Infinity: Our Zhongzhou team is really amazing!

Chapter 697 Zhan Lan, the Ninth-Rate Novelist

Just as Zhuang Boshi and Zhao Yingkong were helping Ming Yanwei overcome her inner demons, another group of inner demon hunters was about to set off.

"Are you ready?" Zheng Zha asked Zhan Lan.

Wearing a high-tech hood, Zhan Lan said with some concern, "What's the point of saying anything now that things are like this?"

Zheng Zha turned to look at Zhang Jie, Cheng Xiao, and Zero.

Chu Xuan pushed up his glasses and looked at Luo Li, who was silent to the side.

This is the setup for overcoming inner demons this time.

"Then let's begin," Chu Xuan said.

"Wait!" Zhan Lan still tried to struggle.

But the next moment, everything went black.

"Zhan Lan."

"Zhan Lan."

"Zhan Lan!"

It sounded like someone was anxiously calling her name.

Zhan Lan suddenly raised her head.

The dimly lit screen reflected a tired face.

She seemed not to recognize the face, and looked at it more closely.

Confirmed.

is her.

A pathetic novelist on the verge of starvation.

Zhan Lan rubbed her eyes: "She actually fell asleep."

She rubbed her shoulders; they were so sore.

Looking down again, she smiled helplessly.

It's too much of a burden.

Suddenly, Zhan Lan thought of something, looked at the computer in disbelief, and kept scrolling the mouse wheel. Her eyes widened, and finally she let out a scream.

"Gone!"

"It's gone!!"

Where is my manuscript?

"We're doomed!!"

"Sister Wang is going to tear me apart!"

Zhan Lan scratched her hair until it looked like a bird's nest, and paced anxiously back and forth in her tiny rented room of only twenty square meters.

Writing novels doesn't make money these days.

Especially for new writers like her who are not well-known.

Without traffic, and not writing fantasy novels, the path to print media is even more difficult.

Many works disappear without a trace, only appearing briefly in some obscure magazines.

Zhan Lan considered herself a literary beauty, having graduated from a prestigious 985 university with a degree in Modern Chinese Language and Literature and having read various books from home and abroad since childhood.

But once she actually embarked on this path, she realized she had oversimplified things.

After graduation, he faced numerous setbacks, his dream of becoming a great writer was shattered, and now he struggles to even make ends meet.

If she weren't the only one eating, she really wouldn't know what to do.

She walked to the mirror, looked at herself from left to right, and seemed to have lost weight. She immediately lowered her head listlessly.

How to do?How to do?
Are we really going to starve to death?

Or should she go back to her hometown to inherit her grandmother's estate and become a landlady?

Suddenly, the old Nokia phone emitted a jarring ringtone, and Zhan Lan jumped up like a startled rabbit.

A dozen seconds later, she carefully approached the phone, held it away from her ear, and pressed the answer button.

A heart-wrenching, furious roar, like that of a landlady, came from the other end of the phone, piercing her eardrums: "Zhan Lan!!!"

"You said you'd submit the manuscript an hour before midnight yesterday!"

"You promised to submit the manuscript an hour later before six o'clock this morning!"

"Look at the time!"

"Are you going to shut down the entire magazine just for you?"

"Sister Wang, Sister Wang, I'm so sorry!" Zhan Lan hurriedly nodded and bowed into the phone, acting as humbly as a farmhand.

"Sister Wang, I will definitely do it right away..."

"How long is 'soon'?" Editor Wang sneered.

"I don't need to teach you math, do I?"

Zhan Lan quickly shook her head: "No, no, I'm very good at math."

"I will definitely deliver the manuscript to you before 9:30."

"9:30?" the editor sneered.

"I'll give you another half hour!"

"If you hand me any more of that flimsy stuff before 10 o'clock!"

"Then you can forget about ever getting a copy of my magazine in your entire life."

The editor hung up the phone after finishing speaking.

Zhan Lan slumped to the ground like a deflated balloon.

"I'm going to die, I'm going to die."

"This is how to do?"

There's still an hour and a half until 10 o'clock, and I haven't finished any of the manuscript I was working on yesterday.

How could anyone possibly write that?

She frantically scratched her hair, but self-harm wouldn't conjure up any manuscript. Zhan Lan could only crawl to her computer desk like a zombie, her thick glasses framing her dark circles, and begin typing.

But for some reason, I can only clumsily type out words one by one, and I can't even write a paragraph.

I'm stuck in slump!
This is a common tribulation for writers.

Calvin seems to be a kind of inner demon, rampant in the literary world.

If one cannot overcome their inner demons, they cannot become a truly great writer and may very well succumb to them.

But Zhan Lan seems to be destined to be a great writer.

She had already suffered from burnout when she attempted her first work.

He wrote day and night, which caused him to lose all his hair. He became unkempt and hadn't gone out to socialize for a long time.

But today is different from usual. If she can't finish the manuscript within an hour and a half, she's afraid she won't even have money to pay for next month's rent, utilities, or food.

They might end up sleeping on the streets.

What should I do?
She rubbed her head in pain.

At that moment, the phone emitted a sharp sound again.

She let out a scream, staggered back a few steps as if possessed by a vengeful ghost, and then cautiously stepped forward.

The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.

She took a deep breath and carefully answered the phone.

Thankfully, a familiar female voice came from the other end of the conversation: "Zhan Lan?"

Zhan Lan breathed a sigh of relief: "Qianqian?"

A cheerful voice came from the other end of the phone: "Lanlan, are you alright?"

“After graduation, you stopped contacting everyone and went to Shanghai alone.”

"So, has the dream of becoming a great writer come true?"

Zhan Lan chuckled twice.

She and Qianqian were best friends in college. They went to classes together, watched TV dramas together, and admired male celebrities together.

However, after graduation, Zhan Lan chose to come to Shanghai alone to fulfill her dream of becoming a great writer, while Qianqian stayed in the city where the school was located.

"By the way, Lanlan, the class monitor is organizing a class meeting next month," Qianqian said.

You absolutely have to come.

"The class monitor couldn't reach you, so he had to contact you through me."

"A class reunion?" Zhan Lan's face turned green upon hearing this.

"Then I won't participate."

"How can this be?" Qianqian said, dissatisfied.

"You absolutely have to come. I haven't seen you for two years."

"You even changed your phone number!"

"Hum-"

The second hand of the clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, and Zhan Lan grew increasingly anxious: "I really don't have time."

"No matter what, you have to come."

I'll send you the address and time via text message.

"If you dare stand me up, I'll come to Shanghai and settle the score with you." Qianqian said before hanging up the phone.

Zhan Lan's face was pale, and her lips trembled.

Looking at her lifeless eyes in the mirror, she said painfully, "How can I face anyone at the class reunion looking like this?"

She paced anxiously around the room, then glanced at the time and let out a desperate cry like a lamb facing death: "There's no time left!"

She put aside all her thoughts, sat upright in front of the computer, and slapped herself twice.

She gritted her teeth and began typing away.

Human potential is limitless. Under the pressure of the deadline, Zhan Lan displayed unprecedented efficiency and submitted her manuscript one minute ahead of schedule.

In order to revise her manuscript, the editor didn't have time to berate her; he just threatened her a few times and then hung up the phone.

Zhan Lan let out a long sigh of relief. She slumped in the chair for a full ten minutes before she came back to life like someone on the verge of death.

But once you get past this hurdle, the next one will be just as difficult.

She felt her inspiration had dried up and she could die at any moment.

How should I write the next one?
She unconsciously refreshed and closed the desktop randomly, as if testing the computer's sensitivity.

After waiting for it to refresh again, the computer suddenly froze for a few seconds.

Zhan Lan's expression changed: "No, no way!!"

This was her most valuable possession.

Thankfully, the computer finally restored its information after about ten seconds.

Zhan Lan breathed a sigh of relief, but then her eyes widened as she saw a new document on her desktop.

When did this happen?
Zhan Lan clearly remembered that this document did not exist before the refresh.

This document appeared abruptly in the corner of the desktop.

Even if Zhan Lan's eyesight is failing, she couldn't possibly miss this.

She carefully moved the mouse over the document.

"Infinite Terror?"

She read it out slowly and deliberately, her eyes full of confusion: "What is this?"

"Could it be a virus?"

Viruses like Panda Burning Incense are all small programs, how could they be a document?
Although reason told Zhan Lan to delete the document as soon as possible, her overwhelming curiosity compelled her to double-click and open it.

Fortunately, this is not a virus.

It is a novel.

A novel that completely changed her worldview and values.

(End of this chapter)