Chapter 309 What a coincidence, me too

The nurse who drew blood left, Hu Sen pressed the needle hole on his arm and sat back by the window again.

I don’t know if it was because of the pain that stimulated my inspiration. The pen that I hadn’t dropped all morning fell onto the paper very smoothly this time.

There was a rustling sound, and occasionally there was the sound of the breeze blowing the leaves.

After the blood drawing nurse left, she should have hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door of the VIP ward. Hu Sen didn't know how long he wrote it, but no one came in to disturb him.

finally.

After venting all his inspiration, Hu Sen lay back on the backrest with satisfaction and put down the pen in his hand.

"Have you been writing for so long? My old arms and legs are really too much..."

Hu Sen, who had long lost the courage he once had, stood up, moved his shoulders, looked at the bright spring light outside the window, thought about it and put on his cloth shoes, got up and walked towards the small garden outside.

Hu Sen is seventy-five years old this year. He maintains a good mental outlook. He looks upright and energetic, but his face is a bit gloomy. It is obvious that his health is not in good condition.

In fact, Hu Sen couldn't tell whether he was sick or not.

After all, being sick is often a bad state, which makes people feel depressed, as if the sky has become a little depressed.

But for him, the disease gave him new life.

Before the age of seventy, Hu Sen was just a low-level novelist. He could only serialize some tofu novels in the corners of some periodicals and magazines. He lived in poverty and suffered from the unattainable ideals all day long.

However, after he turned seventy, Hu Sen was diagnosed with late-stage uremia.

Hu Sen was really shocked when he heard the doctor say that he was in the "late stage" at first. He felt deeply that his time was running out. At the same time, he regretted that he didn't work hard enough when he was young. Until now, he still hasn't got a good book.

Works of fiction.

But as he gradually understood his disease, he suddenly discovered that he could live for many, many years as long as he received good dialysis treatment at this 'late stage'.

The fear of death, the torment of disease on the body, and regret for not working hard enough when he was young all forced Hu Sen to start a new life.

Inspiration also started pouring out at that moment.

After turning seventy, Hu Sen wrote five books in five years, all of which became hits.

He has also gone from being an unknown tofu block writer to becoming a popular writer in the industry.

Walking in the small park, Hu Sen enjoyed the feeling of inspiration pouring out and his mind completely emptying out. The aroma of green grass mixed with earth was sent to his nose by the spring breeze, making his whole body feel refreshed.

at this time.

Hu Sen noticed a young man playing with his mobile phone on a chair in the small park.

The young man's skin was bright and white, but his face was a little gloomy. He was wearing the uniform patient uniform of Southeast Hospital. He was sitting on a chair in the corner of the small park as if there was no one else around, tapping his cell phone quickly with both hands.

This scene made Hu Sen feel familiar.

"I attended a conference before, and the organizer invited many writers from different platforms to communicate and learn together... Internet writers seem to like writing on their mobile phones, and they write very fast..."

Hu Sen felt a little curious and subconsciously walked over and sat next to the young man.

The young man was completely unaware of Hu Sen's sudden approach. His attention seemed to be completely devoted to his mobile phone, and his hands were typing on the keyboard as if they were about to spark.

At this time, Hu Sen finally saw clearly that the young man was indeed writing, but the speed of writing really made Hu Sen feel incredible.

"In this afternoon, I can finish all my work for the week..."

The two of them sat side by side in silence. Hu Sen did not disturb the other's creation, but looked curiously at the other's concentration.

Ten minutes later, the young man finally finished writing, rubbed his sore fingers, and put away his phone with relief.

"Young man, were you writing a novel online just now?"

Seeing that the other party finally stopped, Hu Sen asked with a smile.

"Huh? Bad, almost." The young man seemed a little shy and scratched his head and replied.

"We are traveling together."

"Grandpa, you also write novels online. Can you still write online articles at your young age?" the young man said in great shock.

"I don't write online, I publish it physically." Hu Sen said with a smile.

"Oh oh oh, then you are so awesome. It's so difficult to publish a physical book these days!" The young man's eyes suddenly widened and he said in admiration.

"Okay."

Hu Sen moved his position and got closer to the young man.

The career of a writer is still quite rare. Hu Sen is still very willing to chat with a young colleague in the hospital.

Moreover, Hu Sen admired the way the young man was very focused on writing just now, and it reminded him of his own state when he was young.

"What type of novel do you write?" Hu Sen asked.

"Urban harem." The young man said with a grin.

Hu Sen was stunned. It was obviously the first time he had heard of this type of thing.

"I attended a meeting before, and a representative of your online writers spoke. He said that online writing is more inclined to popular literature, and the writing style focuses on the protagonist and pursues a sense of excitement..."

"That's right! That's it!"

"Actually, I am also writing a novel during this time. I also prefer the writing technique of popular literature. The perspective is always fixed on the protagonist, but I still don't have a good idea for the final ending. Are you willing to chat with me?" Hu

Sen suddenly asked.

"Of course I do. I usually can only communicate with my colleagues online. This is the first time I meet my peers in real life!" The young man sat up straight and nodded seriously.

Hu Sen smiled. He actually didn't expect to get any useful advice from the young man in front of him, but it was indeed interesting to talk to young writers about creative matters.

"The novel I wrote mainly talks about the topic of 'heroes'. The final ending is of course that the hero defeats the evil, but the problem is that I don't know how and why the hero should die," Hu Sen said slowly.

.

"You want a hero to die?"

The young man seemed unable to understand: "Why should a hero die? If we use the writing method of Internet articles, the hero must live well in the end."

Hu Sen smiled deeply and said: "Those who are alive are not heroes. Heroes always die at the most glorious moment."

But the young man shook his head vigorously: "We are all dead, so why talk about heroes? A hero must live a good life, live a million years longer than the bad guys, and have a harem of three thousand beauties. This is enough."

Hu Sen couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth, thinking that there was indeed a big gap between physical literature and online literature.

Of course, there are different aesthetics in literature itself. Hu Sen did not think there was anything wrong with the young man's ideas. On the contrary, his favorable impression doubled because of the other party's frankness and straightforwardness.

"What's your name?" Hu Sen asked.

"My name is He Rong." The young man replied.

"Why did you come to the hospital?"

"Uraemia is an old problem. I have been on dialysis for five years." He Rong answered quite freely.

"Um?"
Chapter completed!