Trillionaire's Slice of Life

The girl in front of him was around one hundred sixty-seven or sixty-eight centimeters tall, with a pair of pink high-heeled sandals on her feet. Unlike the delicate attire she donned last night in Tianxiang Garden, the girl now wore a blue and white striped sundress, with her waterfall-like long hair cascading over her shoulders.

She appeared to be not wearing makeup, or if she was, it was very light. Despite this, her stunning face showed not a single flaw.

Chu Mo could detect a faint scent of flowers on her, as if it were barely there.

Like himself, her delicate nose was also adorned with a pair of glasses, but Chu Mo noticed that her glasses lacked lenses; they had only frames.

Given Chu Mo's understanding of the bookstore, the prose section nearby should have been the least crowded, as the majority of customers entering would typically focus on the shelves filled with various classic novels. There were readers interested in prose, too, but they were a small minority.

However, at this moment, as Chu Mo surveyed the surroundings, he found that most of the store's customers were clustered near the prose area.

There were eighteen or nineteen-year-old youths, twenty-something artistic types, and even several men in their forties or fifties.

What they had in common was that, whether standing or leaning, each person had a book in hand. Equally notable, they were completely oblivious to the contents of these books; their entire focus was devoted to the breathtaking girl named Ruyu beside them,

If it had been in line with Chu Mo's usual character, he would have turned and left under such scrutiny.

But now, spread out before him on the shelf were a dozen or so of his own books—books that were newly printed and even emitted a fresh ink smell. These books held an immense allure for Chu Mo.

Even if an equivalent stack of money were placed before him, he wouldn't give it a second glance.

The surrounding gazes made him uncomfortable, but the books before him were too tempting for him to want to leave. Taking a gentle breath and focusing on the girl in front of him, Chu Mo discovered that she, too, was holding a copy of "Chu Mo's Short Stories Collection", and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.

"What do you think of this book?"

He knew the caliber of the book he had typed out word by word, but seeing someone else reading his words always stirred a mix of anticipation and nervousness in him.

The feeling was complicated.

He longed for others' recognition yet feared their rejection because he knew the overall quality of the book.

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Ruyu, who had made it to page thirty-four, gently rubbed her cute little nose. When she went out alone, she would wear this pair of glasses with only black frames.

Because these glasses would "seal" some of her beauty and, at least when she went out, prevented her from being gawked at like a giant panda.

She gently closed the book in her hands. As a top student at Shui Mu University, Ruyu wasn't just a pretty face without a brain; she was intelligent, much more so than the average person.

She knew exactly what she wanted; even in a place like Tianxiang Garden—a top-tier rich club—she remained true to herself and preserved her first time.

As Ruyu gently closed the book, she shifted her gaze to the young man in front of her. She wouldn't blindly try to please; she knew that the book in her hands was deeply connected to the young man before her, but pandering was pointless. Of course, outright condemning it was even worse.

So, collecting her thoughts, the girl spoke with a voice as enchanting as an angel's choir:

"How to put it, within the realm of my readings, this book is nothing more than mediocre. Speaking of the thirty-four short stories I've read, the author's writing is elegant, and the rhetoric is quite ornate; it's clear that the book's author possesses a solid literary foundation.

However, the shortcomings are quite obvious. The stories are too cliché, and it seems as though the author is writing for the sake of writing; it leaves me with a feeling of aimlessness and lack of a central theme."

Upon hearing this, Chu Mo, who was beside her, directed his gaze at the book before him, feeling a slight sense of nostalgia.

The girl was right; the articles he had written were mostly for making ends meet, for survival. This was especially true later on, when the daily output became very rushed; often, even when inspiration was lacking, he would force himself to continue writing to pay rent and to eat.

Over time, he had indeed been writing for the sake of writing, gradually losing sight of his true thoughts.

Now he was seeking his innermost genuine thoughts, not worrying about editors' opinions, market reactions, or reader dissatisfaction. In short, he was trying to write something with soul.

The reason he did this was because he had recognized his past shortcomings.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Chu Mo took a deep breath and opened the book in front of him, browsing through it with renewed seriousness.

No matter what, these words were his efforts, created over countless days and nights, expending immeasurable amounts of mental energy.

He was aware of the flaws, but to say there were no merits at all would be to undervalue himself. This book contained three hundred and eighty articles; it had its chaff, but among them were quite a few vibrant flashes of genius.

He savored each word with care, thoroughly studying every page; his expression wore an intense focus.

Seeing that the young man beside her no longer paid her any mind, the top student from Shui Mu University felt a hesitation, wondering if her words were too harsh. She was considering whether to express her appreciation for the book in a more tempered manner when the young man suddenly spoke: