48 Hours a Day

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Spring is going to fall, Zhang Heng has been in this manor for three years in a blink of an eye, and his writing skills have been successfully upgraded to lv2 as early as a year ago, which is the same as the best-selling fantasy female author. .

I have to say that the environment of this manor is really suitable for practicing writing. After all, the opportunity to live with the best authors in the world can be said to be unique.

Although these authors have more or less minor problems, such as Hemingway’s love wine as one’s life, such as Mark Twain’s poisonous tongue, Fitzgerald was dizzy when he saw a woman… But their talents are all It cannot be denied, and the most important thing is that there is nothing else to do in this manor. They are also happy to answer Zhang Heng’s various doubts and help him read his newly created articles.

This afternoon, Hemingway was reading a novella just written by Zhang Heng. After reading it, he put down the manuscript in his hand and frowned.

“How is it?” Zhang Heng asked.

“The technique is impeccable, and I have nothing to teach you, but I always feel that something is missing when I read this article.”

“Emotion.” Fitzgerald hit the nail on the head.

“Yes.” Hemingway lit a cigar. “Although there are some Sects who emphasize that the narrator should maintain an objective perspective, this does not mean that there are no emotions in their articles, but they put these emotions in It’s up to the characters in the book to show the creator’s emotions.”

Hemingway paused when he said, “Speaking of which, I’ve always been a little weird. When I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of person who was incapable of anger and anger, but I got along for a long time It seems that you have never really been angry, or have been particularly happy, have you always been like this, your spirit… rarely fluctuates?”

“Not always, I still had normal feelings before. Although it was lighter than the ordinary person, but because of certain things, my feelings gradually disappeared and became what I am now.” Zhang Heng said.

“No offense, but if possible, I am willing to spend money to make what happened to you happen to me again.” Fitzgerald said sadly.

Hemingway disagreed, “It is impossible to write truly strong words without experiencing these fragile moments.” After speaking, he looked towards Zhang Heng again, “Your problem is troublesome, although you only pursue rapid popularity, But no matter what kind of literary work is impossible, there is no emotion.”

“It’s not completely incomprehensible,” Marquez on the other side interrupted, “If it’s just a popular reading, just add some fake feelings. Although this kid has no feelings, let him watch a dozen In this novel about emotions, he can also draw a tiger using a cat as a model.”

“Sorry, I may not have made it clear before. My new book does pursue rapid popularity, but apart from this is also important. I want readers to really believe the story in the book.” Zhang Heng said.

“A story without sufficient emotional foundation is difficult to be convincing.” Fitzgerald said, “After all, reading for pastime is one thing, but it is another thing to really impress the reader. Put your own emotions in it, and it will probably resonate with your readers.”

His words also aroused the approval of several writers present.

But then Hemingway patted Zhang Heng’s shoulder, “You don’t have to worry, after all, so many of us are here, how can everyone work together to help you come up with a solution.”

…………

After returning from the author’s party at Hemingway, Zhang Heng did not go directly to his room.

Instead, I turned around and came to the back kitchen. After upgrading his writing skills to lv2, Zhang Heng can clearly feel that it has become more and more difficult to improve, otherwise the fantasy best-selling female writers will not come in for so long Failed to get lv3.

This is not just a technical thing, it involves a writer’s perception and refinement of his own life, as well as his views on the world around him. Zhang Heng does not lack experience, or to be more precise, there is none in this manor. A person is richer than his life experience. Even the legendary Hemingway in his life may not be able to compare with the excitement of a copy of Zhang Heng.

But refining and integrating these experiences into one’s own words is not something that can be accomplished overnight. It also requires a process of accumulation.

Zhang Heng is not in a hurry. After all, he didn’t stay in the third time for this copy after counting his extra 24 hours, but he temporarily put it down before his writing skills reached lv2. , But it can continue.

For example, the mysterious room 515.

It is said that there lives the most mysterious author in the entire manor. No one has ever seen him walk out of his room, and even the windows of the suite are completely covered by curtains. .

For this reason, some people couldn’t help but ridicule that there was an old vampire who lived there for hundreds of years, and everyone in the Reasoning Society firmly believed that the owner of the manor lived in that room.

After living in the manor for two years, Zhang Heng is increasingly inclined to agree with them.

The reason is simple, because Zhang Heng has eliminated all other suspects, whether it is the residents or the service staff.

It’s as if you are doing multiple-choice questions. After all the wrong options are eliminated, the remaining one should be the correct answer no matter how bizarre it is.

However, Zhang Heng had been turned away from several visits before. After he knocked on the door and reported his name, there was no reaction at all, as if no one was living there.

So Zhang Heng decided to use something else this time. He walked into the back kitchen and said to the chef there, “I want to order a dish.”

“Of course, the manor will meet the requirements of all guests.” The chef respectfully said.

“I want to eat dry fried Niuhe, but the dry fried Niuhe I want is more special. I remember that I had a bowl of Niuhe at a stall when I was traveling in Guangdong. It was the best I have ever eaten. Niuhe, I want to eat Niuhe that is the same as the one I ate that day.”

Faced with this obviously a difficult request, the chef still appeared polite, “Okay, can you tell me the name of the food stall?”

“No, I have forgotten it.”

Hearing this answer, the chef finally showed an embarrassed expression on his face, but he was still respectful, “Well, we can try to do it, but the number of attempts will probably be more, and You need to give us feedback in time.”

“No problem.” Zhang Heng said.

Two hours later, everyone in the kitchen was tossed out of sweat, surrounded by Zhang Heng, nervously watching him taste the first bowl of Niuhe.

I saw Zhang Heng pick up a piece of Pho with his chopsticks, put a piece of beef into his mouth, closed his eyes and chewed slowly, about ten seconds, Zhang Heng put down his chopsticks, nodded, “It’s this smell.”

Suddenly, cheers broke out in the entire kitchen, as if the scientists in the research institute had just overcome a world problem.