妈的，这叫什么事儿！我张小曼上辈子顶多就是个街角小卖部老板，就为这事被气得掀了桌子，结果板凳没抄稳，脚底下一空，砸进一片古色古香的木头地板上。

疼！遭不住地疼。

哎哟我的妈呀，这手 Contemporary Author Thought flowed naturally, her fingers tapping out a rapid-fire rhythm on the keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen. She could feel the characters coming to life as she typed, their struggles and triumphs mirroring her own experiences. She imagined readers pouring over her books, finding solace and adventure in the worlds she created.

Mom always said I wasn't teaching my daughter right, that she hadn't brought her up properly. And here she was, giving her neighbor's son a hand-knitted sweater! I couldn't believe my eyes. So I flew off the handle and knocked over the table. Just as I grabbed a chair to throw, I got a good kicking in the guts. When I finally caught my breath, I was in the middle of an ancient palace, a useless, rejected crown prince's consort.

The air reeked of incense and faintewas a system?