave, she quickly got up and went to find paper and pen.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to help, but she has to help in the right way.
You can’t make yourself rich by picking wild vegetables, but you can by writing novels.
She entered Gu Yi's room. In her memory, Gu Yi was eager to go to school. Children from the same village once gave him a clean grid notebook and a pencil, but he was reluctant to use them and hid them under the clothes in the closet, treating them like treasures.
Writing by hand is much slower than typing on a computer.
Su Luo's body was so weak that she drank several mouthfuls of spiritual spring water before her strength was restored a little.
I wrote in pencil and in a grid notebook, writing furiously for two hours and only managed to write about two thousand words.
Using the computer, she can write nearly 7,000 words in an hour without making any revisions.
Now she had been writing for two hours, and she had only written about Duan Yu's first appearance in the martial arts training hall, chatting and arguing with several martial artists, and she hadn't even written about Zhong Ling's appearance...
The speed of writing made her recall her youthful years as a freshman at the age of 18, when she stayed up late in bed with her computer, secretly typing away, pressing the keys one by one in an outrageously slow pace so as not to disturb her roommates. This was the beginning of her business.
In the evening, Gu Yi returned home with pots and bowls full of wild vegetables. The kitchen was empty and only Su Luo's room had a dim light on.
He seemed to be accustomed to this kind of scene, and began to fetch water, clean the pots, and light a fire to heat the stove skillfully.
It was the hottest time of the year, and the little guy was only seven years old. Due to long-term malnutrition, he was not even as tall as the stove, but he was already able to make a fire skillfully. He moved the small stool in front of the stove to the side, stood on the stool, and used a ladle to fetch water to wash the pot. His hands and feet were very nimble.
But the house was running out of rice, so he washed, cut and threw the sweet potatoes that the grandma next door had secretly given him into the pot. He added some washed wild vegetables and cooked them, which became his dinner.
Su Luo was still writing furiously. She had almost used up all the ink in one pencil, and there was pencil ash at her feet. Fortunately, there was another pencil next to her, which should be enough for her to write.
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