The white rose I picked up cried and said she liked me.

The author is currently at the airport entrance; the wind is strong, and the mind is in turmoil.

The cause of the matter is this.

I haven't been back to my hometown city for many years. This year, I happen to be spending the Spring Festival here, so of course I'll go back to my hometown village to spend time with my elders.

To be honest, when I was a kid, I always wanted to go back to my hometown to play, because I didn't have to do homework there, and I could secretly steal my parents' phones to play (not really).

But as I grew up, I really didn't want to go back to my hometown.

I can't eat well (no takeout), I can't sleep well (sheep bleat at midnight, roosters crow at dawn, and people shout during the day), and I can't wash well (the village water pump is broken, there is no water at home, and I have to go outside to fetch water. Taking a bath is a luxury. For someone like me who is a clean freak, not taking a bath to sleep is like sleeping without a pillow or eating without chopsticks).

More importantly, there's a whole bunch of relatives' kids—they're practically monsters!

A spoiled little devil (the kid who appeared in my comments at the end of chapters 92 and 93) who is currently in the third grade, is always clamoring for his mother's phone to play with, and he cries and throws a tantrum if she doesn't let him play.

The noise could be heard right at the village entrance.

This is not the most critical.

Most importantly, he saw that I had a laptop (I had to bring it to write), so he concluded that my cousin must be a severe internet addict like him.

So he would often hover around me, wiping his snotty hands on my keyboard with his bare hands, and asking me with a smirk.

Do you play ******** (a certain game)?

As he spoke, his spittle flew onto my computer screen.

Me: "I'm not playing." (Cool voice, and I gave him a disdainful push, trying to get him to leave.)

Little Demon Ball: "So what games do you play?"

Me: "(Watching his dirty hands groping on my keyboard, my mental defenses were about to collapse) I'm not playing anything."

It's not appropriate to say it openly because it's a relative's house. After all, my parents went to work in another city a long time ago, and we don't have a house in the village. When we returned to the village, we lived in his parents' house, which meant we were living under their roof.

Moreover, his parents were very kind to me. Knowing that I was coming back, they, being fastidious, spent half a month cleaning and preparing a clean room for me to live in.

They are usually very busy with work and neglect to discipline their children, which is why they turned out like this.

Little Magic Ball didn't believe me, and used her other hand, which was covered in oil from eating snacks, to control my mouse and search on my computer desktop.

Fortunately, I had anticipated this situation and deleted my writer's assistant and all the shortcuts to visual novels.

The desktop is clean and tidy, with only a browser, a recycle bin, and some office software left over from my previous work.

After a while, he said disappointedly.

"If you don't play any games, what do you need a computer for?"

I smiled but didn't say anything, though inside I was devastated.

Damn it... my computer... is dirty...

My indifferent attitude seemed to have bored him a little.

He grabbed his mother's phone and left my side.

Brushes, towels, wet wipes, and a shaft puller were all used.

I sat at the table, removed the keycaps one by one, pulled out the switches one by one, and cleaned my keyboard thoroughly, inside and out.

Then I went to the kitchen, used a wet wipe with some dish soap to wipe the mouse up and down.

Seeing that tiny bit of food crumb seeping into the gap between the mouse side buttons, my blood pressure spiked.

A tissue can't be inserted, and a toothpick can't pick it out either.

Despair.jpg

I have some basic knowledge of computer repair, so I should be able to disassemble the mouse, remove the side buttons, and clean up the food residue.

However... my mouse is still under warranty (a big brand mouse, the feel is great, but the quality control is terrible, I've already replaced it twice, and I'm prepared for it to break down after the warranty expires). If I disassemble it myself, I'll void the warranty and have to bear the consequences myself.

After hesitating for two and a half minutes, I made my decision.

拆!

After searching online for mouse removal tutorials and fiddling around for two and a half hours, I finally managed to get that piece of debris out (laughs).

After I put it back, I was surprised to find...

That side button is malfunctioning!

Live with a smile.jpg

After disassembling and reassembling it again, and fiddling with it for two and a half hours, I finally got around to it.

Still not working...

At this moment, looking at the tamper sticker I had punctured, I felt like a million grass mud horses were galloping through my mind.

Garlic Bird, I'll contact after-sales service after the New Year to see if I can get it repaired for a fee (crying).

Actually, it's fine not to fix it, since you don't need mouse side buttons when playing visual novels...

So, after calming myself down a bit, I sat down at my computer and started my writing task for the day.

Before I had even written 500 words (a quarter of a chapter), my other cousin (a first-year high school student) came to my room for refuge, probably because he was annoyed by the little devil.

He sat next to me, quietly scrolling through his phone.

I thought this was a peaceful and harmonious situation where everyone would mind their own business.

As a result, not long after, he probably felt that he hadn't seen me, his cousin, for a long time and wanted to get back to know me.

So he moved closer to me, wanting to see what I was doing on the computer.

I immediately pressed Alt+Tab to switch the Writer Assistant app on my desktop to the background.

After all, news travels incredibly fast in the village. If my relatives find out that I'm writing about Liu Bei online, all I need to do is immediately move to another planet.

Even my parents don't know that I write online novels.

My mother is extremely traditional. In her eyes, reading novels is a waste of time, and writing novels is a way of harming other people's children.

If she finds out that I wrote an online novel, and it's about Liu Bei, I estimate I'll receive a notice of disownment.

He chuckled when he saw the blank browser homepage on my computer screen.

"Hey bro, can I see your browser history?"

Me: "Dame."

It's definitely not because of any lewd websites; I'm a decent person (they're all in my phone's private space, not really). It's because my browser history is entirely in the Tomato Writers' Zone backend.

You know, my cousin had a nickname when he was a child: "The 100,000 Whys".

Why is the sun round? Why are the stars bright? Why can birds fly? Why can fish survive in water?

If he sees the author's backstage, my head will be filled with a hundred thousand whys.

Upon hearing my words, he gave me a knowing look.

"Dude, you know how men are, nine out of ten are, and the tenth one will deny it to the death."

I was on the verge of tears: "Ah, yes, yes, yes."

He said, "So, how about we switch? You have one, I have one, and if we switch, we'll each have two."

Me: "Forget it."

My cousin's clever mind suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

My cousin must be shy!

So, he got all stubborn and stopped using his phone. He just stayed next to me, staring at the blank browser screen with me.

As darkness fell, I still hadn't managed to finish two chapters for today, and I was already drenched in sweat.

After all, I type very slowly, unlike the 10,000-word-per-day monster who takes an average of three or four hours to produce a chapter, and six to eight hours to produce two chapters a day.

The price of staying up all night writing is that the next day a group of relatives sit in my room eating sunflower seeds, subtly criticizing me for staying in bed.

So, I came up with a solution.

I took out my phone and set an alarm for one minute later.

Sixty seconds later, the alarm clock rang precisely on time.

I answered the alarm: "Feed? Auntie, yes, it's with me. Okay, I got it."

I put down my phone and said solemnly to my cousin.

"Your mom is calling you home for dinner."

His home is in another village. By the time he walks back, even if he finds out he's been tricked, he probably won't bother coming back.

He naively gave an "oh" and left dejectedly.

He was completely unaware of why he also had a cell phone or why his mother didn't call him.

I breathed a sigh of relief, stretched, and finally began today's writing task.

Just as I drove onto the highway and was extremely focused,

A soft cough sounded behind me.

My blood ran cold at that moment.

I saw my cousin (a 7 out of 10 in looks, fair-skinned, a sweet girl type, the kind who would be considered the village beauty in the village, two years younger than me, who used to follow me around when we were little, doing whatever I asked, and a little crybaby when she was bullied) standing behind me, looking at me with a shocked expression.

"Holy crap, are you a cat?! Why do you walk so silently?"

I took two steps back, closed the laptop lid, and my heart was pounding.

I am praying in my heart.

Oh my god, please, please don't see this, please don't see this!

However, her next sentence completely extinguished my anxiety.

"Brother, are you... writing imperial script?"

After struggling internally for two and a half seconds, I decided to defend myself.

"No, no, it's just that I have a friend who writes romance novels on Tomato. Recently, he got to a part that's going to be pretty fast-paced, and he sent me the draft he just finished writing, wanting me to review it and see if it would interest me or if I could offer some suggestions."

Honestly, it took me two and a half seconds to come up with this explanation; my brain must be overloaded.

She gave a half-believing "oh," took out her phone, and started searching on Tomato.

I was quite smug at the time. Even if you saw that I was writing about Liu Bei, you wouldn't know the title of my book.

After all, the book title I drafted on the Writer Assistant was the lyrics to a song. After I finished writing it, I copied and pasted it into the Tomato Writer backend to publish it.

After a while, my cousin's eyes suddenly widened.

She covered her mouth and handed the phone to me.

Her search bar clearly showed the two characters "Xu Xi".

The first result in the search results.

"The failure to raise a sister resulted in a sister who is obsessed with her brother."

(The original title was "The White Rose I Picked Up Cried and Said She Liked Me." The title was changed after about 45 words. Previous readers will be displayed with the original title.)

And the author's pen name: "Spiritual Mind".

My online name... sounds almost the same as "soul".

My cousin... knows my online name.

The atmosphere froze for a moment.

I almost fainted.

Hey Tomato... why are you able to search for books using the protagonist's name?

"No, buddy!"

She spoke in a trembling voice.

"You...you're using my imagination? Writing a siscon story?"

(I only have one sister, no other cousins ​​or other female relatives.)

Let me state upfront that I have absolutely no ulterior motives towards my cousin.

The sister in my imagination and the sister in real life are two different beings, okay.

My cousin always asks me to give her gold coins during holidays and special occasions.

even...

A while ago, she was selling data SIM cards through China Unicom and even tried to trick me into buying a few to help her boost her sales figures!

I wish my cousin would get married soon so she could ruin someone else's boyfriend.

"No, Ah Jing (my cousin), let me explain!"

I quickly grabbed her.

"Explain your sister!"

She broke free from me and ran downstairs.

"Second Aunt! (My mom)..."

What will happen next, I don't know.

Because I grabbed my laptop and ran away before her voice disappeared.

She was even wearing slippers...

That's all for now, guys. My toes are freezing. We're about to board the plane. That's all for now.

Just take a look, everyone, and please don't spread this embarrassing story around... I still want to live with a smile...

Please allow me some time to rest; I'll take a day off tomorrow.

......