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Chapter 866 2021.11.8 Contribution Office

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    Yesterday, I dreamed again I saw a middle-aged man with a round face standing in the house from a formless perspective, looking through the books submitted by the authors, wearing light earth-colored casual clothes.  From the angle of view, a large area is occupied by this round-faced editor. From the corners of the surroundings, it can be seen that this room is very large and spacious. There are many work tables compactly placed, and there are paper notebooks on it. This should be an editorial department.  such units.

    Instead, I brought my unfinished novel of more than 100,000 words to contribute. This was completely forced by a few enthusiastic friends.  When I entered the door, I found that it was the big house I saw from the angle of view just now, and I saw the editor with a round face near the front obliquely to the left, and there was another man obliquely in front of the right.  After I said hello, I roughly stated my intentions and handed in my unfinished manuscript.

    Then the round-faced editor stood and flipped through the pages, while I walked a few steps in and stood aside waiting.   In fact, I didn't come here voluntarily. When I entered the door to say hello, I just wanted to give it a try since I came.  When I saw this round-faced editor reviewing other people's manuscripts before, I found that he was quite strict. However, I am quite confident about my unfinished novel, and I believe that it will be favored by the editors.   As time passed, the review was still going on. I peeked at the round-faced editor a few times, but I couldn't figure out the meaning of those reading expressions.  As far as the expression is concerned, there are changes, but they are all slightly small, and the capture is not very clear, so I can't help but feel a little uneasy.  After all, when the work is shown to others, of course, I really want to know the perceptual feedback of the people who see it.

    When I looked at the round-faced editor and thought about it, he also raised his head and smiled and looked at me, and said to me that I am not what I was when I first came in, and so on, which means that I can see my current situation.  This anxious heart to be judged.  What I was most concerned about was how my writing was, so I hurriedly asked him at this moment, and then the round-faced editor paused for a moment, then told me to take it and go directly to No. 6.   Judging by the round-faced editor's appearance, the response to this book is not bad,  I got a reminder for the next step, and I happily went out with my book.

    As soon as I went out, I was surrounded by enthusiastic friends who were more anxious and anxious than me. Everyone was concerned about my results, so I happily told everyone about the next trip to the 6th, so everyone was happy  Desperately, I went to find the office room together I saw that the room number was written outside the door on the left hand side of the semi-open corridor of the old building. There are several in a row, but there is no No. 6 here.  .

    I have an impression of office room No. 6. I took a look when I passed by there before, I thought about it, and I was sure it was on the third floor.  So I took everyone along the semi-open corridor of the old building towards that side Then I was lost in thought, and walked down the stairs from the old building unconsciously.  I didn't realize something was wrong when I was about to go down to the first floor, and I quickly turned back when I realized it.  My friends saw me walking downstairs, so they followed behind. I turned back and went up the steps to the left, and when I turned up the stairs, I met the people who went down there head-on.  When they saw that I was coming up again, they wondered what was going on, and then I briefly talked about the situation.

    Instead, a friend rode a small pedal tricycle with a bucket, and other friends and I sat in the bucket, and we moved forward along an old road.   I remembered that I haven't been to the office room at No. 6 yet, so I'm leaving now?   Some regrets hovered in my heart.

    At this moment, I saw a door facing the street just past the road that seemed to have a number, and I felt that it was office room No. 6.  So I hurriedly yelled to stop the friend who was pedaling in front of me, jumped out of the car and ran back, and two or three friends also got off the car and came here.

    When I got closer to see it clearly, I found that the number was 5. This is the No. 5 office room, which looks like an old house.   Then this means that office room No. 6 should be not far from No. 5 in our driving direction.  With this sudden hope, I immediately searched for it along the road

    Finally found office room No. 6, which is a dilapidated small place.  I walked in through the single door, and saw that it was dark and dirty inside.  The room is not big, a few people are operating the machine, like a small workshop, and there are scattered pieces of cloth or paper on the corner of the floor.   A good friend came in here with me behind me. A middle-aged man in light earth-colored clothes stood on the right side of the door and greeted us with his back to the wall. He is the person in charge here.   I didn't look closely at the middle-aged man's face at first. I heard the voice and the impression that he flickered when he came in. I felt like an elder I had seen in Wei's before. I felt very similar. I was wrong for a while.  I thought so.

    ? When I got to the house and stood there, I took a closer look and found that it was not alone, but it was really similar in appearance, about the same size, tall.  It's just that this elder is much thinner than the elder I saw before, and his face is also much smaller.  I saw him take out a piece of paper and read it, and saw that there were many places marked with red pen on it, and there was also the words 6-6, and this piece of paper was for me.?Annotations made for a new unfinished book.  The first impression this gave me was like a test paper that was being graded. When I saw that 6-6, I felt a little uneasy for no reason, and I didn't know what it meant.

    Then I also took out a piece of paper about my new book and handed it to the middle-aged man.  This piece of paper of mine came from that round-faced editor, and I don't know what kind of spark it will have.  Thinking that I still have a lot to finish in this book, no matter what, I still have to finish it safely.

    The middle-aged man looked at the paper I handed him, then shook his head sideways, and lightly ordered me to clean up the garbage by the wall.  I looked at the pile of rubbish, it was some black charcoal lumps.  Immediately, I understood that this guy was just taking the shelf, The final result can still be controlled by him, the garbage is there, whether to clean it up, how to do it, this is a question thrown to me.   I am very resistant to this, so I have a very bad opinion of the middle-aged man in front of me, but the facts are there I looked at the garbage for a while, and finally bent down to clean it up  .

    Instead, I pulled a trolley and passed by some distance away from the door of office room No. 6. When I got to the door, I turned my head to the left and looked in.  Young men trampled on my manuscripts that were thrown on the ground!  Moreover, he stomped back and forth unconsciously, seeing that the leather of those manuscripts had been blackened by the charcoal marks on the soles of his shoes, and covered with a thin layer of black toner while he was busy operating on his own  The machine at hand didn't see my manuscript on the ground at all, and the reason why the manuscript was lying on the ground and being trampled on was of course all because of him!

    Seeing this, I felt very uncomfortable and heartbroken. I left my work and strode towards that person I have endured the humiliation for my own works, and my precious things are being trampled on.  Then why am I still suffering from this anger!  Just go and talk to him!

    I strode up to the middle-aged man, squatted down, and took out the big sweet potatoes from the charcoal-fired blast furnace. Those were all mine, I brought them, and the big sweet potatoes were stacked in circles  .  I was scolding the middle-aged man while moving the sweet potato, but the man who saw my operation showed a mysterious and subtle expression, with an unpredictable feeling. Could it be that he deliberately put me on this way to test me?  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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