Su Qiao put away the mocking smile on her face and said expressionlessly, "No!"
Hmph. If I didn't let him properly enjoy himself, he probably wouldn't reflect.
Li Jingtai had no choice.
Pleading from the left didn't work, and pleading from the right didn't work. For now, he could only leave things as they were.
Once she calmed down, perhaps things would get better.
Holding on to that hope, Li Jingtai gave up on trying to persuade her further.
"Then can you give me my computer back? I want to write a novel."
"Dream on." This guy was a homebody to begin with. When he wrote novels, he could sometimes hole up at home for several days.
Su Qiao's goal was to make him properly reflect, so how could she possibly give him his computer?
She walked straight to the desk by the window, took a stack of A4 paper and a ballpoint pen from it, and tossed them to him.
"Stay here quietly and honestly reflect. When you've written a Self-Reflection Letter that satisfies me, I'll let you out."
"Oh, right. The Self-Reflection Letter has to be at least three hundred thousand words, it must be heartfelt, and you can't repeat yourself."
"Of course, most importantly, it has to satisfy me."
"A three-hundred-thousand-word Self-Reflection Letter?" And he couldn't repeat himself?
Li Jingtai felt like crying.
This was a Self-Reflection Letter, not a novel with a plot.
Three hundred thousand words, and he had to write it by hand. When would he ever finish?
But what else could he do?
He had fallen into her hands. What could he do except write?
Li Jingtai took a deep breath. "How am I supposed to know what will satisfy you? What if you deliberately say you're not satisfied?"
If she deliberately said