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Ling Pingan held the freshly brewed tea in his hands as he sat at the counter and sighed.

That night, he had overturned all the results of his efforts on the previous night.

The reason was quite simple.

He read the manuscript once and felt that it was awkward.

So, he knew that he would definitely fail.

He looked at the document that had been deleted again on the screen and sighed. "Writing a new book gives me a headache!"

"If I had known, I wouldn't have written the ending for the previous book..."

This way, he could continue working by fits and starts while spending his day happily.

He didn't need to spare some time every day to write the beginning of the novel, like what he was doing.

He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was already eleven o'clock.

Ling Pingan stood up and walked to the door of the shop. He was about to close the door and head upstairs to sleep.