In the Name of the Queen

The withered sycamore leaves drifted down with the wind, slowly sticking to the window, dyeing the autumn mood golden.

The afterglow of the sun sprinkled into the room, shining on Roland, warm, dispelling the autumn chill, and inducing sleep.

Stretching hard, tilting his head to look at the blank manuscript on the table, the young clerk smiled with self-mockery.

As we all know, there are only three parts of a novel that are difficult to write.

The beginning, the middle and the end.

At this moment, he was worried about the beginning.

He was a clerk in the Imperial Post Office, and his main job was to write for illiterate people.

The work was not busy, and his hobby was to slack off at work, ugh, writing novels.

He longed to be Liu, the electrician in this magical world, slack off at work and write novels, go in and out of the literary salons held by the nobles with his talent, meet beautiful noble ladies, and pay the price of losing troubles while gaining a comfortable life.

However, ideals are as plump as ladies, and reality is as dry as wallets. He was rejected by the publishing house repeatedly.

The first time, he wrote furiously, writing a passionate chapter about a fallen young genius who made a three-year agreement with the pirate leader Red Beard and then fought back.

The editor sneered at this, saying that pirates have no moral bottom line. Who would make a three-year agreement with you if they threw anyone they disliked into the sea to feed the sharks?

The second time, he wrote a story about a brave man defeating a dragon, fighting back and marrying a princess.

Editor: ""

He didn't care about the next plot, but was worried about Roland's mental state.

Roland was a time traveler who had lived in the Sussex Empire for eighteen and a half years. He had never seen his mother since he could remember, and his father, a grassroots officer in the empire, died in the war three years ago.

Perhaps it was because his father's death was too much of a blow. Although Roland inherited his father's fighting talent, he was determined not to join the army or become an independent adventurer, but chose to take the civilian route.

At the coming-of-age ceremony, he unlocked his memories before the time travel, and at the same time unlocked a mysterious soul-bound card.

[Profession: Writer]

[Rank: Ninth Rank]

[Level: Ordinary]

[Ability: Primary Memory]

With the help of primary memory ability, he can recall the books he had come into contact with before crossing. As his ability continues to improve, the content he can recall will gradually increase.

If an ambitious crossover, most people will take out the magical books such as "Friends of Military and Civilian Dual-use Talents" as soon as possible, but Roland has no ambition, only the heart of slacking off.

He chose novels. Wouldn't it be possible to turn these excellent works into great writers in a minute if they were localized in another world? This is the choice that suits the writer's profession.

However, in the Sussex Empire with clear class distinctions, the stories of passionate young people counterattacking and poor boys marrying white and rich beauties are destined to have no market. His literary dream was severely humiliated.

The literary dream can be delayed, but food still needs to be eaten.

Fortunately, the empire still took care of the orphans of soldiers. He inherited the public housing allocated by his father, and he also found a formal job at the post office with the introduction of an acquaintance, so he didn't have to go to the bridge to wipe his tears under the small quilt.

Just as Roland was worried about how to write, a refreshing laugh came from behind him with a fragrant breeze.

"What genius ideas do you have for the future great writer?"

The perfume smell turned into a beautiful big sister in a post office uniform, sitting opposite.

No one hates generous and wealthy big sisters, and Roland is no exception.

The girl's smile was as bright as the sun, causing the collar of the uniform to tremble slightly, dispelling the worries in the boy's heart.

Putting down the un-inked feather pen, Roland smiled and responded, "Miss Lisa, you are in a good mood today."

"Correct it again, it's Sister Lisa! Sister!"

Lisa held her chin with her left hand, and her lake blue eyes were filled with a clear smile.

No matter which time and space standards are used, she is considered beautiful.

The charm of youth came to her face, accompanied by the whisper of the devil.

"Roland, your parents died early, you should learn to be mature like an adult."

Maturity? For example, getting married?

Forgive me!

Traveling to another world and being forced to get married?

He is less than 19 years old!

Direct refusal will only result in more nagging, so Roland simply patted his chest and said passionately, "I don't want to think about these before writing a masterpiece."

"Can I understand this as a declaration of singleness?"

The slender fingers drew an elegant and soft arc, landing accurately in the center of the blank paper.

"The short story submission deadline is today. How many words did our great writer write? Oh my God, it's zero."

Lisa looked at Roland with a bit of regret.

Young people with no status and no money always like to imagine themselves as writers.

If others said this, she would think it was the impetuousness of young people, but Roland was different.

The work of a clerk is tedious, and it is not easy to write letters for others. They often encounter guests who have great difficulty in expressing their ideas.

Some customers spoke with a thick country accent, repeating themselves but not being able to make a few words clear, which was a headache for even a senior clerk like her.

Roland, however, could always understand the customer's intention with a smile and various communication methods, and wrote concise and clear letters, which received rave reviews.

He was talented.

He was full of enthusiasm.

He was very handsome.

Handsome young men were prone to go astray, and as a neighbor's sister who lived in the same house, she had to lead Roland, who had lost his parents' supervision, on the right path.

Young people should be down-to-earth.

For example, marry Miss Elizabeth, who had big legs and a big butt in the Baker Street Alchemy Workshop, and have three, four, five, six, seven or eight children in one go to start a family.

Don't be idle, Roland!

Faced with Lisa's doubts, Roland's cheeks flushed slightly, and he was full of obscure and complex terms such as "as long as the idea is completed, he will write quickly", "the author does not want to write, but is stuck".

The air in the post office suddenly became cheerful.

Lisa was amused and laughed without image.

"Maybe you are right, but there is only one hour left before the deadline, it's too late."

"Who said it's too late, I feel like it, write now!"

Roland's competitive spirit was aroused, he grabbed the feather pen and hovered it above the white paper.

This essay requires the writing to revolve around gods, the royal family, mystery, suspense and gender, the shorter the better.

"First of all, it has to involve gods!"

Roland wrote "Oh my God" on the paper.

God has been found.

Looking at his focused expression, Lisa's indifference at the corner of her mouth inadvertently retracted.

Obviously, Roland is serious.

Roland wrote down the words "Oh my god, the queen is pregnant" in a row according to the theme of the essay contest, and strung them together.

"Oh my god, the queen is pregnant, who did it?"

"Hey, this book title is quite interesting, my curiosity is aroused, come on, come on, what's next?"

Lisa's beautiful big eyes flickered with curiosity, and she urged for more on the spot.

"No more below."

"No more below?"

"Yes, this is the whole novel." Roland's expression was serious.

Lisa was a little angry and reached out to pinch Roland's ears, but was surprised to find that Roland, who was sitting upright, was half a head taller than her. She could no longer treat him like a child, with her fingers frozen in the air.

Roland, who did not notice Lisa's strangeness, put away the manuscript paper and smiled easily.

"Okay, I'll submit it now."

"Wait, what if it fails?" Lisa never forgot to bring Roland back on track.

"Then next time."

"That won't do! If you fail this time, you have to listen to me and at least meet Miss Elizabeth. She is kind, knows alchemy, and is pretty. And she has a big butt that is good at giving birth."

Seeing Roland running away without looking back, Lisa also chased him out the door, "Hey, are you listening?"

Roland's figure flew dozens of meters away.

Maybe he heard it, but he definitely didn't listen.

If he listened.

Finally caught up!

Roland, who finished submitting the manuscript before the publisher got off work, walked on the street, thinking about the editor's question.

"Why not a princess? I think readers should like princesses more."

"Mr. Byron, there are princesses in our country! Defaming the royal family is a capital crime."

Is this damn bald editor trying to harm him?

This essay contest is funded by the royal family. It's okay to write about the queen's pregnancy, but it's definitely not okay to write about the princess.

"Sir, give me a newspaper. Today's news is absolutely explosive!"

The ragged newsboy rushed out like a rabbit, blocked in front of Roland, waving the Sussex Sun in his hand, and loudly sold it to Roland.

If it were any other time, Roland would politely but firmly refuse.

After all, his money was not caught by the wind.

The Sussex Sun is a standard toilet newspaper, and its focus is mainly on the gossip of celebrities in the upper class.

The news reported by this newspaper is rarely accurate, and it is particularly wild.

But today he is in a good mood, he casually took out two pennies and stuffed it into the newsboy, and took the newspaper.

"Shocking news, His Majesty Edward, who is respected by thousands of people, was ambushed by an unidentified enemy when his fleet passed through Southco Bay. His Majesty, the Crown Prince, and Planck's fleet were all killed!"

It is worthy of being a toilet newspaper.

This news is wilder than wild history.

Roland was amused on the spot.

The Sussex Empire is the world's first maritime power, with tens of millions of square kilometers of direct territory.

The fleets ranked second to ninth in the world combined are not enough to beat the Royal Sussex Fleet. This is a consensus of the whole world.

Who dares to attack the Royal Sussex Fleet?

Even if there are such idiots, Admiral Planck is a famous general of the time and will definitely teach them a lesson in a minute.

"Fake News!"

The current affairs news in the toilet newspaper, believing a word is an insult to intelligence.

He crumpled up the newspaper and threw it into the trash can.

What a beautiful day, except for the wasted two pennies.