Rebirth and making money first

Zhang Jing took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Then she casually opened her computer screen and began to browse various news reports. As each report, some novel, some amusing, and some thought-provoking, came into view, her mood gradually calmed down. After finishing the last piece of news, Zhang Jing slowly closed her eyes, rested for a moment, and prepared to devote herself to typing.

However, at this moment, a constant stream of messages urging updates flooded in, some of them laced with ruthless abuse directed at the author. These negative messages stabbed Zhang Jing like a sharp knife, leaving her feeling deeply unhappy. "Alas! I've already accumulated a small fortune, so why do I have to work so hard to repost other people's stories? Am I really that careless? But without this passion to support me, life would be incredibly difficult," Zhang Jing sighed.

For some reason, Zhang Jing always feels more inspired at night, as if the world is enveloped in a tranquil and mysterious atmosphere. As night falls and the lights come on, her inspiration flows, and she unleashes her pen, unleashing brilliant stories.

She often imagined such a picture: a bright moon hung high outside the window, casting a cool glow like a silver plate; a cup of jasmine tea with a faint fragrance was placed on the table, steaming and full of aroma; and she was wearing a simple and elegant long dress, sitting there gracefully, freely wielding her pen to write her own legendary chapter... It's a pity that ideals are always full, but reality is often extremely cruel.

Because she's constantly busy with chores during the day, Zhang Jing often has to postpone her shower until after midnight, sometimes even skipping the time to brush her teeth before rushing into bed. Occasionally, she'll choose to wear the same clothes she wore the day before to continue the next day.

After completing each work, the next step is the tedious revision process. By the time the manuscript is finally submitted, I feel exhausted, as if all my strength has been drained away.

Zhang Jing deeply understands that dedicating oneself wholeheartedly to a task requires a tremendous amount of energy and dedication. This is especially true for those who dedicate their entire lives to writing. Not only do they have to endure irregular meals and a chaotic daily routine, but they also need to maintain a constant state of intense focus and concentration, painstakingly crafting the plot and meticulously crafting each character.

Day after day, year after year, with such a high-intensity work model, how can one effectively maintain good health? Every time Zhang Jing thinks of this, she feels a pang of fear, shaking her head repeatedly and silently reminding herself: In the future, it is imperative to balance work and rest, and never let herself fall into a state of excessive fatigue, otherwise it will inevitably have a negative impact on her health.

After all, only with a strong and sturdy body can one pursue his own beautiful dream more calmly and fully demonstrate the precious value of personal life. When he really has enough free time in the future, writing may just be a simple hobby.

At this moment, all she could do was frantically rummage through various story materials, using whatever came to mind. Of course, she'd also add some personal twists, but sometimes, if a story simply didn't satisfy Zhang Jing, she wouldn't hesitate to change the entire plot. Even if she was criticized and scolded by many readers, she didn't take it to heart.

When she gently pushed open the familiar door, a warm and peaceful atmosphere greeted her. However, what she saw was a somewhat surprising scene: her mother was sitting upright on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the TV screen, as if she was completely immersed in the plot. Even the slightest movement of Zhang Jing entering the house failed to attract her attention.

Zhang Jing couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but she quickly calmed down and decided to find a special way to attract her mother's attention. She took a deep breath, deliberately raised her voice an octave, and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Grandma, is there any food at home? I'm starving!" This sudden cry was like a thunderclap that split the sky, finally breaking the silence in the house.

My mother was obviously startled. She turned around with a look of surprise on her face. Then, she frowned, her expression becoming extremely serious. She said in a tone that was a bit reproachful, "Didn't you go to someone else's house to enjoy a sumptuous meal? What's wrong? Didn't they let you eat enough?"

Faced with her mother's questioning, Zhang Jing showed no sign of panic or embarrassment. Instead, her lips curled up slightly, revealing a playful smile as she coquettishly replied, "Oh my god, your cooking is still the most delicious! It simply blows everyone else's away! If only you could make kimchi and garlic eggplant, I wouldn't have to run around so often. Oh, and I'm going to ask my classmates for some to bring over and eat slowly on the train. Then I'll buy some big pancakes so I can eat all the way from north to south!" She then winked mischievously, seeming to be full of anticipation for this plan.

"Mom, what are you eating tonight? If there is no ready-made food at home, I can go to the restaurant and buy it for you. Is there anything you particularly want to eat? Let's buy some and try it together." Zhang Jing asked with concern.

"Oh, don't make a fuss! How much does it cost to eat in a restaurant? I have simply fried a dish and there is some left there. If you don't mind, you can eat some. By the way, there is also a steamed bun that I bought at noon." The mother replied quickly.

Zhang Jing was already starving, and upon hearing her mother's words, she rushed to find food. She quickly dug out the leftovers from the cupboard and devoured them ravenously. Before long, she had devoured all the food, but she still felt a little hungry. Seeing this, her mother immediately realized that her daughter was not full, so she suggested, "Why don't you make another cup of black sesame paste to fill your stomach?"

Zhang Jing picked up the cup and drank the black sesame paste while she couldn't help complaining, "This paste tastes so weird, I really don't like it. It feels like a lot of messy ingredients are added to it." After saying that, she frowned and showed a painful expression.

After hearing this, the mother immediately got angry and scolded: "If you don't like it, don't eat it! Look at me, since I insisted on drinking this black sesame paste every day, a lot of new black hair has grown on my head. This is a good thing to nourish the body!" As she said, the mother touched her hair proudly.

As the two bickered, Zhang Jing praised the old lady for her home-grown produce and sales, and the dishes were as simple and makeshift as ever. "Mom, you really can't think of it, you can't bear to eat it, you will definitely regret it later," the mother said, not distracted by her anger, and continued to follow the drama.

Zhang Jing once again packed her luggage overnight. She decided not to take some of her clothes because they were too big. She wrapped the gold and placed them inside her clothes. After rolling and packing them, she should have no problem getting on the bus and going through security tomorrow. Hopefully, everything goes well. Zhang Jing declined her classmates' offer to see her off, but she did ask for the kimchi and garlic eggplant she'd been craving.

At night, the mother and daughter were lying in bed. The mother asked Zhang Jing, "What else do you want to eat? Arrange it quickly." Zhang Jing said that she didn't want to eat anything. The closer it was to the time of departure, the more relaxed Zhang Jing felt.

The next morning, Zhang Jing got up early and went to buy four pancakes. They would keep her going on the train.

Zhang Jing lay in bed, listening to the train's clatter, before she finally confirmed she was on board. No one escorted her aboard, and she finally made it through security, lugging several kilograms of luggage. As soon as Zhang Jing boarded the train, she became a refined woman in the eyes of those around her.

After receiving A-Long's call, he was delighted that Zhang Jing had finally agreed to return. Zhang Jing hung up and went to sleep. She had finally escaped her hometown again. The next time she returned, it would be to help with the house purchase and renovations.