What Are You Doing

Chu Miaomiao's room was quite spacious, with an attached bathroom, totaling about thirty square meters.

Lin Mo wasn't visiting for the first time, so he casually took a seat on a pink gaming chair, glancing around at the plush toys scattered across the room.

The most eye-catching one, a Chopper plush on the bed, was something Lin Mo had won for her at an arcade last time.

At the moment, the room's owner was crouched by the desk, rummaging through a drawer for something.

"You still write your drafts in a notebook?" Lin Mo asked offhandedly.

"Nope, I'm just looking for a USB drive. I saved the draft on it."

Lin Mo almost remarked that no one would bother stealing a novice writer's work these days, but he swallowed the words—they sounded a bit too harsh.

Instead, he reached over and pressed the computer's power button.

The boot-up took over a minute.

Damn!

"Loot drops? No big deal! Come at me, bro!"

"Honey! I want the Ring of Power!"

"One hit for 998! The legendary comeback starts now!"

A barrage of browser game ads popped up one after another, accompanied by deafening sound effects, turning the screen into a chaotic online marketplace.

Lin Mo's lips twitched as he relied on muscle memory to locate the tiny "X" on each ad window.

Yet more tabs kept appearing.

Chu Miaomiao finally lifted her head from under the desk, cheeks slightly flushed. "Sorry, just close them one by one."

Lin Mo glanced down, inadvertently landing on a rather revealing angle.

Her normal outfit, pressed against her knees, accentuated curves that spilled slightly from her already snug neckline.

His gaze lingered for all of 0.1 seconds before he politely averted his eyes to the ceiling, though his mind was in turmoil.

That was... an overwhelming presence. Too intimidating to look at directly.

He decided to focus on giving the computer a thorough cleanup.

His mouse flew across the screen as he navigated the control panel's program list with ease.

Kingsoft Antivirus? Deleted.

Rising Antivirus? Gone.

QQ PC Manager? Bye-bye.

One by one, he eradicated the root causes of the pop-ups, showing no mercy.

Once the purge was complete, he deftly downloaded the king of all bloatware—360 Safe Guardian.

Sure, it was a rogue program itself, but it was the best at dealing with other rogues.

The installer had barely finished when the security software auto-launched, like a beast awakening to patrol its territory.

Moments later, a flurry of notifications popped up in the bottom-right corner—countless ad plugins and malicious software had been obliterated.

This computer would bow to only one overlord.

Satisfied, Lin Mo dove into the settings, disabling all pop-up reminders and startup items, taming the rogue guardian into a silent sentinel.

"Done!"

He turned to find Chu Miaomiao still crouched by the CPU, one hand clutching a USB drive and the other pressed to her forehead, locked in a desperate struggle with the port.

"Why don't you grab a chair?"

"I... I'm trying to plug in the USB," she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice.

The USB port was on the front of the tower. After multiple failed attempts—inserting it one way, flipping it, flipping it again—a soft click finally signaled success.

USB drives, with their infuriatingly ambiguous orientation, were truly one of the universe's cruelest mysteries.

Chu Miaomiao finally stood, dusting off her knees before pulling up a chair beside Lin Mo.

Lin Mo opened the USB drive.

"I started writing this after winter break. I read a ton of books to come up with this idea."

She leaned in, barely containing her excitement.

Lin Mo clicked into the folder, and a document name caught his eye: Shadows Drawn.

Not exactly the title of a typical romance novel.

"Wait, what is this?"

"Lately, I've been reading Adventure Squad, Charlie IX, and The Octagram Seal," she explained, instantly animated.

"So I wanted to write something similar. I even researched forensic sketch artists—the protagonist solves crimes through drawing."

Lin Mo studied her bright-eyed enthusiasm, surprised.

This wasn't just a genre shift—it was a leap from one amateur field straight into another.

Well, starting from zero either way.

When it came to writing, Chu Miaomiao was suddenly full of energy.

Lin Mo hadn't expected such a drastic pivot, though.

To put it bluntly, she'd gone from one unfamiliar territory to another.

Still, he opened the document and read carefully.

The story was only a little past the opening, far from complete.

After about fifteen minutes, Lin Mo finished reading.

It was clear she'd studied certain writing techniques.

But this was unmistakably aimed at traditional publishing—not impossible, given Chu Miaomiao's family's wealth.

Self-publishing wouldn't be an issue.

Yet that didn't seem to be her goal.

"Are you aiming for traditional publishing?" Lin Mo asked casually.

Chu Miaomiao thought for a moment, then nodded vigorously.

"Yeah! What do you think?"

Lin Mo shook his head.

"It's not that the story is bad, but your suspense setup is weak.

You introduced the protagonist too thoroughly upfront, giving readers too much framework.

By the time the protagonist demonstrates their skills, there's no surprise left."

"Huh?"

Her disappointment was palpable.

Seeing her deflate, Lin Mo quickly added,

"But the case itself is fresh, and the protagonist's ability is genuinely impressive. The supporting cast is vivid too—you clearly did your research."

Lin Mo recalled a TV series from his past life about a forensic sketch artist.

After a pause, he borrowed some elements from that show.

"First, why would a genius sketch artist solve crimes? There must be a backstory—something driving them to seek answers.

For example, say someone brings them a childhood sketch of a person, asking them to draw what they'd look like grown up.

The artist does it, only to later discover their drawing indirectly caused a narcotics officer's death."

Lin Mo spread his hands.

"See? Now you've got a hook."

Chu Miaomiao's eyes lit up instantly.

"I get it!"

She immediately pulled out a notebook from the drawer, filled with pencil-scribbled outlines and character bios.

Clearly, she took writing seriously.

Lin Mo thought for a moment, then said, "Want me to give you some inspiration?"

He opened a new document and began typing out a simplified version of that TV series from memory.

System: [Host, what the hell are you doing?!]

"What? Can't I be a copycat?"