On Friday, there was a mathematics test, and Jiang Baocu actually failed.
Sheng Tang was very worried about her: "You’re about to enter senior year, you should focus on your studies. Those things can wait until after you graduate from high school."
"The current market is good, and the opportunities are nice," Jiang Baocu said, "If I take a year off, I might lose my place in the community."
"But every year there are new faces and people who get eliminated," Sheng Tang said, "You can’t make a living out of this forever."
"I’ve emerged this year, what if such an opportunity never comes again?" Jiang Baocu cried out, "I can’t just rely on my parents and aunt forever, I have to do something."
Listening to her words, Sheng Tang felt that she had more foresight than many other girls.
Sheng Tang couldn’t bear to see Jiang Baocu so distressed, and said: "I’ll help you write."
Jiang Baocu’s eyes lit up: "Really?"
"Don’t get too excited, I’ll only help you this time," Sheng Tang said, "You shouldn’t take on any more tasks, focus on doing well on your final exams first."
Jiang Baocu quickly nodded.
Sheng Tang said: "I’ll send it to you tomorrow morning, I’ll write it tonight at home."
Jiang Baocu hugged her shoulder: "Sheng Tang, you’re the best, you’re my savior! You’ve saved me countless times, I should burn incense and bow to you."
Sheng Tang’s eye twitched: "I’m not dead yet!"
Jiang Baocu burst out laughing.
She trusted Sheng Tang immensely: Sheng Tang was exceptionally talented in writing poetry, her poems on Jiang Baocu’s Weibo had millions of views; her songs sold to Lan Fei had become this year’s hottest hits.
She said she’d help write fairy tales, so her fairy tales were bound to cause a sensation.
Jiang Baocu knew Sheng Tang had that ability.
That day, after Sheng Tang returned home from school, she didn’t go to the gym, but instead buried herself in writing her fairy tale.
In her world, there were many wonderful fairy tales, almost all of which she had read as a child were in her mind.
This world also has them, but they’re somewhat different from those in her world. Therefore, Sheng Tang’s fairy tales should bring a fresh feeling to readers.
Thinking this, she buried her head and wrote based on her memory.
After finishing, she polished it a bit, and sent it to Jiang Baocu at around eight the next morning.
Jiang Baocu had woken up early.
She’s the kind of person who can’t sleep once there’s something on her mind.
She received Sheng Tang’s document: "Cinderella."
Cinderella?
What’s this? A girl made of ash?
Currently, there are all kinds of anthropomorphism in the fairy tale world, but none with ash.
"A refreshing perspective," Jiang Baocu thought.
She immediately started reading.
Once she read the beginning, it wasn’t what she had expected.
Jiang Baocu was a bit surprised but continued reading bit by bit.
Her emotions fluctuated with the fairy tale, sometimes worried, sometimes excited.
Especially when Cinderella attended the ball, Jiang Baocu was so excited that she was about to cry; when Cinderella lost the glass slipper, her heart clenched.
At the end, the story concluded beautifully, and Cinderella and the prince lived happily together.
Jiang Baocu felt completely satisfied.
There was no preaching, just a perfect fantasy fairy tale, with a smooth plot and beautiful language.
The story’s setting was very fresh too, looking like a western castle, different from all the current fairy tales.
"It will definitely be a hit!" Jiang Baocu thought.
She might not be good at writing, but she’s good at judging, and she trusts her own judgment.
She sent it to the editor-in-chief.
She thought, if the editor-in-chief disapproves of this article, she would quit completely.
She’d do it herself, no longer cooperating with marketing companies, not relying on their promotions, and taking her time.
Unexpectedly, half an hour later, the editor-in-chief called her.