The Pen God: My Mentor in the Film and Television Industry

Just as I was about to continue typing, my phone suddenly lit up on the home screen.

It was a message from my mother:

"Is your classmate's father an orthopedic doctor? We don't have his contact information, do you have it?"

My fingertips paused, and I tapped them lightly on the edge of the table.

I mentally reviewed the situation: my classmate's father does work at the hospital, so it would be the perfect person to ask him for help with this.

I scrolled through my contacts for a long time before finally finding the name I hadn't contacted in ages.

My Adam's apple bobbed slightly. I took a deep breath and pressed the dial button anyway.

The call was answered quickly. After a few brief pleasantries, I told him about my mother's back pain.

My classmate readily agreed and said he would ask his father right away and tell me to wait for his call back.

I held my phone and waited quietly.

A short while later, the phone rang again:

"I just talked to my dad. At Auntie's age, her back shouldn't be taken lightly. It would be best to get an X-ray and a CT scan to make sure everything is clear before we can be at ease."

I gripped my phone tightly, my fingertips pressing down hard, my heart heavy.

"I'll make the appointment. Just send me the aunt's name and ID number."

I quickly agreed, speaking very softly, but my heart was growing increasingly anxious.

"So... how much will the checkup cost?"

"The total cost for the X-ray and CT scan is 401. The hospital will pay first, and medical insurance can reimburse part of it later."

He spoke very gently, as if afraid of putting me in a difficult position:

"If it's inconvenient for you, I can put it under you first."

I almost blurted out that I didn't want to owe anyone a favor:

"No need, no need, I can't let you pay for it. I'll transfer it to you later."

As soon as I finished speaking, my heart sank.

My fingertips trembled slightly as I tapped on my mobile banking app, and the balance line was clearly displayed:

327.64.

The numbers were so bright they hurt my eyes. I stared at the screen for a long time without moving, even my breathing slowed down.

After hanging up the phone, I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in my chair.

The only sound in the room was the old fan whirring, not loud, but extremely annoying.

My fingernails dug gently into my palm, and the pain brought me back to my senses a little.

I stay up all night every day writing, until my eyes are blurry, my shoulders are stiff, and I don't dare to sleep until dawn.

They lived hand to mouth, but in the end, they couldn't even come up with 401 yuan.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, my gaze had turned cold.

Complaining and blaming others is useless. You chose this path yourself, there's no turning back, you can only move forward.

The most urgent thing right now is to borrow money.

I opened my contacts, my fingers swiping slowly across the screen as my gaze swept over each name.

Many people have not been in touch for a long time, and when they are in trouble, they don't know who to ask for help.

Finally, I stopped at a brother's profile picture—our closest friend from school, and we've never completely lost touch over the years.

I open the input box, type, delete, type again, delete again.

Ten minutes passed, and only two words remained on the screen:

"Are you there."

I rested my hands on the edge of the table, leaned forward slightly, and stared at the screen as if waiting for a verdict.

A few minutes later, the phone vibrated slightly.

"What's wrong?"

My fingertips hovered over the screen, and after a long hesitation, I slowly typed out a line:

"Are you free on cash lately?"

"I'm fine, what's wrong?"

"There's an emergency at home, and I need the money."

"What's wrong? Is it serious?"

"My mom needs to get checked out, but we don't have enough money."

How much do you want?

"500 will do."

The air seemed to freeze, the room was eerily quiet, with only the fan still spinning tirelessly.

I stared at the screen, wanting to retract the message several times, but I forced myself to hold back.

Asking to borrow money is a truly unpleasant experience.

Just when I was about to give up, a new message popped up:

"I've transferred it to you, just in case."

The moment the transfer notification popped up, I let out a long breath, and my tense shoulders finally relaxed slightly.

Without hesitation, I opened my classmate's chat window and transferred 500 yuan directly.

The next second, the money was returned:

"You don't need that many, just transfer to 401."

With a flick of my finger, I typed 401, and the money was transferred without missing a single cent. Then I sent a message:

"Thank you so much this time, you've been a huge help."

The other party replied quickly:

"It's nothing, it's nothing."

I may be poor, but I will accept whatever I deserve; I will not lose any of the dignity I should have.

After transferring the money, I gently placed my phone on the table; the matter was finally completely settled.

I just sent a message to my mom:

"Mom, I've made the arrangements. Just go for the check-up on time. Remember to keep the receipts; you can get reimbursed later."

The message was successfully sent, but the screen light was so bright it made my eyes feel strained.

I slowly turned my head back, my gaze returning to the computer screen.

Structure, conflict, hook.

What I used to think were just vague writing terms now weigh heavily on my mind.

If you can't write a good book, you'll even have difficulty fulfilling your filial duties.

I raised my hand, my fingertips lightly landing on the keyboard, ready to continue writing.

Just as I was about to type the first word, a flash suddenly appeared in the lower right corner of the screen.

A familiar profile picture quietly pops up a new message notification.

It's Arctic sweet shrimp.

I froze, and my breathing unconsciously slowed down.

What was bound to happen has finally happened.

[End of Chapter]