The next bunch of signed network writers all had their eyes burning on Xiao Fang, and they didn't even bat an eyelid for fear of missing any of Xiao Fang's next moves.

Be aware that Xiao Fang is at least the author of the online version of the story. The eyesight strength of the author on the shelf is many times greater than that of the author on the signing network below.

In the next moment, Xiao Fang suddenly opened his eyes and immediately launched the vision of the city, the eyes of Zhan Cham. Immediately, a white light shot from the accusing XiaoFang's eyes.

This urban clairvoyant eye can not only see into everything, but also be used as an attack.

Where the white light passed, even the space around them showed many noticeable contortions. The nothingness seemed to be slicing and dicing, the white light streaking across the sky, extremely dazzling and shocking.

The light from Xiao Fang's eyes, the final rebuke, blasted directly into an empty mountain a thousand miles away.

The hundred-square-foot peak thundered, exploded, and was sliced straight in half under the stunned gaze of the crowd. The noise thundered through the air. It was obvious that Xiao Fang had cast an extremely powerful urban psionic spell.

"Brother Xiao Fang is mighty!" There was a slight silence, and when the crowd came to their senses, the whole place erupted, and shouts shook the air.

Xiao Fang, the editor, smiled and became an instructor to the writers of the Seven Worlds Signing Network. It wasn't much, but it was nice to enjoy the adoring stares of the writers.

Qianlong Lee had also learned a few tricks on the sly, but the network writers of the public realm didn't have enough literary prowess to cast spells.

Public-network writers simply cannot exert the power that these inner doors should. So it's almost impossible for web writers under the public six to learn magic.

Network author's practice is constantly hammering their own life of the treasure book, only to sign the realm of the network author, after having the treasure book of this name, can be condensed into more literary power, play a role in the strength of network author.

Network writers without the Book of Destiny are, at best, a little better in the flesh than in the mortal people.

With a sigh, Qianlong Lee remembered that he hadn't finished his chores for the day and trotted over to the Public Network Author Management Office.

But as soon as he entered the Public Administration Office, he saw Cao Biao, the sullen public administrator.

"Why are you late again today? Go in and get the buckets. The water supply is at the bottom of Clear Wind Mountain. There is a spring on the other side of the mountain. Pick up ten buckets of water there. Do not eat until you are done! Do you hear me?" Cao Biao, the steward of the public office, squinted at Qianlong Lee's late arrival.

Qianlong Lee is still thinking of the morning steal that urban ability -clairvoyant eyes, silently YY himself cast that trick, will normally look down on their own people killed slag, did not listen to Cao Biao in charge of the look.

"Do you understand me or not?" Seeing Qianlong Lee distracted, Cao shouted.

"Yes, Steward, I will try to do my job." Qianlong Lee was awakened by Cao Biao's outburst, not daring to complain, not daring to hesitate, and immediately ran for the bucket.

"Good, then get going!" With that, he, too, ignored Qianlong Lee and sat cross-legged on the ground to continue his practice.

At this, Qianlong Lee had envy in his eyes, but he could only sigh to himself. Entering the room and looking around, I saw the ten massive vats behind a door.

Qianlong Lee ran to the tub and struggled to pick up the bucket next to it.

With a wry smile, he picked up two buckets and headed outside. It took a long walk to reach what the other person called the spring.

It took Qianlong Lee a full quarter of an hour to walk from here to the spring at the foot of the hill.

The mountain springs are quite beautiful scenery, the sound of water rattling, as if the world is a fairyland. Qianlong Lee, however, had no time for the sights, quickly filled her bucket and hurried up the hill.

It wasn't until noon that he filled three tanks. He wouldn't have had the strength to do the rest without something to eat if he hadn't remembered he had the steamed bun on him.

Even so, his legs and arms were now sore and aching from the exertion.

He brooded a little and found a no man's land with half a bucket of water. Scooping up some water from the bucket and drinking, a slight feeling filled my stomach and the ache in my muscles slowly dissipated.

The primitive mountain range where Qixi Wenzong lived was so rich in literature that even the spring water on the mountain had a faint literary power. Qianlong Lee drained half the bucket of water, his muscles no longer sore and he was refreshed.

Daring to be snubbed, Qianlong Lee immediately got down to her work of fetching water.

Because of a delay in the morning, Qianlong Lee was not filled with eight vats of water until late in the afternoon. But it's a good thing Qianlong Lee has some steamed bread stashed away, otherwise he'll be hungry again after his non-stop work.

It was late, and Qianlong Lee was finished.

Walking through the Seven Seasons, Qianlong Lee saw most of the web writers dressed in gray. One by one, they were in a hurry, their faces impassive, some with tools of work in their hands, their faces tired, their eyes filled with unspeakable frustration and powerlessness.

Qianlong Lee had been walking north for a long time when he saw a row of squat houses.

This is where the public network writers live, there are obviously more of them than elsewhere, but they still go about their business and talk to each other very little. These people seemed to have long since lost their enthusiasm to the suffering before them, like zombies.

Qianlong Lee, also accustomed to the frosty expressions of everyone here, went to her room and pushed the door open.

Qianlong Lee's room was small, with two wooden beds and a table, but it was clean, like a normal home.

Pulling pen and paper from the corner of the room, Qianlong Lee swallowed her exhaustion and continued to work on her novel through gritted teeth.

Qianlong Lee's current novel is about a scrappy internet writer who struggles to break into the online world.

In a way, the book is also pinning his own dreams.

Although the life in front of you is very difficult, it is impossible to extinguish the dream in your heart, no matter what time, the dream never dies.

Qianlong Lee had just returned to her dorm room. With a tired look on his face, another skinny, gray-clad teenager pushed open the door and came in. He winced slightly at the sight of Qianlong Lee.

Sighing softly, she ignored him and lay down on the bed, blacking out.

Qianlong Lee didn't care either, he knew the man had to get up early to work tomorrow too. Touching his stomach, Qianlong Lee pulled some buns from the corner. He usually hid the food just to get through the days when he didn't have any.

Know that public network writers do not enjoy any family benefits, only to complete the corresponding work can eat, not to achieve hunger.

The air-dried buns were dry and hard, and Qianlong Lee took a few bites before he managed to swallow them.

Then the teenager lying across from him stirred and stood up staring at the steamed bun in Qianlong Lee's hand. The teen swallowed and begged in a low voice, "Can I have a steamed bun?"

With that, Qianlong Lee knew that the other party had also failed to complete the task to the point of not being able to eat.

Qianlong Lee immediately took out some of the remaining buns and threw them on each other's beds, laughing, "I have a lot of buns here, so if you're hungry, eat some."