AI copywriting?All copied wrong!

"Because you are a strong man in his twenties with strong male hormone secretion, and in the past two months, female benefactors such as pretty widows and beautiful women from nearby have been visiting you every now and then, throwing themselves at you and making secret glances at you. At night, I hope you will escort me down the mountain on the grounds that I am scared in the dark.

"Although you adhere to your male virtues, protect your chastity, and draw clear lines of communication with them, your biological instinct makes you restless and difficult to calm down. This is normal."

The depressed and familiar voice said: "But they come to me. This is an inevitable objective influence. All I can do is to reject them subjectively."

The old voice said: "Exactly."

The depressed and familiar voice suddenly came to light:

"In other words, since I can't change them, I can only change myself...

"I can't stop them from looking for me, but I can stop myself from being agitated by my biological instincts!

"Male hormones come from the testicles. Master, do you think I should cut off the roots of dust and eradicate worries?"

Yan Yao couldn't help but twitch the corners of her mouth.

She couldn't bear it anymore, took out her mobile phone and searched, then stepped into the temple and said:

"Hey, that's good. When will you have the resection surgery? I'll help you find a hospital right now."

In the small temple, an old monk and a young man turned around to look. The old monk looked like a dead tree, and the young man... had his head shaved.

Although he has a shaved head, he has no ring scars, and his face is very handsome. His body is like a double-door refrigerator, and he looks very masculine.

"Yan Yao?" The young man was stunned, then surprised and sad, "The magazine has finally closed down. Are you going to become a monk too?"

Yan Yao pretended not to hear and said to herself:

“I’m going to have a surgery anyway, why not just have sex reassignment surgery and experience a different life.

"I think this transgender hospital is good. It also has a discount. The second one is half price..."

Chapter 41: Really patient

Yan Yao said, turning the phone over.

Song Ze had good eyesight. He squinted his eyes and saw that "The second one is half price" was indeed written on the screen.

"Anything like this?"

His eyes lit up and he looked at the old monk eagerly:

"Master, do we want to go together? Six-root purification is only half price!"

"..." The old monk smiled bitterly and shook his head, "I am useless in the first place. It makes no difference whether I cut it or not."

"That's it."

Song Ze felt regretful at first, then figured it out and was happy for him:

"Then you saved a lot of money, congratulations."

Old monk: "..."

He looked at Yan Yao: "Is the donor here to take him away?"

Yan Yao nodded expressionlessly.

The old monk tiredly pointed to the door:

"Hurry up, or I really want to kill someone."

At first, I thought that by being admitted to the temple, I would have a strong young man who could work hard and be an assistant.

He could safely leave it to Song Ze to do things he didn't normally do, such as fetching water.

Facts have proved that it can indeed be handed over to Song Zeqian.

It's just a little tiring.

In just two and a half months, he replaced six or seven wooden buckets. Either they were damaged due to knocks, or they were forgotten when he came back after a rest and couldn't find them again.

He was asked to handle small tasks such as lighting candles, burning firewood, and cooking meals. The small temple was almost burned down by him, and one of the earthen walls is still completely black.

If nothing works, then pick up a broom and sweep the floor. Logically speaking, this should be fine, right?

something wrong.

Song Ze swept the floor as if he were scraping three feet, and after sweeping the soil was three feet thinner.

The piled-up soil and the fetched water were used to create a simple and abstract clay statue of the Buddha.

He proudly said to the old monk, "Master, we also have a Buddha statue in the temple, where should we place it?"

The old monk, who had just returned from performing religious duties, looked at the clay sculptures of clay dolls that were more twisted and frightening than ghosts, and then looked at the dirty water tank where the mud was mixed, and fell silent.

Go get the broom without saying a word.

Song Ze was quite happy and puzzled: "Master, do you want to put a broom in its hand? No, it is a Buddha statue, not a snowman."

The old monk turned around and raised his broom: "I'll scan your code!"

What kind of person is this?

This is a husky destroying a domestic dog and turning it into a spirit!

In just two and a half months, his temple was almost demolished!

His old heart is almost broken!

……

After listening to the old monk’s blood and tears accusation.

Yan Yao also fell silent.

Her Gujing Wubo expression finally changed, and she looked at the tears in the corners of the old monk's eyes with sympathy.

The boy does not cry easily.

Just not to the sad place!

Only Song Ze was stunned:

"Huh? Why don't I apologize and fix it afterwards?"

"You apologized and got it done, but my heart hurts too." The old monk wiped away his tears, covered his heart and took a deep breath.

No, I was so angry that not only my heart ached, but my liver hurt, my stomach hurt, and my head hurt. I had to grow four hands to cover it up.

He said to Yan Yao:

"If you come here half a month later, you may only see him or me in prison."

Two people have to have one.

Yan Yao nodded sincerely: "Thank you for your hard work!"

... a moment later.

Song Ze, who was expelled from the small temple, was forced to go back down the mountain with Yan Yao carrying large and small bags.

"Is the magazine still alive?" he asked.

"Thanks to you, I'm still alive."

Yan Yao's tone was indifferent and her words were thorny:

"You shouldn't die. On the eve of almost not being able to collect all the manuscripts, the publication will be suspended, and then the club will be abolished... I met a very talented writer and teacher to submit a manuscript."

"So lucky?" Song Ze was surprised and delighted.

"So I want to take you, the president, to meet him. The original plan was to invite him during the summer vacation, find a summer resort together for vacation, and then lock him into a small single room... Oh, he is not a pigeon, there is no need to do this."

Yan Yao was very pleased with Tang Ping as she talked.

I can always deliver the manuscript several days before the deadline. Unlike other writers who are rushed and just "write and write" and "finish it immediately" and "I am already studying the fairy tale for the next issue." "...

In fact, the document is not even opened.

When the line is dead, bow at 90 degrees: "Red bean paste private Marseille dad is great!"

Even if the manuscript is submitted, the quality is not satisfactory at first glance, but due to the dead line, there is no way to go back and make changes, so I will just use it while pinching my nose.

Look at other writers, and then look at Tang Ping.

Yan Yao almost burst into tears with gratitude. How could there be such a peerless writer?

She told Song Ze a brief experience of meeting Teacher Guan Ai, and then took out two journals, 66 and 67, and handed them to Song Ze to read.

Song Ze watched as he walked, and the president was amazed all the way. He raised his head excitedly after reading:

"A writer who wrote such a powerful fairy tale, you said he is only 18 years old?

"Genius, he is definitely a fairy tale genius!"

"Not only that, but also this." Yan Yao raised the corners of her mouth slightly and handed out her mobile phone in a show-off mood.

On the screen of the mobile phone is the document of "Snow White (not yet finished)".

Song Ze took it and read it carefully.

I was so excited that I couldn’t help myself.

"What's down there, what's down there, what's down there?"

"This is the manuscript for issue 68, and Teacher Guan Ai hasn't finished it yet," Yan Yao said lightly, "He showed it to me in advance, and I think it's very good."

"Not only is it very good, it is beyond good, the third best in the world!"

Song Ze was overjoyed. With this fairy tale, why worry about the revival of "The Dove of Peace"?

And very puzzled:

"But if such a powerful writer didn't go to "Fairy Tale Empire" to make a name for himself, why would he come to our small magazine that is about to close down?"

Yan Yao said:

"I mentioned it when I was chatting with him. He said that he originally submitted it to "Fairytale Empire", but it didn't make it through the draft, and then he just randomly submitted it to someone with a quick response.

"I guess that his manuscript should be assigned to 'Jie Ao'. That person is only responsible for the works that have a good impression at first glance. If you don't take a look at it at first glance, you won't read it carefully, because 'readers won't pay attention to it.'" Patience second to ordinary works'.”

She said, half smiling:

"Although from his point of view, this is right, after all, he vomits after seeing the manuscript every day, and he doesn't have much time to review it carefully.

"But I should really thank "Fairy Tale Empire" for its submission allocation and its review criteria, otherwise it would not have been my turn to be lucky enough to miss it."

"Hmm... Indeed." Song Ze read "Snow White" repeatedly.

He nodded in agreement with emotion:

"I have to thank you!

"Turn back, I'm going back to the temple to offer him three sticks of incense!"

"Ah!"

In the editorial department of Fairy Tale Empire Magazine, Li Aojie, who was critically reviewing manuscripts with a frown and cold eyes, suddenly sneezed heavily and his body shivered with coldness.

"Have a cold?"

The maid next to him opened the drawer and broke out three cold medicines for him:

"Take your medicine quickly. If you fall ill, you won't be able to finish your work."

"really."

Li Aojie drank coffee, swallowed cold medicine, and exhaled.

After interrupting his work, he raised his wrist to look at the time on his watch.

"It's been several days and hours, and 'Care' still hasn't submitted an article to me?

"You're so patient."

Chapter 42 "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs"?

In the classroom, in the classroom.

The weather turned gloomy, the light was insufficient, the atmosphere was gloomy, and the only sound in the classroom was the dull lecture of the physics teacher.

Tang Ping fell asleep in class.