32、第 32 章

    ShenRuipingsighedandrubbedhistemples.Hehadspenthourspouringhisheartandsoulintothenovel,andtothinkthatitwasallfornothingnowmadehimfeellikehewantedtocollapse.Theprotagonist,ayoungmannamedShenXiong,hadbeentransportedintotheworldofhisownmaking,onlytofindhimselfinaprecarioussituation.Thevillainousmagician,Zhiyan,haddiscoveredShenXiong‘strueidentityandwasdeterminedtokillhim.

    ShenRuipingsatathisdesk,staringblanklyatthepagesofhisnovel.Heknewthathecouldn‘tchangethecourseofeventsnow,butitdidn‘tmeanhecouldn‘ttrytorewritetheending.Afterall,asanauthor,hehadthepowertomanipulatethestoryandgivehimselfahappyending.

    Hetookadeepbreathandbegantotypeoutanewconclusionforhisnovel.Ashewrote,hefeltasenseofdeterminationwashoverhim.HewasnotgoingtoletZhiyanwin.HewouldfindawaytodefeathimandsaveShenXiong‘slife.

    ButjustasShenRuipingwasgettingintothezone,heheardafaintvoiceinhismind.ItwasShenXionghimself,butnotashehadexpected.TheyoungmanwhohadbeentransportedintotheworldofthenovelwasnowspeakingtoShenRuipingfromwithinhisownmind.

    “What‘sgoingon?“ShenRuipingaskedaloud,startled.

    “I‘myou,“ShenXiongreplied,hisvoiceweakanddistant.“Atleast,I‘myourconsciousness.I‘vebeentrappedinthisbodyforwhatfeelslikeaneternity.“

    ShenRuiping‘seyeswidenedinshock.Hehadneverexpectedthistohappen.

    “Whydidyoeback?“heasked,hismindracingwithquestions.

    “Iwantedtohelp,“ShenXiongsaid,hisvoicefilledwithdetermination.“IknowthatI‘mnotsupposedtobehere,butIcouldn‘tjustsitbackandwatchyoudie.I‘vebeentryingtofindawaytoescapethisprisonforsolong.“

    ShenRuipingfeltasurgeofgratitudetowardshisprotagonist.HehadneverconsideredthepossibilityofShenXiong‘sconsciousnesstryingtohelphim.

    “Whatdoyouneedmetodo?“heasked,hismindracingwithpossibilities.

    “Ineedyoutokeepwriting,“ShenXiongsaid,hisvoicefilledwithurgency.“Iknowthatitsoundscrazy,butIbelievethatifwecankeepmovingforward,wemightbeabletofindawayoutofthissituation.“

    ShenRuipingnodded,eventhoughheknewthatShenXiongcouldn‘tseehim.

    “I‘lldoit,“hesaid,determinationcoursingthroughhisveins.“I‘llwriteourwayoutofthismess.“

    Andwiththat,ShenRuipingsatbackdownathisdeskandbegantotypeonceagain.Thistime,however,heknewthathewasn‘tjustwritingastory-hewaswritingtheirlives.

    Asthehourspassed,ShenRuipingfoundhimselfbingmoreandmoreimmersedintheworldofhisnovel.HefeltlikehewaslivingthroughShenXiong‘sexperiences,anditwasexhilarating.Hewrotefeverishly,determinedtogiveShenXiongthebestchanceatsurvivalpossible.

    Butasthesunbegantosetonanotherday,ShenRuipingrealizedthathehadbeensocaughtupinhiswritingthathehadn‘tevennoticedthetime.Helookedupfromhisdeskandsawthathisphonewasblowingupwithtextsfromhisfriends.

    “Hey,wherehaveyoubeen?“oneofthemasked.“orriedaboutyou.“

    ShenRuipingsighedandrubbedhiseyes.Hehadforgottenallabouttherealworldoutsideofhisnovel.

    “I‘mfine,“hesaid,tryingtosoundnonchalant.“Justalittleoverwhelmedwithworkrightnow.“

    Hisfriendsnoddedsympathetically.“Well,we‘rehereforyouifyouneedus,“oneofthemsaid.

    ShenRuipingsmiledandthankedthem.Heknewthattheywerejustbeingkind,butitmadehimfeelbetter.

    Ashehungupthephone,ShenRuipingcouldn‘thelpbutthinkabouthowsurrealhislifehadbe.Hewasanauthor,trappedinaworldoffantasy,withaprotagonistwhowasalsohisownconsciousness.Itwascrazy,buthewouldn‘ttradeitforanything.

    Hewentbacktohisdesk,feelingmorerefreshedandfocusedthaneverbefore.Heknewthattheroadaheadwouldbedifficult,buthewasreadyforwhatevercamenext.

    Andashebegantowriteonceagain,ShenRuipingfeltasenseofexcitementandanticipationbuildinginsidehim.Whatlayahead?WouldtheybeabletodefeatZhiyanandsaveShenXiong‘slife?Onlytimewouldtell.