The wind is cold.

Dark clouds.

Hu Yibao sat on the bench in the square and sighed.

"I have sent out more than a dozen resumes, but none of them have been replied to."

"The manuscript fee last month was only 603 yuan and 23 yuan."

"As a matter of fact, writing novels is a dead end!"

"Why!"

"I'll buy another box of instant noodles later and hold on this month."

"After two days, I secretly gave the book and went to the construction site to move bricks."

"The Chinese New Year is coming soon, maybe there will be overtime pay for moving bricks."

“…”

The bench is not far away.

It's a TV reporter.

"Hello everyone, I'm Xiaoli."

"Two days ago, we did a data survey online, about dreams."

"The survey results show that forty-three percent of netizens want to become scientists; twenty-five percent of netizens want to become internet celebrities; twenty percent of netizens want to become public officials; twelve percent of netizens want to become teachers."

"Then next, we will randomly select several passers-by to conduct an on-site interview with this survey."

"Let's see what their dream is."

Xiaoli saw Hu Yibao and walked forward.

"Sir, I'm from the TV station. Can I interview you?"

Without giving Hu Yibao a chance to react, he directly stuck the microphone to his mouth.

The two big men carrying the camera and the lights next to him were staring at him fiercely.

Hu Yibao was stunned for a moment and nodded.

"Can!"

"Your surname?"

"I don't want to be proud, my surname is Hu."

"Mr. Hu, what is your dream?"

"Eat and wait for death, get married and have children."

"Mr. Hu, this interview. We are going to broadcast the news in the evening."

"Ahem!"

"Can you pinch that part just now?"

"Can!"

"My dream is to become a philanthropist and spread love throughout the world."

"Oh? This is a great dream!"

“So, if you have a car, will you donate?”

"Of course!"

"If society needs it, I will donate all the houses."

"If it's money, for example, one million?"

"donate!"

"Where are ten million?"

"donate!"

"Not to mention ten million, I donate all 100 million!"

"Mr. Hu, you are really a kind person."

"Thank you for the compliment!"

Hu Yibao waited for a few seconds, but Xiaoli didn't ask again.

Hu Yibao asked after looking at the camera.

"Are you okay?"

"Okay!" Xiaoli nodded.

"call!"

Hu Yibao breathed a lot of relief, and then said to Xiaoli, "I came out to buy instant noodles, so I have to go back quickly."

"Then I won't bother you, Mr. Hu." Xiaoli said.

The two big men surrounding Hu Yibao moved to the sides, leaving him a way out.

Hu Yibao left in a hurry.

Eggs are still being cooked in the rice cooker, so I have to buy the instant noodles back quickly.

Save electricity bills and save energy.

A luxury to instant noodles and eggs.

As for philanthropists.

I saw a ghost.

Dreams from childhood to adulthood are not this.

I want to be a rich man.

They eat and wait for death, get married and have children.

Travel around the world and eat delicious food.

However, my great dream has only been realized by one-eighth now.

Waiting to die...

...

The camera turned to Hu Yibao's back and recorded Xiaoli's voice-over.

"In life, Mr. Hu must be a good person who is selfless and dedicated."

“Goodness exists between ordinary people.”

"Let's cheer for this ordinary man."

"Next, let's look for the next passerby."

...

...

...

In the dimly lit room.

"Crack!"

Hu Yibao's hands were beating between the keyboards.

Text appears quickly on the computer screen.

Finally, when the number of words is frozen at 4021 words.

Hu Yibao pressed the end on the keyboard.

Check the content carefully twice.

Confirm that is correct.

Upload!

“Uploaded successfully!”

See the display of the writer's backend page.

Hu Yibao breathed a sigh of relief.

Today's serving, salted fish updated.

Finish!

Hu Yibao then habitually clicked on the data.

New yesterday: 102.

All orders: 48.

High order: 92.

A subscription earns 3 points and 5 points.

I got three yuan, six cents, seven cents, five cents yesterday.

Get a box of instant noodles.

I can eat and wait to die again.

Perfect.

"Didi!!"

Qukou chats, and a message rings.

Hu Yibao clicked on and took a look.

Today is the day when the royalties were released last month.

As before.

In the author group, the big guys are posting the manuscript fees.

“4825.35 yuan!”

"Wuwuwu! I made this little money by putting it on the shelves last month."

“28483.86 yuan!”

"Hey, the royalties for the last month were not ideal! It was only 28,000 yuan, which was the rhythm of begging for a long time."

“154854.38 yuan!”

"I made a little profit, only 150,000 yuan. I have to work hard this month. After all, the goal this year is to buy another house with full payment."

“228463.59 yuan.”

"I just picked up a car last month and it was cut off for half a month. I didn't expect there were so many more."

Seeing this, Hu Yibao couldn't help but thrust the corners of his mouth.

A bunch of old Versailles!

But I really envious.

When can I make so much money in a year?

By that time, you can achieve free instant noodles.

When eating instant noodles, I not only need to add two eggs, but also add another sausage.

More extravagant, add a bag of pickled vegetables.

Inside the author group.

Soon a big man came out to conquer the market.

“2481545.25 yuan.”

"I was lucky last month and I sold the game adaptation version."

The author group, thousands of authors, instantly turned into little fan girls.

"Awesome, 2.4 million! One house a month!"

"Boss, please give me a leg hair."

"Wuwuwu, do you lack blue friends? My first time, please be gentle!"

"Big Boss, when will we get the certificate? I have thought of the child's name."

"Wow, I can only see so much money during the Qingming Festival."

"Brother, please report a seat, I'll rush over to warm up your bed overnight."

“…”

"Big Boss, please give me a message." Hu Yibao felt a lot of emotion and sent a message.

After closing the author group, Hu Yibao returned to his writer's backstage.

Click on.

Inquiry about the royalties.

The manuscript fees for the last twelve months are arranged in order from top to bottom.

February 20: RMB 302.22.

March 20: RMB 305.33.

...

January 21: RMB 603.23.

The numbers are eye-catching.

It was reflected in Hu Yibao's pupils.

Stimulating his nerves.

The twelve months of manuscript fees add up.

Not enough for the big guys' breakfast.

"It's really a headache!"

"I can't hold on any longer!"

"It turns out that I can only rely on love to generate electricity."

Hu Yibao sat on a chair and recalled today's interview.

"I wish I could get rich overnight."

"Even if I let me experience what a billionaire feels like, that's OK!"

"bite!"

Mobile phone vibration is a text message sent by the postal bank.

Hu Yibao came to his senses, picked up his phone, and looked at it.
Chapter completed!