Knocking at the door, no one paid attention to it, Han Xuan pushed open the door and walked in.

After sleeping with Anya, she didn't make any noise at all when she slept, curled up like a kitten, quite well-behaved.

Well, it seems inappropriate to use cats as metaphor, because fat Ding is also a cat, and when he sleeps, he snores, turns around, and everything comes.

Han Xuan could tolerate these things.

What's abominable is that once it even wet the bed, which scared Han Xuan so much that he thought he was wet the bed.

Therefore, my mother laughed at him for several days, saying that he was making excuses for he wetting the bed, and he didn't believe that it was fat Ding's urine. From then on, Han Xuan only let him sleep beside the bed, unless he went to the potty first to solve his physiological problems.

I slept too late last night. Anya was probably tired. She had already gotten up at this time, but today she rarely slept in a lazy sleep.

The black vest reflects her snow-white skin. Most Western women have the trouble of being troubled by body hair, but she has not. She has reached adolescence and her skin is still extremely delicate.

Han Xuan walked to the window and opened the curtains. He could see the sparkling bay outside. The pollution was too serious. It should be the blue sea surface, which looked more gray at this moment.

A murmur sound came from behind, and when he turned around, he saw Anya's purple pupils staring at her, her eyes were out of focus, and she was not fully awake.

Han Xuan put the embarrassing incident in his heart this morning, and just thought that nothing had happened. He smiled and said to her, "Get up, get up and have breakfast."

Don’t stay up late in the future. You were almost helped by me last night and you could fall asleep while walking.”

When Anya heard Han Xuan teasing herself, she was not willing to be outdone and said in a muttering voice: "At least I didn't talk nonsense. I happened to hear it when I got up at night and poured water to drink."

Han Xuan was guilty of being a thief, and he suddenly felt numb and thought to himself, did he call Anya's name last night?

If you just call the name, it's okay, but if you say something else, for example

It feels scary even if you think about it.

These thoughts flashed through his head in an instant, and Anya smiled and said, "I'm the best in the world."

How narcissistic should be the one who says this in his dream, what did you dream of last night, Han?"

"Well, about cultivating immortals, I think this subject seems very interesting. If you write it into a novel, it would be a good idea.

There are so many magical themes that people are tired of reading. If you write some novel oriental stories, someone may like it."

"Most Westerners don't know the ancient legends and cultures of the East. Are you sure that anyone will read such a book?"

Anya sat down beside the bed, stood up and stretched her waist, her concave and convex figure clearly revealed.

After seeing this, Han Xuan blamed some of the different thoughts in his head for the excessive secretion of hormones in his body during adolescence, which affected his thinking and judgment ability, and replied: "I don't make money by writing books. I am purely out of interest and use it to pass the time when I have nothing to do.

How miserable is a professional writer. Look at Stephen King, the last time he was recognized on the road, the other party urged him to write quickly.

He told that the inspiration was exhausted recently and that the next book might be postponed when it was released. He was inexplicably hit by a bat by a book fan and was sent to the hospital for two days and was still unconscious. The back of his head was sewn with seven stitches.

There is also the Japanese mystery novelist Keigo Higashino. Book fans sent him knives and bullets. Once at a party, he told me that his family would never lack fruit knives. In the past few years, he received three boxes of knives, just to threaten him to write a book quickly.

The worst thing is Mr. Junichi Watanabe. His private editor was driven crazy by the publishing house. The madman locked Mr. Junichi Watanabe in his room and only gave him paper and pen.

The poor old man in his sixties has to write 10,000 words every day to get stuttering and water, and he doesn't even give him a toilet.

After being locked up for a week, his daughter, who came back from a trip, found out that her father was missing. Finally, she called the police. The day the police found him, the old man cried so hard that he vowed not to write a book.

Book fans urged me to write "Harry Potter", "Pirates" and so on as soon as possible. I don't want to become that way, but fortunately there are many bodyguards around me.

As for whether there is a market after writing it, it is hard to say in the West, but there should be many people like it here in Asia.

The sales volume in European and American countries will definitely be worse than the previous books, but it will not be much worse..."

This is not Han Xuan’s imagination. In his previous life, he saw a novel about an American fantasy writer whose pen name is "Chen" in the news. He translated it in English as soon as it was updated, so he felt that the sales volume would not be too bad.

...

After breakfast, the whole family went out shopping together and visited the unique customs and culture of Aomen.

After several centuries of changes, East and West cultures have been gathered and exchanged in Aomen for a long time, leaving many unique traces.

It's really small and you don't have to take a bus when you go out. Han Xuan planned to play during the day and go to participate in the Lisboa gambling game at night. He had already responded to the casino manager in the morning, saying that he would participate.

Walking along the road northwest, you can see a pawnshop. Whenever night comes, you will see gamblers who are frightened here, mortgage their valuable items to exchange for money to continue gambling. The pawnshop owner actually drove a Ferrari sports car, and it seems that the business should be very prosperous.

There are many motorcycles parked on the side of the road, and there are also many on the road. Because of the narrow area, people usually travel, usually just ride small motorcycles. Anyway, it is very convenient to go anywhere and it doesn’t take much time.

Passing by Friendship Square and Aomen Square, we come to the near town hall.

After only a little distance, Fat Ding was so tired that he let Secretary Dawson hold him out of breath.

European cities always have a small square in front of a city hall, parliament or cathedral, which together with surrounding Gothic, or Romanesque, Baroque buildings form the central area of ​​the city.

Aomen was once the destination for the Portuguese to trade in the East, and urban planning was naturally in line with Europe.

The rising sun is blazing, and it feels a bit like the Mediterranean summer. In front of the specialty store, a long corridor extends to the end of the road, blocking the sunshine for Han Xuan and the others.

For the mainland, the European buildings here are quite interesting, but in Guo Muzhou, who has lived in European and American countries for a long time, the local buildings are actually not good-looking, the economy is not as developed as it will in the future, and the buildings with a long history are slightly dilapidated. In comparison, the Lisboa Hotel is more like the city center.

There are many snacks in Xiangjiang, and there are also many. After having breakfast just now, Han Xuan was attracted by the fragrance and went to buy a few pork chop buns.

The pork chop bread looks like a hamburger, but it is a bit different, with a piece of pork chop in the middle of the bread.

Fat Ding was very envious. He took a few deep breaths and smelled the smell, and his saliva was flowing out...
Chapter completed!