In fact, Anyaa's computer is not related either. Yaolai clicked the mouse lightly and the screen was lit up. Yaolai pointed to the welcome screen on the screen and asked Anyaa, "What's the password?"

"What are you doing?" Anyaa exclaimed. The heart of precaution has not slackened in the slightest.

"Simple" Yao Lai muttered silently, and then pulled out a forefinger from his right hand, which he squeezed into a fist, and poked one of the three abc keys.

It's a password that doesn't have to be guessed at all.

Anyaa didn't know what medicine Yao came to buy in the gourd. At this moment, I was really frightened and surprised at the same time. God, what the hell is going on, what the hell is this big living person doing? I think I should call 110 as soon as possible!

After the computer was unlocked, it was the writing software that Anyaa opened yesterday. Yao Lai clicked the cross with the mouse, and then a browser appeared on the screen.

Anyaa thought about it for one night last night, and didn't move a word. Looking at his poor column data and only two novels, he was sad all night alone, and then he opened the writing software and his head was empty of regret for a while, and then he was sad. go to sleep.

Who knew that when I woke up in the morning, I ran into such a "weird person".

"Then, look, I came out of here. There are many writers in Jinjiang who come to Chao Kaikeng for a while, and there are more of me than them." Yaolai's eyes suddenly darkened a lot, and then she seemed very disappointed. , She looked out the window, Anyaa felt that if she could still hold a lit cigarette, it would be more artistic, although Anyaa is a smoke-freeist.

Yao came to see that Anyaa didn't respond, and continued: "In every unfinished pit, we people have nowhere to go. We are forever floating in the text, just want to find a home, do you understand?"

Anyaa shook her head.

"The author who wrote me has not been updated for two years. A few days ago, she finally went online, but she just left a message saying that he will not write the article to which I belong."

"It's a bit good~ I know, and I took the initiative to admit that I was a pit." Anyaa usually hates authors who dig pits the most. More than a dozen pits, no sense of responsibility. But now doesn't seem to be the time to talk about this, after all, I haven't figured out what this Yao is going to do. "But what are you doing here with me? If you stay any longer, I will call the police."

"I need an ending, an ending of my own, do you understand?" Yao Lai didn't say anything more. His eyes suddenly lost focus, as if he was thinking about some profound problem. After about a quarter of an hour, Yao Lai's eyes became focused and bright, "I thought about it, you are the author, you write stories for me, but I am The female match can only be forced into your story, you don't need to write me in your story, I will find my own place to live."

"Your place to live? What is that?" Anyaa doesn't know whether to believe in Yaolai or treat him as a lunatic now, because he really can't take Yaolai's words as fact, she knows that although she is the author of illusions, But phantasmagoria is imaginary, and it is impossible to appear in real life, so what is Yaolai?

"You just need to write as I say. Originally, you can write whatever you want. Of course, if you already have a story at hand, I can change it myself."

The police report was suddenly forgotten. Anyaa said, "I. I don't have a story. I have two finished ones. Do you want them?"

"It can't be finished, it must be unfinished, so that I can go in and rewrite it. I see that your column doesn't seem to have any new articles, otherwise you can see if you have any unpublished manuscripts?"

"Save the manuscript?" Anyaa lowered his head, then raised his head, and thought about it seriously, he liked writing since he was a child, and started writing novels when he was very young. I passed it on to my classmates, and occasionally summoned the courage to send it to the magazine, but I never heard back, and it seems that the manuscript or something can still be found. Anyaa got up and lifted his bed board. Many things seemed to be stored under the bed before. When he opened some dusty cardboard boxes, Anyaa pulled out a notebook.

"This is a manuscript from the past. It was sent to the magazine, but it has not been published. It seems that this manuscript is the only manuscript I can think of. Look, does this work?"

Yao took a look at Anyaa, took the notebook with disdain, flipped it roughly, and then stayed on the last page: "This, why haven't I finished writing it?"

"It was originally finished, and it was divided into two books. Only this one remained, and the other one was not found."

"Well. Even if it's unfinished, I think it's ok. Don't revise the part you wrote, and then I'll read it carefully. I'll be added to the later story, you just need to write, as for the story. Evolution, don't intervene too much, send me away as soon as possible, and you will be freed as soon as possible."

Anyaa's ignorant state is still not lifted: "What do you say, it's what it is."

Yao Lai sat down: "Let me read this article first. When did you write this?"

"a decade ago."

"No wonder the writing is so naive, ah, it's still the first person! You were not afraid of challenges when you were young!"

Anyaa wanted to find a tree hole to crawl into.

The above is reality

=========

Here is the story

Hello, my name is Lin Yibo, I am sixteen years old, and I am a freshman in high school.

Is my self-introduction cliché?No way, who called me a layman?In fact, I was born in a high-ranking family, and should be said to be a standard scholarly family. It can be clearly seen from the name my father gave, but I was not influenced by the family environment.It is "out of the mud and not stained", so people often speculate about my birth, my family, and even whether I have a family.