It’s important to seize the opportunity, and with professional skills and solid techniques, naturally, you can achieve excellent results. However, fifteen seconds is still too short; you need to patiently wait for a year. In the anti, you can write jokes, scripts, create personas, and register a studio account.
After much consideration, Hua Yan eventually decided to do it herself, and then she could ask actors from Liang An’s agency to co and shoot.
The reason for registering a studio account is also to avoid prematurely exposing her identity; managing these two accounts separately makes categorization easier.
Thus, she added a task to her routine: editing jokes and scripts, starting her planning and preparation based on keywords like mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, girlfriends, roommates, betrothal gift, workplace, and full-ti mothers that are popular nowadays.
At the sa ti, she registered the official account of [Miss Yan] on the platform and began to create so motivational articles and life experiences, as well as so new dia articles that keep pace with current events. Moreover, it included various materials she had previously written such as travel guides and food recomndations. She didn’t rush to find people to promote it but used Weibo, novel creation, and short video app platforms for various inflows and diversions. Of course, initially, there isn’t much traffic, and traffic slowly builds over ti.
In the future, her writing direction may focus on creating on the official account platform, provided she has enough traffic. Thus, for traffic, all her social accounts need to be active.
Of course, this can also help gain followers; as long as future short video platforms are established, she won’t worry about not getting traffic.
Hua Yan has a certain obsessive-compulsive tendency; whatever she does, she does it wholeheartedly. If she fails, she herself feels unsatisfied.
So every Sunday, she can wear herself out to the point where she’ll retreat to space just to get so sleep.
The busy days always fly by, especially for soone like her who wishes she could split into two or three people to do different things. Every minute feels too precious to waste and never enough.
Now, as Beijing entered November, it’s getting colder. Over here in Oak Bay, she and Ning Hao haven’t turned on the heating, saving several thousand yuan.
Ning Hao is spending his winter break at his grandma’s house, whereas she has her space, so turning it on or off doesn’t really matter to her.
One day, Hua Yan received a call from an unfamiliar number. She looked at the number, frowned, instinctively unwilling to answer, but worried it might be sothing important.
"Hello, who’s this?"
"Yanyan, it’s Dad." It turned out her bad feeling was right.
Before she could hang up the call, the voice on the other end sounded hoarse: "Can you go back to see your grandma? She’s not doing well and wants to see you."
"Sorry, I don’t have ti, and I don’t think it has anything to do with . We’ve already severed our relationship, let alone with those unrelated people?"
"She is your biological grandma! How can she be unrelated?"
"Ha? Biological grandma? Did you misunderstand sothing? From childhood to adulthood, have I ever eaten a single piece of sugar or a bowl of rice from her? And you call her a biological grandma? When you say that, what images appear in your mind?"
"Back when my mom was with you, you had nothing. Even so, that Old Lady kept comparing her to rural won from her village, constantly scolding my mom for eating, drinking, and using your things."
"Forget it, I don’t want to bring up these past grievances with you. If you could even lay hands on my mom, talking to you about these things is aningless and unnecessary."
"You can forget about it; I won’t go back. Not today, not ever. Even if you die, I won’t return. Don’t co looking for again."
Imdiately, without waiting for Hua Guoqiang’s response, she hung up the call. Not satisfied, she even added the number to the blacklist.
Hua Guoqiang tried calling again, only to find he couldn’t get through; deep down, he knew why.
His heart was truly in agony. If he told everyone that his wife wasn’t intentionally run over by him, would anyone believe him?
At that ti, he was nervous when discovered, mistakenly stepped on the gas, and in those few seconds, the tragedy occurred.
How could he not feel guilty? She was the wife he painstakingly wooed. Even though he cheated first, he never intended to take her life.
But now she’s dead, the company he worked hard for over ten years is gone, his daughter doesn’t recognize him, his son is nowhere to be found, he’s penniless. When he was released from prison, even his fare back ho was advanced by the prison guard because there was no one to pick him up, and in such destitute circumstances, he couldn’t even go ho.
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