bedroom literature

Jiang Qiwen and Liu Sheng exchanged a look.

Liu Sheng's eyes were full of surprise, and there seemed to be an extremely complicated emotion.

Jiang Qiwen used his sixth sense to supplement what he had just learned, and he always felt that it was a kind of panic to break a secret—but this was really nonsensical, when he saw his Weibo profile picture on his mobile phone just now, he looked quite at ease.

He couldn't figure it out, but he hoped he was sensitive.

Liu Sheng took his manuscript and looked at it for a while, and finally returned it, giving him a blank comment.

After class, before Jiang Qiwen could say anything, Liu Sheng went out, his footsteps hurried as if he wanted to escape from something.

Jiang Qiwen had been back to the dormitory for a long time, it was night, and he couldn't wait to start wandering around the square, looking for the whole story.

"Oh, oh, I know that your Mrs. Turong is just 18 years old this year. What's the matter, you can deceive people at a young age? This doesn't mean that he will repent in the future, it means that he has been rotten since he was a child."

"When it became popular, I thought it was marketing. You can buy reposts from well-known bloggers, which is awesome."

"This can also praise writing skills. Are people now so low in writing skills?"

The emptiness of reality is the source of cyber attacks, and lawlessness is the cloak of anonymity.

The law is the bottom line of morality, and morality is the shackles of society. Without absolutely noble people, no one can live an absolutely comfortable life. One discomfort after another constitutes the dark side of human beings.Conventional things are the most fragile: such as the sudden urge to urinate in the shower, looking at meat that no one has dropped on the table, learning to show others in the study room, indulgence when no one is around...

So which one is the real you, the you under the eyes of others, or the you when you are alone?

Some people say that those so-called "keyboard warriors" must be depressed people in reality, so they take revenge on the Internet;

Some people get pleasure by enriching their lives, while others realize value by adding obstacles to others.People have their own aspirations, and they are so pitiful.

The more he read, the angrier he became, but he couldn't stop. He just read a few times like this, and finally clicked on a few excerpts in the article that were criticized.

There are also fair reviews.

"It's that pleasure curve that insults mathematics. How can it be a straight linear function? As a girl, I know that there must be small peaks in hand punching. In fact, there are many small parabolas interspersed in the linear function, and finally it is a straight line... No wonder it has been Stream of consciousness write h?"

Jiang Qiwen: ...

There is some truth to it.

But isn't this too strict... It's okay to say that the author made mistakes?

"Let me be fair, the emotional analysis is very delicate. This paragraph is also the analysis of the value of the brother desperately. I feel that the chance of writing it by hand is not high, but the author really doesn't understand."

"This is actually nothing, but I am really convinced by the description of that. It is said that a certain white turbid liquid touch Q bomb is like jelly... I reasonably suspect that this is a little girl who has never been on a p station. I have never eaten pork, and I have never seen a pig run."

Jiang Qiwen was taken aback.

This……

This description is indeed... I almost began to wonder if he was a big man in men's clothing.

Don't think about it!The small tent that day was not fabricated out of thin air, right?

and many more.

Although it was not fabricated out of thin air...but it disappeared out of thin air.

He seemed to know why he was ignorant of common sense.

This……

This……

...He felt sad.

The author may have a physical problem, how to explain this.Innocence or dignity?It is impossible to have both.

He clenched his fists.

Looking at the seat where he usually codes, there is only a small computer standing there firmly.

It's going to be bedtime soon, why hasn't he come back?

Did you go out to relax?

He finished reading the scumbag, and the plot just happened to reveal his brother's identity.

Then he suddenly remembered the tweet video saying that the short story updated today is very interesting, and he can only read it on Weibo.

So he clicked on the homepage of the rabbit fleece vending machine, and quickly found the update.

In the past, in order to prevent blocking, his articles have always been displayed in pictures or on the parking lot platform.

This time it is actually the text version.

The plot is roughly as stated in the above tweet. The doll idea company kidnapped the young author, and then the young author asked for help when updating the article.Weibo text reads:

The little writer was tied in front of the computer desk with a heavy chain, his forearm was tied to the two boards cut out of the desk with wide black tape, and even his wrist was fixed to the edge of the keyboard, only his fingers could move—the enter key needs to be used with a small Fingertips struggling to reach.

He's remorseful, the idea of ​​the kidnappers in the past was humorous, interesting and cheap, and he gained fame by whoring for nothing.How can there be such a good thing in the world?

Now he is backlashed, he has no friends, and his parents suddenly won a lottery ticket to travel around the world... For a while, no one noticed that he was missing.

Now every time he typed a word, he had to do it under his gaze, his fingers were all cramped but he didn't dare to stop.

He gave him three minutes to conceive every half hour, and if he stopped, the sound that was only a palm away from his ear would give off a loud alarm, which was deafening.He will not be behind him all the time, but the screen is recording, and there is a possibility of being spied on every second, and he dare not take the risk.

He told him that if it was more than three times, it would escalate to the sound of sharp objects scratching the glass.

He really didn't dare to try this upgrade, so even if he was drooling, he didn't dare to stop.

Three fingers is already his extreme value.When the fourth finger also cramped, he finally couldn't take it anymore and looked at the camera next to the computer.His tears flowed down, almost eroding the flesh of his cheeks, crying and crying, and the sobs gradually turned into wailing:

I was wrong... Brother, please let me go...

I was really wrong...

I'm either disobedient, or my hands are cramping!All four fingers are cramped...

I am obedient... I am really obedient...

Can you let go of my wrist?I don't run, I am obedient, you tell me to write whatever you want, you don't have to let go of your arms, only your wrists!Please, just the wrist... Woo...

There was no sound from the opposite side, only his voice echoed in the room.

He broke down and asked himself to make a condition: one, just one wrist, okay?

While crying, he coded like walking on thin ice, afraid that the loud speaker would knock him out.

"Tell me," a low and magnetic voice came from the speaker next to my ear, with a playful tone, "Which fingers are cramped? Tell me specifically."

The little writer was out of breath from crying, but he didn't dare to neglect him, so he hurriedly answered with sobs: "The little finger of the right hand, the thumb of the left hand, um... the index finger of the left hand... and..."

As he spoke, he stopped suddenly.

He, what does he want to do?

"Is there another one?" The voice in the ear was moderate, with a smile.

"No, no more..." the little writer said in horror.

He heard him say:

"Dishonest, isn't it four roots?"

"The cramped fingers hurt too much, can you remove them for me? There are still six fingers left, which is not a lot."

……

Jiang Qiwen had Liu Sheng in his heart, so he didn't have time to read carefully, so he just scrolled to the end to read the ending.Finally, when he heard the kidnapper talking to him, he suddenly hung up after making a noise. He suspected that he was a little busy, but he didn't dare to post the distress message directly.The room was cramped and there were no windows on all sides. He couldn't provide effective information and was easy to be found.

As a last resort, he pasted the update in half, adding "Help I've been kidnapped".Then edit it into a normal update in an instant.

An hour later, the kidnappers did not come to him.

He was not found.

Finally, through untold hardships, someone called the police to unlock the IP address and rescued the little writer.End of story.

Jiang Qiwen scratched his head, although the plot was okay, but he didn't get his point.

Click on the first comment: "I actually posted a text, I subconsciously clicked on the anti-blocking editing record!..."

Jiang Qiwen also clicked on it, and it turned out that the editorial record of this Weibo was the same as the text, halfway through it was the sentence "Help me, I was kidnapped".

It's nesting dolls, performance art.

Immersive reading, careful thinking and fear.

Suddenly, the dormitory was pitch black, except for the fluorescent screens of my roommates and myself.

At twelve o'clock, the lights are automatically turned off.

This means that it is now closed.

Looking at the empty bed, Jiang Qiwen turned over and got out of bed.

Not right.

His update time is in the afternoon, but he didn't go back to the dormitory all day, and the computer is also on the table.

On another look, the phone charger is also plugged into the outlet.

He hastily dug out the address book and called Liu Sheng.

"Sorry, the person you dialed has switched off. Sorry..."

I rely on.

Is that performance art?

Couldn't be fucking kidnapped, right?