It was already very late when I got home. My mother saw that I looked bad and thought something had happened to me. I didn’t bother to explain. I just said that I was too tired, so I shut myself in the room alone and thought quietly.

Everything that happened to me today seemed to be unexplainable.

I don’t know how I fell asleep. At noon the next day, I was woken up by a cell phone ringing with another unfamiliar number. My heart started to pick up involuntarily. I answered the phone and asked cautiously: "Who are you?"

?”

Fortunately, this time it was not that old woman's voice. The voice on the phone was clear and sweet. It should be a young woman. As soon as she heard me speak, she immediately said: "Mr. Mao, the novel you wrote is so great."

Well, even when I was reading it during the day, I was so shocked that I broke into a cold sweat. Our magazine has decided to publish your novel as a key recommendation. I hope you can contribute to us again." Having said this, he paused and continued:

"If you only provide us with manuscripts, you can get a discount on the manuscript fee."

I wondered if I heard it wrong, because I haven’t submitted an article for a long time. I only published a few articles about dried tofu. I was even ridiculed as an "amateur seller of dried tofu" once. I was about to say something.

The other party made a mistake, and suddenly his heart moved, remembering the text message from the Dream Club: "As you wish."

Will this be what I want?

I coughed a few times and said that I had been writing too much recently and my mind was a little confused. I couldn’t remember which magazine the other party belonged to. The pleasant voice immediately called out a name. It was a very famous magazine. I used to

I once submitted an article to them, but of course in the end I couldn't even sell the dried tofu. I hesitated a few times and said that I found some minor flaws in the article and needed to correct it, but my computer's hard drive was broken and I didn't leave any information.

, could you please trouble her to re-send this novel to me, and then I will promptly report my email address.

The other party agreed without hesitation. I quickly got up and turned on the computer. There was a new email. Needless to say, it should be the novel. I felt that my palms were sweating. After downloading the attachment, I carefully clicked on it with the mouse. After reading it,

I sat in my chair and couldn't say a word, because this was a story that I was very familiar with, and the prototypes in it were all familiar to me.

The name of this novel is "Blue Brick". Xiaorui once asked me to write a novel using these existing materials at Erliang's house. She had already helped me think of the plot at that time, because many things happened one after another.

I have never had the experience or thought to write a novel, but I didn’t expect that after many days, someone actually submitted this article to a magazine in my name.

This person must be Xiaorui, because she came up with this story. I immediately took out my mobile phone and called, but it still rang and no one answered. I called again and it was still the same. I don’t know why Xiaorui didn’t answer me.

I called her, but I knew that at least she was fine and she still cared about me. Maybe she wanted to use this method to motivate me.

At this moment, a text message came. I opened it quickly, but it was not from Xiaorui, but from the mysterious number of the Dream Club: "Your ideal has taken the first step."

I replied: "I didn't write this, where is Xiaorui?" I could tell from the other person's tone that they should have done this, but Xiaorui had clearly come up with this story for me. How could they?

Do you know? So I immediately thought about whether Xiaorui was with them, or, there was a vague thought in my heart that I didn't dare to think about: Could Xiaorui be a member of the club?

The other party replied: "Without you, this story would not exist. You wrote it in another way. Congratulations."

If you look at it from another perspective, it is true that these materials would not have been found without me, but the other party's refusal to tell me about Xiaorui always made me feel a little worried. I sent text messages again, but the other party refused to reply again.

I had no choice but to give up the idea of ​​getting news about Xiaorui from her.

The issue of the magazine came out in a few days. When the original story was sent, it had already passed the deadline for the month, but because it was so exciting, the editor asked to work overtime immediately to change the layout, and finally it came out in time for this issue.

I want to meet you all, and the magazine also paid me the manuscript fee in advance. The only request is that I hope I can write another equally wonderful article.

That was 5,000 yuan in royalties, which I couldn't imagine before. My mother was so happy that she kissed me hard on the face and said that I finally got through it. Although my father didn't say anything, he always looked at people.

With a smile on his face, he said, "My son has started making money by writing novels." But only I knew that this was not written by me.

When the next month's issue comes out, there will be another novel written by "me". This time it is about a pervert who has been raping women for pleasure and was finally killed by a ghost. Although the plot is very cliché, it is

The best thing is that the atmosphere is extremely weird and terrifying. This time it is 4,000 yuan for the manuscript. My parents are even more happy, but my heart is getting more and more scared, because I suddenly thought that Sun Xiaohong wrote the story for Wang Qiang like this in the beginning.

.

More than two months passed in fear, but fortunately nothing happened, and the novel signed by Mao Rui was sent to the magazine on time. From the magazine's investigation, I know that now I have almost become the leader of the new generation of horror novels.

Spokesperson, everyone who reads "my" novels has only one feeling: reality. It is precisely because of this immersion that they fall madly in love with those stories. I don't think anything happened in the past two months, although

I still couldn't contact Xiaorui, but I gradually relaxed, because although these novels were not actually written by me, I did learn a lot from them. Of course, I got more money and those fanatical people.

look.

I tried to find out from the magazine how the other party contacted them, but the answer disappointed me. The other party just sent the manuscript to the magazine through an email address, leaving my phone number and name, and nothing else.

I couldn't ask, and the editor even asked me strangely why I used a different email address. Under his curious eyes, I felt guilty and gave up the idea of ​​continuing to investigate.

Fortunately, the editor-in-chief didn’t have the habit of getting to the bottom of things, and I gradually got used to this kind of life of getting something for nothing. At this moment, the editor-in-chief suddenly called me. He said that the deadline was almost approaching, so why was my new novel still missing?

Not written well?

I was stunned for a moment: How come no one continues to write novels in my name? But I didn’t dare to say this out loud, so I hurriedly found an excuse to excuse myself, saying that the manuscript would be delivered in a few days. I hung up the phone and sat down.

In front of the computer, but looking at the blank screen, I found that I couldn't write a word.

What happened to the person who wrote the novel for me? Why didn't he write it anymore?! I threw a cup on the ground, but it didn't help. I could break a cup, but I couldn't write a good novel.

My mother heard the movement in the room and came over worriedly and asked me what was wrong. I waved my hand and pushed her out of the room. At this moment, the phone rang again. I opened the text message and it was the number of the Dream Club.

In the past two months, I have not contacted this number, and the other party has not contacted me. Although I still miss Xiaorui in my heart, and I try to write a novel that is truly my own, but every time I give up halfway because

I can't find that feeling in those "my" articles that have been published.

The content of the text message this time was very simple, just a few words: "From now on, you have to rely on yourself."

For me, this was undoubtedly a life-saving straw. It showed that these articles were really written for me by the Dream Club. I immediately replied: "I don't know how to do it."

The other party came back with a sentence that I had heard more than once a long time ago but had almost been forgotten: "Remember this feeling."

This is what Xiaorui said to me. In an instant, many things she said came to mind. Just when I was feeling emotional, the text message came again, with the same number. She said: "Because it is true, it is true."

This sounds like nonsense, but I understand it. That is to say, those published stories are actually true? Thinking of the plots in those novels, I couldn't help shuddering and texting again.

In the past, the other party never responded to me.

Just when I was in a daze, someone knocked on my door gently. Then my mother gently opened the door and walked in. She held a small box in her hand and said, "It's strange. Someone knocked on the door just now."

It was delivered here and said it was for you. I asked her to come in and sit down, but she refused and wouldn't let me call you."

I asked, "What does this person look like?"

Mom said: "It's wrapped up so tightly that I can't see clearly, but the voice should be that of a young girl. Ari, tell me honestly, have you done anything to offend this girl outside?"

My heart suddenly sank, because such a person once sent a letter to Wang Qiang. I hurriedly pushed my nagging mother out of the room, and then carefully opened the box. Inside was a small black coffin with an inscription on it.

With strange little patterns, the look of this coffin is very familiar to me. It is the old black house in the old house in the mountains.

After hesitating for a long time, I finally carefully opened the small coffin. There were two pieces of paper inside. I opened it. The first one said: "Use their secrets to write the real story."

It's not something scary as I imagined, it's just such a simple sentence. I'm even a little confused. I don't know what the purpose of such a sentence is. Needless to say, this must be given to me by the Dream Club. I don't have time to think so much.

Continue to look at the second piece of paper. The words on it are very small. It records that a person did some unknown things. I don’t know who this person is, but if I really process these things about him as material, it will really

can write a good article.

There was no time left, and there was really no harm in me thinking about it, so I followed the prompts on the paper and started planning my first novel after I stopped writing. It took me until the early hours of the morning to finally finish it, but I felt

This is the most satisfying article I have written in so many years.

I immediately sent it to the magazine, and then went to bed. I had an unusually sweet sleep until I was woken up by the editor's phone call. He said: "Xiao Mao, that's right. There are many novels about crime and murder. One like yours is the best."

There are very few, it’s very good, keep writing more.”

My sleepiness completely disappeared. Although this was material provided by others, I thought up every word by myself. I thought Xiaorui would like it if she saw it. I took out my phone and sent her a text message. Unfortunately,

She has not replied to me for such a long time, but to my surprise, a text message came back very quickly this time. It was from Xiaorui. I was so surprised that I opened it and she said: "I know."

You can do better."

I called, but the other party didn't answer. I think Xiaorui was still angry with me, so I reluctantly gave up the idea of ​​hearing her voice and continued to send text messages, but she never responded to me.

Use their secrets to write real stories. This is the most reasonable sentence I have ever heard. But I really don’t know where I can find out so many secrets. Maybe, I can ask my second aunt and my mother to help.

, their women always like to ask questions here and there. When I told my mother my idea, she naturally had no problem and agreed immediately. Even my father said he would help me look for information everywhere.

It's a pity that my mother was busy for several days and got all the things that were of no use to me. Just when I was annoyed, my father came in with a bag and said that it was filled with treasures he got from a friend. This

My friend likes to read detective novels the most, so he usually pays special attention to collecting some crime cases published in newspapers. These are his collections in the past twenty years.

I am overjoyed. Nowadays, there are indeed many people looking for inspiration from some crime cases that have occurred. If I want to be different, then of course it is best to find some cases that ordinary people cannot see. The collection of these nearly twenty years is no different.

Knowing how many good novels I could write, I couldn't wait to grab it and hide in my room to start researching.

I have to say that these materials really took my dad and my friend a lot of thought. Not only did they cut them out, but they also classified them into categories. I flipped through them casually, and many of the cases gave me some inspiration. It seemed like I had gained a lot this time.

It’s not too small, I thought with a smile while flipping through it.

At this moment, my eyes were suddenly attracted by a report. This report said that the son of a family was pushed downstairs and fell to death, and then the daughter was hanged from the ceiling. The method of the deceased was extremely extreme.

It was cruel. Not only did he kill the child, but he also gouged out the girl's eyes. I looked at the time and saw that it was twenty years ago. There was also a photo attached to the newspaper, which it said was of the deceased.

When I looked at this photo, my pores immediately stood up, and I broke out in a cold sweat all over my back, because I had seen this photo before. It was a photo of Xiaorui when she was a child, wearing a black nightgown and a shawl.

Long hair.
Chapter completed!