Cheng Zhirang had been holding the same letter for more than three minutes when Mu Qiu, who had just escaped from Inspiration Kingdom and was zoning out, noticed that something was off about him.
His Adam's apple bobbed twice in a row, his lips pressed tight, his head tilted to one side but his eyes shut.
His emotions seemed a bit repressed, like he was reading some particularly touching letter.
She didn't say anything. After watching him for a while and confirming he didn't need comforting, she lowered her head and went back to typing.
What she hit out, though, was a string of gibberish.
She suddenly wondered, in a story, what is it that really leaves a mark on people? Smooth sailing, safety, sweetness and happiness?
No, it's regret, it's unwillingness, it's those gut-wrenching scenes. Only when "peace and smooth sailing" becomes a luxury will people stay hung up on that kind of imperfection…
She had already decided what new genre she wanted to write.
