The solar system is broken

Han Ling'er used a branch to pick up the fire in the fire pit, but it didn't stop.

The writer covered his face and waited for the so-called person to pick him up.

The two of them have their own situations.

"Hey!" Han Ling'er's hands stopped moving and she stretched out her long legs to kick the writer.

"I have a reputation." He stepped back.

"I want to ask you, have you finished writing your book?"

Book?

The writer thought about it and realized that he had written three serious books, the first of which was "The Origin of Human Literature" which he wrote while in college.

That book drew on J.M. Abrams' "Mirror and Lamp" and also referenced the American symbol scholar Sigmund Freud. The originality of the book was not very good and it was always summarized, so its sales were poor.

It's a mess.

The second one was written when I was a graduate student. It was a martial arts novel "Yuanyang Dao", which was very social security.

When writing this book, the writer was in financial crisis, and Jiang Che had no money for a month.

The writer had finished the draft of this book, and at that time the editor praised him as a genius for writing novels. Of course, the writer didn't think this required his approval.

The third book is "Theory of Social Structure of the Universe" written by Yi Yi. This book was written while he was in school.

But this book had three problems: lack of material, lack of argument, and lack of time. In fact, he only wrote four volumes and then stopped.

In his more than twenty years of life, the writer has spent half of his time writing books.

Those blue grids are filled with lost youth.

"Which one?"

The slight firelight flickered on the writer's face, and the lingering power of the night was written on his delicate face by the flames.

"Cosmic Society...that one."

The writer shook his head with a wry smile. This book may never be completed in his lifetime. "Maybe in the long future."

The flames burned brightly, and Han Linger's face showed a trace of disappointment.

"Are you a college student?" The writer tried to ease the awkward atmosphere.

"Well," Han Ling'er locked her knees with her hands, put her head flat against her knees, and secretly glanced at the writer.

The writer said goodbye. He didn't like being looked at by girls. When they were not acquainted with each other before, Kawahara teased him like this.

"Isn't going to college as important as high school?"

"Um?"

"I mean...uh, studies." The writer quickly added a supplementary clause.

The result was counterproductive, and Han Linger's face turned even redder.

"Your schooling in China is much better than my university in California," the writer quickly changed the subject. After all, he didn't want to be slapped twice.

"Yeah," Han Ling'er hummed meekly.

In fact, after learning that the writer was Jiang Nan and the blessing of his appearance, Han Linger's perception of the writer became much better.

"When I went to school in California, I took the bus to school in the winter."

Public transportation in the United States can be said to be a huge nightmare for a little boy. There are few routes and security problems are also worrying.

"Isn't there anyone to take you to school?"

As the darling of the family, even though she is not rich, Han Ling'er has always been chauffeured to and from her since she was a child.

The writer shook his head and said, "My sister only remits enough money for living expenses and tuition fees every time. The excess must be saved."

Jiang Che's salary is very high, but in a safe zone where land is at a premium, most of Jiang Che's money goes to pay rent.

"I remember one time," the writer lowered his head, feeling frustrated, "I walked 2 kilometers to school to pay the fee, just to have an extra five dollars."

"That time, I paid 2,000 dollars in one lump sum."

??A one-time payment of 2,000 knives.

Why do I feel like you are driving?

The writer had no idea that an old driver was driving very hard on the crooked road.

"I still remember that time. I arrived very late at the stairs. After handing in, I was so tired that I didn't want to move..."

"Pfft~chi", a thick male voice finally couldn't bear it any longer.

"Huh?" The writer frowned and looked for the source of that obscene voice.

But he saw the egg boy with his hands and feet tied up, laughing and making pig noises on the ground.

"Are these those well-dressed people? And they said it in front of other girls." He sneered, "I turned off the light, disgusting, disgusting."

Han Ling'er's blushing face was buried.

Writer: I am painfully recalling that you...

"You are too perverted," the writer covered his face and stepped aside, "You know everything!"

After a while, Han Linger raised her head, stood up, and went to the corner to find a brick.

The writer took several steps back and said, "You know I didn't mean that. You can't do this."

Snapped!

Eggboy rolled his eyes and raised his thumb, "You are cruel enough." He dropped his hand.

"Let's continue," Han Ling'er threw away the bricks in her hands and clapped her hands calmly.

Is he dead?

"unimportant."

As the saying goes, it's self-defense.

The writer didn't dare to talk nonsense anymore, and the two chatted every sentence.

From the conversation, the writer learned that Han Ling'er's family was in the business of prescribing medicine. The Han family had become popular recently and was said to be working on a special project.

A project about human tissue culture, simply put, is the cultivation of human organs.

Different from the past, this kind of human organ culture aims at overall culture.

It's a bit like cloning, but it doesn't have the shortcomings of cloning.

Of course, this technology has not yet broken through to expectations.

If this technology is successful, humans could achieve immortality in a sense.

Immortality? Good or bad? This is a question that has always troubled mankind.

Only the short life has wonderful meaning. The long life span cannot make people learn to cherish it.

But the fact is that human beings are more about the inability to live forever than about whether there is meaning.

The two of them were waiting for the police to arrive and were very relaxed.

...

But for Carl, today was a terrible day.

First, he was tricked by a little guy, and then for no apparent reason, he had a fierce exchange of fire with this group of people in the ruins.

The twelve bullets were shot quickly.

Hua Qiang's gun only has 9 bullets. What's worse is that he is not used to using this antique gun.

The gunpowder was not manufactured to standard, and he saw with his own eyes that the farmer holding the gun exploded and shattered his face with splinters.

The powerful recoil made my arms numb and unable to lift them up.

Fortunately, after more than ten minutes of suppression by the other side, they also ran out of bullets and misfired one after another.

Next comes hand-to-hand combat.

It's a pity that Carl has no advantage in hand-to-hand combat, as he has no weapons.

And adhering to the concept that Chinese people know martial arts, he became a little afraid of the two tough bandits.

Carl was forced into a small corner.

With his back against the wall, although he couldn't use his hands and feet, he could avoid being double-teamed from behind.

Carl used the pistol as a smashing weapon and took stances one behind the other to prevent the two people on the opposite side from hitting the vital points at the same time.

The gunfight lasted for more than ten minutes, and as long as Karl held on for half an hour, the police would arrive at the scene.

You don’t even have to wait that long, maybe ten minutes at most.

Huhu~

Hold the pistol in your left hand as a blunt weapon, and lower your right hand as a blocker. If that doesn't work, you can also use it as a meat pad.

"Why is this crooked nut kernel so strong?" Gangzi gasped, half of his face was blown up, which made the man very angry and wanted to kill him at any cost.

"If we don't leave first, we won't be able to leave when the police come."

"If we don't kill him, wouldn't my elder brother's death be in vain?" Gangzi wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"But..."

"Shut up, if you want to leave, you can go by yourself," Gangzi scolded loudly, "Most righteous people are dog-slaughters. If you want to leave, I won't stop you, but I look down on you."

Hua Qiang's death has made this man completely lose his patience.

"Then! Do it!"

Karl felt that something was wrong with him.

"You and I, brothers, work together, how can we be the same enemy?"

One punch on the right and one punch on the left.

Not to mention your strength, even if you block both sides, you can't keep up with her speed.

Karl's heart became fierce, he didn't care about his back, and rushed out with a lunge.

A flying kick, an authentic Spartan kick, targeting the crotch.

It's a pity that Gangzi is not stupid. He has practiced for a few days. He immediately hooked his body and hugged the thigh with both hands.

He raised the dagger in his hand to stab, and Karl threw out the pistol in his hand.

With a clang, the dagger fell.

It's just that Karl couldn't pull it out either. He was trapped by the rigid rod and couldn't move forward or retreat.

Karl waved his arms and tried his best to maintain balance, but another trafficker aimed a stab at his waist. Karl secretly screamed, and swung hard. The trafficker's thrust cut a bloody gash, missed the target, and fell down.

On the ground.

As for Karl, this kick also threw him to the ground.

The gravel-covered ground made him groan.

Gangzi saw him being knocked down and took advantage of the situation to ride on him.

Fists the size of bowls fell densely on Karl's face. Coupled with the blood on his waist, Karl was beaten so hard that he couldn't open his eyes for a while. But fortunately after receiving two punches, Karl's legs were hooked up and clamped on his body.

of Gangzi.

Just like a stunt, Carl used a scissor kick to lock Gangzi's throat.

Gangzi was in pain and couldn't use the strength in his hand, so he was kicked off by Karl.

Karl opened the way and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, stepped forward, smashed his foot, and stepped on Gangzi's chest.

The two-inch-deep nail shoes broke two ribs.

Gangzi's body was curled up by the severe pain. A person like him without professional training has lost his ability to fight.

The other man licked his lips and waved his hand to Karl tremblingly.

The lower body is unstable and the pace is messy. This person is only relying on his bloody bravery to hold on.

"Why don't you run?" Karl covered the wound with his hand. The wound was not shallow and was bleeding a lot. "You obviously can't beat me."

"Go to hell!"

The knife was swung at Karl's chest.

It's just that the speed of such a knife is too slow, the location is too obvious, and it's too easy to defend against.

Karl punched the trafficker on the left ribs. The man was in pain and the knife was deflected. At this time, Karl stretched his arms again, locked the trafficker in his arms, and threw him over his shoulder, knocking the trafficker's head off.

His spine was aimed at the ground and smashed down.

The man stopped moving on the spot.

call!

Karl was half-kneeling on the ground tiredly.

"Pa bang bang~"

A burst of applause came from an abandoned second floor.

An old monk wearing shabby cassocks stood there quietly, coinciding with the crescent moon.

When did this monk come? Karl was completely shocked.

"Friend, what do you want to do?"

The old monk smiled, jumped down from the second floor, and gently landed on a pile of hay. There was no muffled sound as expected.

"Guest, I've been waiting for you for a long time."

"Who are you?" Karl was very wary.

After all, now he is injured and out of strength.

"Pa~"

A small iron ball shot out of the old monk's sleeve.

Karl heard the sound of the wind and tried to block it, but it was too late. The iron ball flew past Karl's ear.

thump!

As soon as Gangzi stood up, he received an iron pill directly on his temple.

The whole person was as tired as clay.

Karl was frightened and wanted to stand up, but a pair of skinny hands had already been placed on his shoulders.

The hand seemed as heavy as the mountains and rivers, unable to hold it up even half a cent.

"Don't worry, you are my guest."

"Of course, even if you are not injured, you are still no match for me."

Is this what Chinese people call national martial arts? I’m afraid it has become an immortal.

The old monk looked at the shocked Karl and closed one eye, "Want to learn?"

Gudong! Swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"Thirty years of success~"

Interest is something that disappears so quickly.