My Writer is Too Forgetful
by Li Wangshui
About This Novel
Li Ruoqing, who had just closed QQ and was about to lock herself in a dark room to catch up on manuscripts, received a call from editor Zhou Mubai. Wasn't he asleep? She answered the phone with some confusion. Zhou Mubai's voice, which was several times higher than usual, sounded particularly sinister in the quiet night: "Li Ruoqing! When will you be able to cure your forgetfulness?! I have answered you no repeatedly to the same question. Why can't you remember it three times? What are you thinking about?" Li Ruoqing held up the phone for a long time before saying, "Oh, it turns out the manuscript has been scheduled." There was a muffled sound on the other end of the phone, and it sounded like someone fell off the chair. "It's done, I'm relieved. Thank you, editor Zhou." Li Ruoqing smiled sincerely at the phone, even though Zhou Mubai, who was about to vomit blood at the moment, couldn't see it. In view of her good attitude, Zhou Mubai responded gruffly, accepting her thanks.
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