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bletofindawayoutofthissituation.“
ShenRuipingnodded,eventhoughheknewthatShenXiongcouldn‘tseehim.
“I‘lldoit,“hesaid,determinationcoursingthroughhisveins.“I‘llwriteourwayoutofthismess.“
Andwiththat,ShenRuipingsatbackdownathisdeskandbegantotypeonceagain.Thistime,however,heknewthathewasn‘tjustwritingastory-hewaswritingtheirlives.
Asthehourspassed,ShenRuipingfoundhimselfbecomingmoreandmoreimmersedintheworldofhisnovel.HefeltlikehewaslivingthroughShenXiong‘sexperiences,anditwasexhilarating.Hewrotefeverishly,determinedtogiveShenXiongthebestchanceatsurvivalpossible.
Butasthesunbegantosetonanotherday,ShenRuipingrealizedthathehadbeensocaughtupinhiswritingthathehadn‘tevennoticedthetime.Helookedupfromhisdeskandsawthathisphonewasblowingupwithtextsfromhisfriends.
“Hey,wherehaveyoubeen?“oneofthemasked.“orriedaboutyou.“
ShenRuipingsighedandrubbedhiseyes.Hehadforgottenallabouttherealworldoutsideofhisnovel.
“I‘mfine,“hesaid,tryingtosoundnonchalant.“Justalittleoverwhelmedwithworkrightnow.“
Hisfriendsnoddedsympathetically.“Well,we‘rehereforyouifyouneedus,“oneofthemsaid.
ShenRuipingsmiledandthankedthem.Heknewthattheywerejustbeingkind,butitmadehimfeelbetter.
Ashehungupthephone,ShenRuipingcouldn‘thelpbutthinkabouthowsurrealhislifehadbecome.Hewasanauthor,trappedinaworldoffantasy,withaprotagonistwhowasalsohisownconsciousness.Itwascrazy,buthewouldn‘ttradeitforanything.
Hewentbacktohisdesk,feelingmorerefreshedandfocusedthaneverbefore.Heknewthattheroadaheadwouldbedifficult,buthewasreadyforwhatevercamenext.
Andashebegantowriteonceagain,ShenRuipingfeltasenseofexcitementandanticipationbuildinginsidehim.Whatlayahead?WouldtheybeabletodefeatZhiyanandsaveShenXiong‘slife?Onlytimewouldtell.