Crazy Psychologist

"Treatment fee, 200 yuan?"

When Liu Yun woke up, there was a printed receipt in front of him.

"What's this?"

Muchun is no longer here, and Liuyun is the only one in the clinic.

The coffee next to him was already cold, so Liu Yun took out his cell phone and glanced at the time.

One p.m!

What?

I slept for more than three hours?

When I twisted my shoulders and neck, I discovered that my right shoulder and back were extremely sore, and my neck was unable to move as if it was trapped by a thick rope.

Only the mind is awake.

What kind of treatment is this, just letting the patient fall asleep on the table?

He actually slept for so long.

The doctor doesn't talk to the patient after get off work?

Liu Yun stood up and walked towards the door. Next to the old wooden door frame, there was a physical and mental diagnosis and treatment schedule posted.

Clinic hours on Saturday morning are 8:00-11:45.

It's over a long time ago. Doctor Mu may have left work long ago.

This is too irresponsible.

I came out without writing a single word.

After thinking about it, I couldn't blame the doctor entirely. If he hadn't fallen asleep, how could the doctor have made him fall asleep?

It seems that I really haven't had enough sleep in the past two days. After sleeping like this for a whole morning, I feel much better and my mind is much clearer.

It's a blessing in disguise.

As for the troubled comments in the past two days, they also disappeared with this sleep.

It's not really gone, at least I don't have to think about it anymore.

It's good enough. I haven't been in such good condition for a long time.

Liu Yun really wanted to go back to the study immediately, sit next to the computer, and devote himself to the creation of the novel.

He raised his head and drank the coffee on the table.

The taste of cold coffee flowed through my throat, a bit bitter, but it was perfect for refreshing my mind.

No need for coke today, just a cup of coffee and a good night's sleep, I will finish the story of T204 no matter what.

When your mind is clear, think about it. The ideas in this story should have never appeared in any novels. Even if there are similar stories, they are not big stories. It is difficult for human literature to have completely new settings and new ideas. Brand new characters.

However, this does not affect the author from writing his own story. This is creation and writing a story with heart.

Liu Yun, who has been writing fictional novels for many years, suddenly thought that he might try some non-fiction writing, such as what happened to him now.

A patient left on the table in the clinic by the doctor.

I still don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I woke up only to see a receipt for a shockingly priced treatment.

This kind of thing is not fiction. If you want to sit on a chair in the study and come up with such a story out of thin air, you don't know how much time it would take.

Even if you sit until your back is sore and your legs are aching, you may not be able to get the blessing of the goddess of inspiration.

Just like those fragments in the best-selling novel "Stranger Than Fiction" written by the most famous contemporary cult novelist Chuck Palahniuk, crash parties, time travel, enhanced experience ports, super powers... wild fantasy. These stranger-than-fiction stories are actually true, drawn from real-world people and events.

It’s not even as brilliantly processed by the writer’s pen as everyone thinks.

They just flow naturally, like the wind blowing through history, bringing the flavors of thousands of worlds.

Maybe when I reach my thirties, I can try to write some stories from my life.

After thinking about it, I had passed two or three blocks, and just around the corner was Liu Yun's residence.

Speaking of which, the straight-line distance from my home to the hospital is only one kilometer, and it only takes ten minutes to walk with a slight detour.

I didn't expect that I would take a taxi to the hospital in such a short distance. I was really sick.

I guess I don't want to stay in crowded places for too long.

Writers are ghosts stalking the streets, no, maybe only a few writers are like that.

Liuyun is definitely one of them.

After I got home, I was still in good spirits, and the story unfolded without any hiccups.

It's been a long time since I've had such a refreshing feeling.

After writing until about four o'clock in the afternoon, Liu Yun felt hungry. He drank a cup of coffee all day and didn't eat anything.

Just when I was about to order takeout, my editor Yuan Ming called.

"As for the previous collection of short stories, the publisher already has plans."

Yuan Ming's voice sounded a little tired. He probably had to work overtime on Saturday, so he was inevitably tired.

Liu Yun walked to the kitchen and agreed, "Okay, is there anything you need me to do?"

As early as a year ago, Liu Yun had submitted all the manuscripts, a collection of 150,000 words of short stories. After editing and screening by the editor, the final word count was about 120,000 words.

Although Yuan Ming's work efficiency is not high, he can be regarded as a responsible editor, and Liu Yun is well aware of this.

Holding his cell phone under his arm, Liu Yun opened the refrigerator. The distant voice on the other end was a bit intermittent. Liu Yun glanced at the empty refrigerator. Without looking further, he knew that there was nothing except Coke and some leftover peanut butter cans.

Not a single egg, not a box of instant noodles.

"I didn't hear clearly what you just said."

Liu Yun walked back to the study, and Yuan Ming's voice became clear again, "Do you know Song Xiaoxiao?"

"Song Xiaoxiao? Are you the author?"

Liu Yun seemed to have seen him somewhere, but he couldn't say he knew this person.

"Yes, an author, a newcomer."

"Newcomer?"

Yuan Ming paused, and there was no sound for several seconds.

Liuyun felt that the atmosphere was not right, so he simply did not speak.

At this time, it was better to wait for the editor to speak. Since it was him calling, he would not be casually chatting with a new author.

"You also know Nongshi Shanquan, right?"

"What?"

"They are Nongshiki and Shanquan, the authors of a fantasy novel "Guan Yichufeng" recently published by Shindo Literature."

"I know this. In fact, Nongshiki and Shanquan are two people. This is a novel written by two authors. Like the famous mystery novelist Ellery Quinn, it seems to be the same person's name. Actually there are two authors.”

"Yes, Ellery Queen is very famous. I mean, there are more two authors publishing together these days."

Enmyo spoke slowly and tried to remain relaxed.

"Yeah, it's not easy to collaborate on a novel. I never thought that I could collaborate on a novel like this."

"Of course, this cannot be forced. Some of it is due to time reasons. I heard that Shanquan is a more careful researcher, while Nongshiki is better at promoting the plot."

“What a great collaboration.”

Liuyun echoed.

"What I mean is, can Song Xiaoxiao and Liu Yun collaborate on a short story collection? I've just been considering your short story collection plan recently."

What's the meaning? Could it be that a collection of independent short stories is going to be turned into a collection?

"Things About Royalties"

Liu Yun could no longer hear clearly what Yuan Ming said behind him.

His hands began to tremble again, like the lonely old man he saw in the hospital a few days ago.