Hunan Province, Orange Island.

In a corner of the city that has been almost forgotten by the world, low stilts are densely packed and row upon row. At a glance, the area is dark and dark, giving people a dull and depressing feeling.

Even the most glamorous city can't conceal the dilapidation in every corner. And this is the gathering place of the mess in Orange Island, where countless dirty and dilapidated things breed and grow.

"Sell tofu noodle, sell tofu noodle..."

A burst of dilapidated trumpet sound suddenly sounded, the sound was loud and quiet, and the sound was intermittently like the battery was low. However, it was still there roaring hard, "Five yuan a bowl, five yuan a bowl..."

This is somewhat similar to a scene in a horror novel, with a hint of spookiness. People passing by felt a chill when they heard it, and then they quickly walked away and left without looking back... They didn't dare to stay for a moment.

"Sell...brain...for five yuan..."

The sound of the trumpet became more and more intermittent, and through the lingering rain in early spring, it became more and more terrifying.

"Bang!"

There was a sound of a heavy object falling to the ground, and several broken parts rolled out of the dark alley with a clanking sound... Judging from their appearance, they were obviously some parts of the speaker.

"You're so arrogant, and you even said you sold me a better speaker, but I didn't expect it to be this kind of discarded product that has been through many hands. If it delays my business, don't you think I will fight with you!"

There was a burst of manic cursing, and a man wearing a bib slowly walked out of the dark alley.

Judging from his outfit...it seems like he is a cook?

He seemed unable to adapt to the sudden brightness. He squinted his eyes and blocked the light with his hands, and then started to curse again, "Why does it keep raining like this?"

It rains a lot in Hunan Province, and it rains continuously for a long time. This time alone, it has been raining continuously for more than half a month.

The weather is also sticky, which makes people feel uncomfortable for no reason.

"Damn it!" I saw the man kicking the broken speaker parts around hard and cursed secretly.

"In your heart... fly freely..."

In the quiet alley, a series of low-quality cell phone ringtones suddenly rang. The man's eyes suddenly lit up and he quickly started groping for himself.

"It's not...it's not...it's happening!"

I don’t know how many mobile phones were hidden on that man’s body. After groping for a long time, he found the ringing mobile phone on his body... At first glance, wow, it’s an international brand, a Nokia like a brick!

"Um...hum..." The man quickly calmed down, cleared his throat, and then pressed the connect button.

"Hello...Editor Liu, hello, hello...it's me, Xiaozhuo..."

"By the way, have you read the manuscript I sent you? I spent a lot of time preparing the materials this time... and the results will definitely be much better than the previous one..."

"What? Ten yuan for a thousand words? You also know that I am a somewhat famous writer... Is this price too low?"

"What? Only that many? I'll... think about it again!"

Zhuo Jiu hung up the phone helplessly and sighed, "This old bastard is clearly trying to lower my price!"

Zhuo Jiu, whose pen name is Zhuojiu.

He is an unknown writer who circulates on major online platforms. Because the novels he writes are basically based on the identity of a chef, he also has a nickname in the online literary world, called Chef.

Of course, it's not just about writing novels. Since his writing skills are pretty good, he also worked as a hotshot when he was poor. In short, he would do anything to make money, except for those illegal things like murder and arson.

As for his true identity, he is actually a cook, at least, that's what he thinks. Of course, he is not one of those chefs who works in the back kitchen of a hotel, he is just... the owner of a roadside stall selling tofu curd.

Although he kept cursing, he still returned to the stall obediently and sat there in shock.

This is just a simple trolley made of various old wooden sticks. At the bottom of the trolley, there are a series of things such as gas tanks and pots and pans. The top of the trolley is also made of wooden sticks.

A simple shelf with pickled mustard, chives and various seasonings placed on it. The overall look is a bit like the wonton baskets we usually see...

Of course, the mobility should be much better. This way, even if you encounter the urban management, you will have a greater chance of escaping.

Next to the trolley, there is a banner with black and white writing on it, which reads "Tofu brain, five bowls per bowl."

I don’t know whether he deliberately made a mistake or simply didn’t notice that he made a mistake. In short, it is such a simple cart that forms the main means of making a living for the famous online Maojiu Da.

Of course, as mentioned before, his means of making a living are not limited to this cart.

Fifteen yuan per thousand words was the price Zongheng gave him for his last book. Based on his daily code volume of about 3,000 words, he could pass this and get 45 yuan in one day. In a month, it would be 1,350 yuan...plus perfect attendance.

As for the prize, he can get about 1,650 yuan a month through code words.

Still before tax.

Next to the cart, there is a canvas full of holes, which is filled with various plates of shiny bracelets, but...it looks a little bit inferior.

This is another hobby of Zhuo Jiu, playing skewers and, of course, selling them.

His monthly income, except for basic living expenses, is basically thrown into this hobby. However, the revenue... is almost zero, and he knows it himself, but he just doesn't want to mention it.

It is the above three livelihoods that constitute the entirety of his life.

But if he had to rank these businesses...writing books would always be his first priority, followed by skewers, and finally selling tofu.

However, in a place where the flow of people is extremely limited and it is always dark, a cart selling tofu bread and a stall selling skewers appear for no reason. Anyone who sees it will probably feel scared. Therefore, his

Business is never very good...or, no business at all!

However, being optimistic by nature, he didn't care much. After all, not having a business meant that he could write about what he liked more freely. Sometimes, he even wished he had no business, so that no one would bother him.

His creation.

Zhuo Jiuda has been a little embarrassed recently. After the previous book was forced to end due to various reasons, his only reliable monthly income was gone.

I contacted the editors of several websites, but because of their previous misdeeds, they didn’t give me a good guarantee.

Some even just wanted to sign a share with him... This made Dojiu, who was known as the guaranteed killer, very unhappy, but he had nothing to do.

"We can only wait for the reply from Chicheng Chinese website. I hope he can give a better price. Otherwise, we will have to accept Zongheng's quotation first." The cook sighed helplessly.

The heavy rain in Orange Island was still pounding, and the cook sighed, helplessly opened his voice, and shouted.
Chapter completed!