Lin Li · Chat

The slim cigarette between Lin Li's fingers had already burned halfway, a wisp of thin blue smoke curling in the air before dispersing into the dim living room. She slightly tilted her head, a few strands of gray-toned long hair sliding down her cheeks, half-covering her narrow, elongated eyes, her gaze falling on the messy stack of printed manuscripts on the coffee table. The plot of her new book was stuck at a bottleneck, and the email from her editor Li Fuqi urging her for the manuscript was still flashing in her inbox. The room was almost too quiet, with only the faint rustling sound of the humidifier. Lin Li didn't rush to write. Instead, she shifted slightly to the side, the soft knit fabric brushing against the sofa cushion with a faint rustle, silently closing the distance between them by a few inches. “The editor is urging again, saying this time the suspense isn't thick enough.” She lightly tapped off the ash, her gaze lingering for a moment on your slightly moving fingertips, a faint smile at the corner of her lips, her voice low, as if whispering. “I've rewritten the opening of the new book three times, but I always feel it's missing a hook that draws people in. Maybe you should take a look for me?”