48 Hours a Day

Zhang Heng handed Hemingway the outline he had printed out from the computer.

"Is this the novel you plan to write?" Hemingway read the outline and handed it to Fitzgerald, who waited until the latter had read it and handed it to the next person, until after a round, the outline was back in Zhang Heng's hands.

Then Zhang Heng asked, "What do you guys think?"

"A very exciting story." Agatha said, "I quite liked it, especially the reversal at the end, it's full of drama, it's going to be a very popular novel, no matter what era it is, I'm sure it will be popular with readers, people will be stomping through the doors of bookstores for it."

"I don't intend to sell it, but rather I want to put it on the web for as many people as possible to read for free."

"What's the internet?"

"The internet is like a giant grocery market that is easily accessible to everyone in the world," Chang Heng explained.

"It sounds cool, but, uh ...... it would be nice if writers could make money from it to support themselves." Dickens said.

"It's true that in my time there are some writers who can support themselves by creating on the internet." The fantasy bestselling female author.

And that's when Fitzgerald spoke up, "Your outline is great, but what are you going to do about your feelings."

"We've provided you with a few solutions, but it doesn't look like you like any of them." Hemingway chimed in, "Of course, in all fairness, it's also true that none of these solutions are perfect. Emotion is like the soul of a story, and without it, your story will never be complete."

"I've figured out how to get my emotions back," Chang Heng paused, "at least, in the creation of this novel."

"Then you're in for a great story," Fitzgerald.

"A magnificent epic of adventurers." Asimov pushed up his glasses as well.

"An unprecedented bestselling novel." The fantasy bestselling female author lamented.

"Thanks to your help, I couldn't have made it this far on my own if you hadn't taught me how to write and pointed me in the right direction." Zhang Heng put that outline away and thanked the group of authors.

He then arrived at the door of Room 515 by himself and tapped on the door three times before inserting a brass key into the lock and twisting it gently.

He had already done this set of actions an unknown number of times, so he was very skilled, and after entering the living room Zhang Heng did not stop and pushed open the door of the study straight away.

Lovecraft unprecedented today neither helped others to change the text, nor did he create his own creation, the old typewriter was received by him on the side of the bookshelf, and there was a small bottle of wine and two glasses on that desk.

The bottle of wine that had come from Lovecraft's grandfather had long since been consumed by the two, and now this one was a gift that Zhang Heng had taken to him three days ago.

Lovecraft poured the red wine into the glasses, just as he had done when the two had first met. But today, he was also wearing a suit that he hadn't taken out for a long time, and his entire body looked a little more energetic.

When Zhang Heng brought the outline to him, Lovecraft put on his own glasses and eagerly read it, and a long while later, he put down the paper in his hands, obviously not yet going to drink his own glass of wine, but at the moment, Tate breathed a sigh of contentment as if he had just finished a whole bottle of good wine.

"Do you mind if I use those settings you made earlier for the story?" Zhang Heng was a little surprised.

"Of course not, I love having authors along to help me refine and populate my world, in fact a few of the pen pals I corresponded with before they, quite a few of them, are using the setting to write their stories." Lovecraft shrugged.

"What about the end, is the ending acceptable to you as well?" Zhang Heng asked, "After all, the ending of this story I've created is different from the ones you've written before."

"I would have thought before I met you that it did go against my consistent aesthetic, because I've created stories where no matter how much the protagonist fights back, they end up in greater despair, and you're the first person to write a story that comes after that, that borrows from my system but is really about a person who is in despair and knows it. The story of how the inescapable fights fate with all their might!"

Lovecraft seems to be pondering how to express himself more accurately, and after a moment continues, "It's as if ...... all the hope in my novel is meant to usher in the final glimmer of despair, but all the despair in your novel is meant to pave the way for the final glimmer of hope, which is indeed the same as I'm good at a different style of writing, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying your story, and I don't know why, maybe it's because hope and despair are inherently two sides of the same coin, like light and darkness, and without either side, the world has a hard time becoming truly real."

"Seriously," Lovecraft looked into Chang Heng's eyes, "I think your new story has helped me fill out the last piece of my setting, and for that, I should toast you as well." Lovecraft raised his wine glass after saying that.

Zhang Heng also lifted the one that belonged to him, "To the fear of the unknown."

"To the courage of mankind to never give in." Lovecraft whispered and drank the red wine in his hand.

A quarter of an hour later, Zhang Heng walked out of room 515 with the outline.

By now, most of his plan had been completed, and there was only one last thing left, the emotion he was missing.

And the last thing Zhang Heng went to find after bidding farewell to Hemingway and Lovecraft and the others was none other than the hobbit housekeeper.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" The hobbit housekeeper was as polite as ever and put down her vase.

Her racial gifts allowed her to make almost no noise no matter where she went or what she was doing, in fact she had just been in the hall, but few of the writers passing by could spot her.

"There's, there's someone I want to meet." Chang Heng.

"Who?" The hobbitess housekeeper asked, "I will try to accommodate your request for a meeting, but I can't help you bring in anyone from the outside other than the writer at the manor, and us, the service staff."

"But there is one person who can," Zhang Heng didn't sell any more secrets and said straightforwardly, "I want to see the male butler, Concer, who received me before I came to this manor, and he is also a member of the service staff, so you should be able to help me find him."

"You want to see him?" The hobbit housekeeper was a little surprised.

"That's right." Zhang Heng, "In Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Consel stayed by the side of the main character, Professor Aronnus, and walked with him the entire way, so I guess my relationship with Consel shouldn't be only one side of our first encounter."