"Su Wan, the data in your book "The Domineering President Falls in Love with Me 22" are so bad that you can feed a dog!"
From the handset of the mobile phone, the editor Sister Zhang roared like a landslide. The sound was so sharp that it seemed to penetrate the eardrums, piercing Su Wan's cerebral cortex, causing her temples to throb.
She subconsciously held the phone further away, and she could feel the soaring heat from half a meter away.
"Sister Zhang, readers' tastes have changed now, and they don't like pure love little white flowers..." Su Wan tried to explain, her voice was dry, as if she had been walking in the desert for three days and nights.
"Don't make excuses with me! Who among the top authors at the same time are not increasing their collections and subscriptions? You are still struggling at the bottom! Look for yourself what you wrote? Car accidents, amnesia, running with the ball, these routines are outdated even my grandma! If you can't write hits again, you won't be able to get perfect attendance next month!"
