There was only 186 yuan left in the card, so I counterattacked by writing an article and directly sold millions of copyrights! Late at night, the fragrance of osmanthus drifted in from the window.
I live-streamed my sales to the public and was scolded to the point of turning off my phone.
Outside the window is the early autumn wind, and inside the house are unfinished bills.
I just want to go home, back to the Jiangnan where the courtyard is full of cinnamon in autumn.
But I don't even have money for a ticket.
Until the phone lights up:
Your novel has been approved for signing.
Eight hundred yuan is enough to buy a train ticket home.
But I didn't buy it.
I sat down and started writing.
