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

My mind returned completely to writing.

The senior is right.

I'm not in a position to ask too many questions right now.

Only by achieving results and establishing a firm foothold step by step can we have the opportunity to get closer to the truth.

I took a deep breath.

The restlessness in my chest gradually subsided.

My gaze fell on the blank document.

The screen's light is soft yet clear.

It illuminated the newly lit road before me.

Following the newly revised outline, I began writing entirely new chapters.

No hesitation.

There was no lag.

The characters' motivations, the intensity of the conflict, and the pacing are all crystal clear.

In the past, writing a single chapter would require racking my brains and dawdling for several hours.

He scratched his head, unable to utter more than a few lines of text.

I doubted myself as I wrote.

I was typing while simultaneously doubting myself.

Now that my thoughts are flowing smoothly, the words seem to flow out on their own.

The sound of fingertips tapping the keyboard is crisp and steady.

In the quiet room, it gently echoes.

Time passed little by little.

A complete chapter was successfully completed.

I read it through once.

There was no unnecessary build-up.

No self-indulgent nonsense.

The plot is fast-paced.

The tension is at its maximum.

The ending also leaves plenty of room for interpretation.

Compared to the original, rambling account, it's completely different now.

A sense of solid accomplishment welled up inside me.

Three years.

For the first time, I felt so confident in my writing.

For the first time, I dared to believe that I could actually write well.

Without delay, I uploaded and published the new chapter immediately.

The moment I clicked "publish," I felt much calmer.

I'm no longer as nervous and restless as I was last night.

We're on the right track.

The content is solid.

The rest is up to time and the readers.

After posting, I opened the comments section again.

The new chapter hasn't generated many comments yet.

However, positive reviews for the older chapters continue to increase.

Some people are discussing the plot.

Some people are speculating about what will happen next.

People are still urging for more updates.

Seeing these enthusiastic messages warmed my heart.

I've been writing for three years.

For the first time, I felt this so vividly:

To be anticipated and understood is such a blissful thing.

I didn't disturb the Arctic shrimp any further.

Since the other party is already offline, you shouldn't send a message rashly.

That senior colleague was aloof.

Decisive in doing things.

They clearly don't like being constantly bothered by others.

I am well aware of this.

They also cherished this hard-won guidance.

I closed the chat window and began to organize the following detailed outline.

Prepare well.

Take it one step at a time.

That's what it means to be responsible for yourself.

It is also to live up to the other party's guidance.

Just as I was concentrating on sorting out the plot, an in-app message popped up.

I froze.

I don't have many readers right now.

I receive very few private messages.

Who could have sent the message?

I clicked on it casually.

The message was sent by a long-time reader.

I've been reading it since the first day I started reading it.

I've left comments a few times before, and my tone has always been very gentle.

"Author, you've changed so much lately! I almost thought you had a different writer!"

I stared at the message for a moment, slightly taken aback.

It's more than just big.

In just a few days, my writing philosophy was almost completely overturned.

It felt like someone had pulled me out of the fog.

"I've figured out a lot of things lately, and I'll keep doing that."

The other party replied quickly:

"Great! Please don't stop updating, I'll definitely keep following!"

Simple encouragement, yet incredibly powerful.

I nodded, my resolve growing stronger.

Just as I was about to close the private message page,

That aloof ID flashed through my mind once again.

Arctic sweet shrimp.

If it weren't for that late night, if it weren't for those few merciless comments.

I'm probably still wandering in the dark right now.

This book is probably long forgotten.

I sighed softly.

Curiosity, doubt, gratitude, awe...

A mix of emotions welled up gently in my heart.

What kind of past does this suddenly appearing mentor have?

How high a position did you stand in?

Why did he choose to retire?

There is no answer to any question.

But I'm no longer impatient.

The senior explained it very clearly.

When the time comes, you will know.

There's only one thing I need to do right now.

Write.

Keep writing.

Make a name for yourself.

Write down your grades.

Write your own path.

Only when you are strong enough can you be qualified to touch those deeply hidden secrets.

I sat up straight again, my eyes bright and determined.

I opened a new document, ready to continue writing the next chapter.

The sunlight slowly moved, illuminating half of the tabletop.

The room was quiet, with only the soft sound of keyboards echoing.

What I don't know is,

In places I cannot see,

A quiet gaze had already silently settled on my work.

He didn't speak.

No disturbance.

I just watched quietly.

This struggling author, whose life was casually awakened by Arctic shrimp...

Step by step, they are emerging with their own glimmer of light.

[End of Chapter]