"Lord Wuchang, where is this?"
Yang Siming asked cautiously.
He drooped his shoulders, shivering.
This place was too eerie, cold, like air conditioning in winter.
Jiang Lin glanced at him, "This is where you write novels."
After speaking, he took the lead.
Yang Siming looked around, shivered, and quickly followed.
With a creak, the door to the Shumo Zhai was opened.
The space inside was vast, filled with many desks.
Some ghosts were holding brushes, writing something, surrounded by a group of burly men.
They were either reading books or looking at the papers the ghosts were writing.
The moment the door opened, the ghosts inside looked over in unison.
Their faces were all expressionless.
Yang Siming was so scared he took a step back, almost passing out.
"So it's Lord Wuchang, please have a seat."
Seeing Jiang Lin, all the burly men stood up and came closer.
Rubbing their hands, they showed honest smiles on their rough faces, "My lord, if there's anything we can help with, please don't hesitate to command us."
Jiang Lin nodded and pulled Yang Siming, who was behind him, forward.
"From today onwards, he will also write novels here. I'll pick him up in seven days."
The leading burly man glanced at the trembling Yang Siming and patted his chest, assuring,
"My lord, rest assured, leave it to us!"
"Mm."
Jiang Lin nodded, then turned to Yang Siming, "Remember, you only have seven days."
"Lord Wuchang, I, I, I..."
Yang Siming trembled, wanting to follow Jiang Lin out.
"Brother, come this way."
The leading burly man stepped forward, put his arm around Yang Siming's shoulder, and led him inside.
"Come, let me introduce you, this will be your writing desk from now on."
Jiang Lin didn't plan to stay long. The moment he turned to leave.
The ghosts writing at the desks inside all showed expressions of terror.
And the burly men surrounding the desks, either bent over or floated to the roof beams.
They all took out their weapons.
Some had clubs, some had axes, and some had ropes.
The burly men looked at the authors at the desks, showing friendly smiles.
Creak.
The door to the Shumo Zhai closed.
The viewers in the live stream felt something was wrong when they saw the authors show fear.
Upon seeing the burly men taking out their weapons one by one, their eyes widened.
"Good heavens! So this is what they were waiting for!"
"Holy crap! What are they going to do?"
"I know, are they going to write blood letters?"
"Damn, that's how blood letters are made?!"
In response to the viewers' confusion, Jiang Lin explained,
"Nothing will go wrong, this is a professional update-chasing team."
"There are many who enjoy stories in the underworld. Because ghosts don't need much sleep, Da Feng Novels."
"When they can't sleep halfway through a story, some ghosts go directly to the author's doorstep to wait."
"Originally, they just wanted to see new content as soon as possible, but over time, more and more people started waiting at the door."
"Later, authors would be followed even when they went out or went shopping, urging them to update faster."
"Gradually, these people spontaneously formed an update-chasing team."
"When the underworld ghosts found out, they invited the authors they were chasing to come over."
"Now, this group has become a relatively professional update-chasing team."
As if in response to Jiang Lin's words.
The next moment, sounds of clanging and banging came from the Shumo Zhai behind him.
"Write faster! Stop picking at your fingernails, what's so good about that?!"
"Why are you looking at him? Does his face have a story?"
Clang!
"You are all talents of our underworld, you can write and tell stories! Our lives depend on you, keep it up!"
"Pick up your pen and start writing! If you don't strive now, when will you?"
"Those who finish three chapters within an hour will get extra chicken legs for their next meal!"
Listening to the sounds coming from inside, and thinking of the burly men's physiques and weapons.
The viewers in the live stream swallowed their saliva, the scene immediately came to life.
Indeed, a professional team, using both soft and hard tactics, and getting chicken legs if they write well.
"I can't hold it in anymore hahahahahahahaha!"
"Since entering the underworld professional update-chasing team, I no longer have to worry about authors delaying updates~"
"Keep up the good work, author! I have full confidence in you (doge)."
The viewers were surprised to learn about such a team in the underworld and felt they had learned something new.
At the same time, some who enjoyed chasing dramas, books, and comics felt a pang of envy.
They wished they could have a professional update-chasing team for their favorite authors, updating ten or eight chapters a day.
Inside the Shumo Zhai.
Yang Siming had just sat down trembling when a burly man shoved a stack of white paper at him.
"Here, see which kind of pen you prefer?"
Yang Siming looked back and saw a row of various pens.
Felt pens, pencils, ballpoint pens, colored pens, all kinds were available.
He chose a ballpoint pen.
The burly man immediately put away the other pens and patted his shoulder with a smile,
"Keep it up. If you run out of ink, tell us anytime. If you're hungry or cold, you can tell us too, we're all friends."
Yang Siming heard this and his heart filled with anticipation, "Can I, can I rest for a bit? I..."
Before he could finish, he saw the burly man narrow his eyes, looking somewhat sinister.
"Brother, we are ghosts, resting isn't that important, is it? You know?"
Yang Siming swallowed and nodded.
The burly man continued kindly, "If you want to rest, or stretch your arms and legs, that's fine, but now is writing time. Look, everyone is writing, aren't they?"
Yang Siming could only nod again.
"Then let's start writing, I want to see what story you're writing."
Yang Siming picked up the pen tremblingly, looking at the white paper in front of him, his mind was blank.
How many years had it been since he last wrote by hand?
He couldn't remember.
What was the plot?
Where had he left off?
When would Lord Wuchang return?
Bang!
A loud noise brought Yang Siming's drifting thoughts back.
He looked up and saw the burly man beside him holding a mace.
Smiling kindly, he looked at him, "Keep it up~"
Yang Siming swallowed again, and his peripheral vision caught sight of other authors.
Those authors were all surrounded by several burly men holding weapons.
He looked at the white paper in front of him and slowly forced out a few words.
Chapter 103.