Chapter 6 Paradise Regained

Jun'ichi Watanabe's novels are famous for their extramarital affairs. Wang Zixu had only heard of him before. He only paid attention to the Nobel Prize in Literature. There were many areas in literature that were unfamiliar to him.

Moreover, he did not think much of writers who wrote only on this subject.

Extramarital affairs are like drugs, crime, violence, and sex in American movies. They are meant to attract attention. It's like a table full of shark fins, bird's nests, and abalone. No matter how bad the chef is, at least someone will eat the ingredients. What's the point of writing well on this topic?
But since he started this job, he bought a lot of books by Jun'ichi Watanabe. Although Jun'ichi Watanabe is such a writer, everyone can write about extramarital affairs, why is he the only one who is so popular? At least in terms of stimulating libido, he is worth learning from. Wang Zixu learned a lot from him.

Wang Zixu continued to write in the document:
My eyes moved from your crystal lips to your small toes painted with red nail polish. The instep of your foot was so white that you could see the thin blue blood vessels on it. This made me feel a little pity for you, just like the Yangshao people felt for the pottery they had just molded. This body was such a young, innocent work of art, and what I was doing was like I was going to break it.

……

"The screen is broken. I've only used it for two years." His wife showed him the phone with a frustrated look on her face. "The people at the phone store said it was leaking. We might as well buy a new one."

"Then buy it," he said, "I should have a new payment from my writings in the near future."

"How many?"

"It's hard to say, at least 600."

"600 is not enough! If you earn 6000, it would be more appropriate."

"If I write nine more, I'll have 9," he said. "It's not the amount that's important. What's important is that I got the opportunity to be serialized, and I'll always have royalties coming in from now on."

……

"Have you received your royalties?" Zuo Ziliang called him. "This is the first payment. As long as you keep writing like this, your income will increase. And you don't have to write such long articles. You know, 2000 words is enough, generally speaking."

He said honestly: If I don’t write more, I’d feel guilty about the money.

"Wow! Honest! But I like it," Zuo Ziliang said, "Keep it under 2000 words! This is the requirement, any more is a waste. You have enough energy, but they don't. This is not like writing a masterpiece."

“I wrote it as a classic.”

Zuo Ziliang ignored his stubbornness and said, "You know, your stuff has received a very good response. Almost all women laughed when they saw what you wrote about Yangshao pottery."

"Is it funny?"

"No, very good." Zuo Ziliang patted his arm. "You really opened up a new path with your spirituality. Women will be very interested in you. Your sentences are not something that can be written by an ordinary mind. Remember, women don't care about being pleased, they prefer to be conquered. Your writing can conquer them."

Zuo Ziliang understands women very well, but Wang Zixu thinks he doesn't understand literary style. Wang Zixu thinks this is not literary style, and compared to those Nobel Prize-winning writers, he is not qualified to use the word "literary style".

“I think it’s imagination, and rhetoric is a form of imagination,” he said.

Zuo Ziliang said, "Your imagination is an aphrodisiac, and it works better than real aphrodisiacs. This is the business order of our speech therapists after using your script. Take a look at the user reviews. You have no idea how much libido you have created." He clicked on the business order review page on the APP and pushed the phone to Wang Zixu. The screen showed many enthusiastic and positive reviews from users:
[This little brother is so charming! My heart was beating like crazy while chatting with him. He was so playful, handsome, and sexy! Yes, even though it was just text, I could feel that he was sexy! I couldn't help but scream the whole time! ...]

[Awesome! Although the little brother is very young, he actually! Makes me feel like an old lady like me turned into a little girl! Oh my god, he is really good at chatting...]

[This little brother has so much knowledge! It’s such a pleasure to listen to him talk! How can someone be so good at chatting! …]

[With just one sentence, he made me feel weak all over...]

Wang Zixu slowly slid the screen, as if he wanted to engrave all the messages into his memory.

He appeared calm on the outside, but his heart was surging with emotions - a few days ago, he would have never imagined that there would be a group of strange women in this world who were crazy about his writing.

Ironically, he tried countless times to prove himself to the literary world, but couldn't even please his own wife; but he accidentally got the recognition he had always dreamed of. This is even more bitter than O. Henry's comedy novels - the core of comedy is indeed a complete tragedy.

He looked up and found Zuo Ziliang looking at him strangely: "What are you laughing at?"

"I didn't? Did I smile?"

"You laughed. Check your phone for yourself."

Wang Zixu picked up the phone and turned on the front camera. In the camera, his lips were pressed into a straight line, and the corners of his mouth were tilted upwards like fishhooks, and could not be suppressed.

He smiled, and it was hideous and ugly. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have dared to imagine that he would show such a vulgar expression.

Zuo Ziliang said, "Don't be like that, it's scary. Just keep a normal attitude. It's just a few good reviews. There will be more and more in the future. I told you, I can see at a glance that you can be very popular and your writing can conquer women."

Wang Zixu stood up, said goodbye to Zuo Ziliang, and after walking out of the coffee shop, he rubbed his face frantically, trying to wipe off all traces of his smile.

"I am an author who aspires to win the Nobel Prize in Literature," Wang Zixu said to the rearview mirror in the car. "I have world-class insights. I stand at the height of humanity and understand the deepest aspects of human nature."

After saying this, he calmed down a lot, took a deep breath, and finally calmed the restlessness in his chest.

Because he has insight into human nature, he can easily exploit and play with human nature. No one understands the taste of loneliness better than him, so those users who have something to ask for have no secrets in his eyes.

This is the magic of words.

Because of this, he felt very despicable. He felt deeply despicable for his secret happiness just now.

Authors who aspire to win the Nobel Prize should not be complacent about it. This is the self-cultivation that a great writer should have.

(End of this chapter)

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