Zhang Heng printed out the outline from the computer and handed it to Hemingway.
"Is this the book you're going to write?" After Hemingway finished reading the outline, he handed it to Fitzgerald, who then passed it to the next person. After a round of reading, the outline returned to Zhang Heng's hand.
Zhang Heng then asked, "What do you guys think?"
"It's a wonderful story," Agatha said. Agatha said, "I quite like it, especially the twist at the end. It's full of drama. This will be a very popular book. No matter what era it is in, I believe it will be popular with readers. People will trample the doors of bookstores to death for it."
"I don't plan to sell it. I want to put it on the Internet for as many people as possible to read for free."
"What is the Internet?"
"The Internet is like a giant grocery market that everyone in the world can easily reach," Zhang Heng explained.
"It sounds cool, but, uh … it would be better if writers could earn money from it to support themselves," Dickens said.
"In my era, there are indeed some writers who can support themselves through writing on the Internet," the fantasy best-selling female author said.
At this time, Fitzgerald also said, "Your outline is great, but how do you plan to solve the problem of love?"
"We have provided you with a few solutions, but it seems that you don't like them very much," Hemingway said. "Of course, to be fair, these solutions are indeed not perfect. Love is like the soul of a story. Without it, your story will never be complete. "
"I have figured out how to get back my feelings," Zhang Heng paused, "at least in this novel."
"Then you will get a great story," Fitzgerald said.
"A magnificent epic of adventurers." Asimov also pushed up his glasses.
"It's an unprecedented bestseller," the fantasy best-selling female author exclaimed.
"It's all thanks to your help. If it weren't for all of you teaching me how to write and showing me the right path, I wouldn't have been able to do this alone." Zhang Heng put away the outline and thanked all the authors.
After that, he went to the door of room 515 alone, knocked on the door three times, inserted a copper key into the door lock, and twisted it gently.
He had done this many times, so he was very familiar with it. After entering the living room, he did not stop and went straight to the study room.
For the first time, Lovecraft didn't help others with their changes, nor did he compose his own works. He kept the old typewriter on the bookshelf, and placed a small bottle of red wine and two glasses on the desk.
The bottle of wine from Lovecraft's grandfather had long been drunk by them. This bottle was a gift from Zhang Heng three days ago.
Lovecraft poured the red wine into the glass, just like when they first met. But today, he wore a suit that he had not taken out for a long time, and he looked more energetic.
When Zhang Heng brought the outline in front of him, Lovecraft put on his glasses and read it eagerly. After a while, he put down the manuscript in his hand. Although he had not drunk his glass of wine, he breathed a long sigh of relief as if he had just finished a whole bottle of fine wine.
"You don't mind if I use the settings you made before to write the story?" Zhang Heng was a little surprised.
"Of course not. I like to have authors to help me perfect and fill in my world. In fact, many of my pen pals who have corresponded with me have used this setting to write stories." Lovecraft shrugged.
"What about the ending? Can you accept the ending?" Zhang Heng asked. "After all, the ending of the story I created is not the same as the stories you wrote before."
"If it was before I met you, I would feel that this is a bit against my consistent aesthetic. Because in the stories I created, no matter how the protagonists resist, they will be shrouded in greater despair in the end. You are the first person to write the story after that. Although you borrowed my system, it is actually a story about a person who is shrouded in despair and knows that he can't escape, and how he uses all his strength to fight against fate!"
Lovecraft seemed to be thinking about how to express himself more accurately. After a while, he continued, "It's like … all the hope in my life is to usher in the final despair, and all the despair in your life is to pave the way for the last glimmer of hope. This is indeed different from the writing style I'm good at, but it doesn't stop me from liking your story. I don't know why. Maybe it's because hope and despair are two sides of the same coin, just like light and darkness. Without either side, the world can't truly become real."
"To be honest," Lovecraft looked into Zhang Heng's eyes, "I think your new story has helped me make up for the last shortcoming in my settings. For this alone, I should also propose a toast to you." Lovecraft raised the glass in his hand.
Zhang Heng also raised his own. "To the fear of the unknown."
"To the human's unyielding courage," 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.
At this point, he had completed most of his plan. There was only one thing left — the emotion he lacked.
After bidding farewell to Hemingway, Lovecraft, and the others, the last person Zhang Heng went to was none other than the hobbit housekeeper.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" The hobbit housekeeper was as polite as ever, putting down the vase in her hand.
Her racial talent allowed her to make almost no sound no matter where she went or what she was doing. In fact, she had been in the hall all this while, but few of the passing writers noticed her.
"Yes, I want to see someone," Zhang Heng said.
"Who?" The hobbit housekeeper asked. "I will try my best to meet your request, but other than the writers in the manor and us servants, I can't help you bring in anyone from the outside."
"But there's one person who can." Zhang Heng didn't beat around the bush and went straight to the point. "I want to see Conseil, the butler who received me before I came to this manor. He's also a member of the service staff. Can you help me find him?"
"You want to see him?" The hobbit housekeeper was a little surprised.
"That's right," Zhang Heng said. "In Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Conseil was always by the side of the protagonist, Professor Aronnax, and he walked the entire journey with him. So, I guess the relationship between me and Conseil shouldn't be limited to our first meeting."
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