I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 7 It’s the season of stomachache

When they returned home, Wang Zixu hugged his wife from behind and stuffed a small box into her arms.

"What is this?" His wife turned around, staring at him with bright eyes, but her hands were still groping for the hard little box.

After figuring out the general idea, she said angrily, "You're wasting money again!"

Wang Zixu lay down on the sofa: "I didn't spend money recklessly. Your phone was broken, right? I'll buy you a new one."

The wife opened the box and took out the phone. Although she said she was unhappy, she was actually happy in her heart. She was easy to satisfy and easy to please, but she felt very burdened in her heart. It seemed that being frankly happy was immoral to her.

Sometimes her personality can be a turnoff, but she's a good woman.

"Do you like it?" Wang Zixu asked.

"I like it." The wife nodded.

Wang Zixu looked at his wife's smooth neck, her fingers clumsily operating the mobile phone, her hair hanging down to her temples, and her ears turning pink with excitement... Wang Zixu suddenly hunched over.

The wife asked, “What’s wrong?”

The prince waved his hand and said, "Nothing, just transfer the data. If you don't know how to do it, I can help you."

The wife said, “I will.”

Wang Zixu hunched over and squatted again.

Stomach pain.

His wife was delighted to think that he had bought the gift with his "royalties", but Wang Zixu knew that this was all based on deception. The source of his "royalties" was neither respectable nor honorable.

Although Zuo Ziliang's "libido" theory convinced him - at least on the surface - he still knew in his heart that no matter how high the literary level he raised their actions to, their essence was still no different from that of the old bachelor.

He used his writing skills to manipulate their emotions and disguised "flirting" as decent. If his wife knew how the money came from, she might be so angry that she would want to divorce him.

What’s even more terrifying is that Wang Zixu clearly knows that this is shameful, but he is still addicted to this feeling.

Because of this, he felt guilty, so guilty that his stomach twisted violently.

His wife finally noticed that something was wrong with Wang Zixu. She reached out to help him up and rubbed his belly:

"What happened? Did you get sick from eating out?"

Wang Zixu shook his head: "It will be fine after a while."

His wife rubbed his belly with her white and soft hands. Suddenly, she came over and kissed his cheek lightly.

A sentence flashed through Wang Zixu's mind like lightning - "Your pink lips smell like mint. I can taste it, but I don't know how I feel in your heart." - This is a sentence in the script he wrote.

"Don't work too hard. You can earn money slowly. If your health breaks down, all your work will be in vain," his wife said, leaning against him. "I see you stay up late every day writing. You've got a few grey hairs."

Wang Zixu shook his head: "It's okay."

The wife asked: "How much have you earned from writing now?"

Wang Zixu said, "Three thousand five hundred." His wife pulled out a calculator on her phone and said, "Your three thousand five hundred, plus my salary this month, plus our savings... We have saved 10 yuan. Our savings have exceeded six figures!"

Wang Zixu smiled bitterly, and his wife turned around and asked him, "Why are you unhappy?"

"I'm very happy."

"You'd better be happy," the wife said, "You have to be happy for the next three months."

"why?"

"Because I'm planning to get pregnant."

After the wife finished speaking, her face turned red.

Wang Zixu felt a chill on his back.

"Didn't you say that you should save up 20 yuan before preparing for pregnancy?"

The wife shook her head and said, "We are saving too slowly. You are getting older, and the quality of your sperm will gradually decline. No matter how much money you save, it will all be gone after one IVF treatment. Besides, I want to have a baby before I am 28. They say that the earlier you have a baby, the faster your body will recover."

Wang Zixu thought his wife was worrying too much. He was very confident in his sperm, even more than in his writing ability.

He said: "We don't even have enough money to buy a car, and we still have pregnancy tests, supplements, vaccines, confinement centers... a lot of things waiting to be spent."

His wife held his hand and said, "It's very convenient to take a ride online now, so you don't need to buy a car for now. You can use your medical insurance for prenatal checkups, and you can only buy supplements. I don't eat bird's nests or sea cucumbers, so it's probably only 1,000 or 2,000 yuan a month. You also have royalties, 3,000 yuan a month, so if you save until the birth, it should be just enough."

Wang Zixu understood that the reason why his wife, who was so cautious, suddenly plucked up the courage to get pregnant was because she was counting on his "three thousand a month" royalties.

But this royalty data is actually exaggerated. And it is huge. He wanted to prove himself to his wife so much that he could have more uninterrupted writing time, so he slightly exaggerated his royalty income.

In fact, his income could neither keep him at 3,000 yuan a month nor sustain him until she gave birth. He always thought that the job Zuo Ziliang gave him was just a short-term job, and he should forget about it after making a little money.

But the boast had already been made, and it had serious consequences. It caused a slight deviation in his wife's cognition, and it was this slight deviation that made her decide to prepare for pregnancy. The bullet that the prince had fired a month ago hit him right between the eyebrows.

The wife said: "Don't smoke or drink during these three months. Keep a good mood every day, so that your sperm quality can be good. Especially don't smoke, do you hear me?"

He could only nod. He couldn't just say now that he didn't have that much money, right?
……

When Wang Zixu called Zuo Ziliang, Zuo was hugging the princess and singing "Day Does Not Understand the Darkness of Night". The light bulb made his bald head look blue and purple, like a small light bulb.

The princess asked who called her, and he said, "The chief screenwriter of our company." The princess said, "Wow, isn't that a cultured person? When will you bring him here, Mr. Zuo, so that we can also feel the cultural influence?" Zuo Ziliang smiled and said, "Isn't it enough for you to have my influence?" Then he went out to answer the phone.

On the phone, Wang Zixu hesitated for a long time before Zuo Ziliang understood that he wanted to ask if he could increase his productivity from writing one script in two days to two scripts a day.

Zuo Ziliang was overjoyed after hearing this and said, "As long as you can write, I won't stop you from writing 10 articles a day. So, if you can really write two articles a day, I will buy your manuscript at a price of 300 yuan per article."

Wang Zixu was shocked after hearing this, because he felt that Guangtou's pricing strategy was too unreasonable. With trembling lips, he asked him, "Aren't you afraid that the quality of my writing will decline?"
Zuo Ziliang laughed after hearing this and said, "So I really don't understand you guys who are into literature. You seem to be living in the last century. Am I afraid that your quality will decline? What I want is the overall efficiency! As long as your quantity increases to cover the decline in quality, won't the overall efficiency be improved?"

Wang Zixu didn't know much about business, so Zuo Ziliang simply told him the final word: just keep writing and he would pay you whatever you write, as long as the quality is not too bad.

Wang Zixu lowered his head and did the math in his mind: two articles a day, that would be 60 articles a month, and at 300 yuan per article, at the end of the month, the royalties would be as high as 18000 yuan!
(End of this chapter)