Newcomers didn't know the rules. He asked the old authors today and they all seemed to want to open a single chapter, asking for flowers and collecting them.
Below, they officially began to sell their misery, cough cough, begging for flowers and collecting them.
This year's winter was especially cold. He remembered that it was five days ago. The north wind was blowing, and the snowflakes were falling.
I held the cornbread in my hand. There was not a drop of oil in the dish.
I didn't add salt to the dish, but I still tasted the saltiness. I knew that it was my tears.
I have an 80-year-old mother and a flower shell to nourish me. I really can't hold on any longer.
I feel like I'm suffering from a jade disease.
At this moment, a voice came from the horizon.
"Go to Feilu and write novels. The readers there are very handsome and friendly.
Moreover, he's rich."
The voice was like a beam of light that pierced through the darkest sky.
I believe in light.
So, here I am.
Here, the humble author is begging for flowers, begging for collections.
I will also work hard to write.
He would strive to become a ruthless typing machine.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。