Chapter 641 Hear
There is a point where Dazhe has begun to admire No. 18. That's when Dazhe discovered that she could stare motionless for more than an hour.
As for whether No. 18 blinked or something like that, it is unknown - if it takes such a long time to keep an eye on a so-called financial owner, and it may even take much longer, then Dazhe feels that the job of the Black Soul Messenger is definitely A chore.
But having said that, this man named Zhu Maolin is indeed what his subordinates thought, a workaholic.
Such a person is probably the company boss's favorite general, right? Just because the boss of the company likes it doesn't mean that the people below will like it.
"On the 18th, is this guest difficult to deal with?" Dazhe finally couldn't help but ask.
At this time, No. 18 just turned his head slowly, glanced at Dazhe, and then continued to look at Zhu Maolin, who was having a meeting all night, without saying anything. Dazhe felt bored and had to look around.
In Dazhe's view, No. 18 was completely mysterious... But to No. 18, she was just confused about something - the purpose of the potential sponsor approved by the new owner this time.
In fact, when she turned back the time to the way before she went back to the club, the man in front of her was just a random person on the 18th. He just happened to pass by. I felt that this man's soul power was pretty good, so I made a photo of him. White card.
Naturally, Zhu Maolin could not compare with the other sponsors she was looking for - although the information cards for the other sponsors were not necessarily very serious, it was certain that they took more effort than the one in front of her. There is a lot more to do casually.
The new owner actually approved this donor, who is a little more ordinary compared to the others... Is this a warning about my work attitude?
On the other hand, now that she had been observing Zhu Maolin for some time, she felt like she had no idea where to start. It's not because of lack of ability. To deal with ordinary people, a dark soul messenger like her with a long experience has too many methods - but the problem is that there are too many methods, but she doesn't know which method is better.
She also told Dazhe that the Black Soul Messenger had his own preferences - obviously, Zhu Maolin was not her preferred type.
Or maybe...because this time he needs to guide the new Dark Soul Messenger Dazhe, so the new master will choose Zhe who seems to be more common and easier to start with, just as a tutorial?
In fact, this actually reveals a deeper meaning... The new owner doesn't want Dazhe to be influenced by my style?
Complicating a doubt is the most irrational thing you can do - Dark Souls 18 knows this. However, this is not someone else after all, but the one who is her master.
The new owner might just take it out casually and have no further meaning...but what if there is?
Black soul messengers are born with a reverence for their masters that they cannot control - they are in awe of the person who holds the shop owner's throne... to be more precise, this throne.
No. 18 felt that she was trapped in a strange thinking circle. Reason told her that this might be just a simple business, but her intuition reminded her that it was not that simple.
But she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder, and her body suddenly atomized and then retreated, gathering back again one meter away.
I saw Dazhe's arm still raised in the air, looking quite at a loss.
"What are you doing?" No. 18 asked coldly.
Dazhe shook his head and said: "I just want to ask you, do you want something to drink?"
He was still holding two bottles of green tea in his hand and explained: "I just saw that you were too serious, so I walked away and bought it."
"Dark souls don't need to eat." No. 18 said calmly.
Dazhe shrugged, "But you still have taste, right? If you don't eat... isn't it very pitiful? Okay... whatever you want, I'll put it here. If you want to drink it, just get it yourself."
"Boring." No. 18 threw off his sleeves and continued to observe Zhu Maolin, "Also, don't touch me casually in the future, forget it this time. Zhanlu won't be able to protect you next time!"
In a tone of malicious warning, the key pendant around Dazhe's neck buzzed, as if he was quite dissatisfied with this provocation.
(Zhan Lu: Come on! Come and hurt each other!)
So how long are you going to keep staring at people... Dazhe leaned against the wall, yawned, and then glanced at Zhu Maolin who was waving a pen on the projection screen. He saw the ring on his ring finger and muttered: " This guy, if he doesn’t go home, he won’t be able to call his wife..."
……
……
"That's it."
It was almost two o'clock in the morning, Zhu Maolin looked at all the employees in his team and said: "The candidate for the reshoot has been finalized. Tboy, please contact her early tomorrow morning. It is best to have her come to the set in the afternoon. As for the script , I’ll prepare...Thank you for your hard work, get off work.”
The city is very quiet late at night. Some people drag their tired figures away, while others return to their seats, pull out their stools, cover themselves with clothes, and then refuse to move.
Zhu Maolin looked at the time and drove away.
He kind of forgot when he started to like such a quiet night, without having to worry about traffic jams on the road, and without the dazzling sunlight. The city seemed to be falling asleep before his eyes.
But he is still thinking about the script for the small film he will shoot tomorrow. At this time, he only has a vague prototype in his mind, and he has not yet been able to grasp the specific details.
Soon after, he parked his car in front of a convenience store in front of the park. Earlier, he asked his employees to buy late-night snacks, but he didn't eat them. Now he felt hungry, so he went directly to the convenience store.
Finally, he bought a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of coffee before returning to his car.
Smoking a cigarette, "Scarborough-Fair" was playing on the car stereo.
He slowly closed his eyes, and his mind began to relax, as if he was exiled to the Bayinbulak grassland, which was the place where he was born.
bite--!
The reminder tone of the text message on his mobile phone suddenly pulled Zhu Maolin's thoughts from the vast grassland back to the mobile phone in the car in front of the park. He took a look.
Wife: Are you still working overtime?
Zhu Maolin: Still not asleep?
Wife: I’m thirsty and have a drink of water, but you didn’t reply.
Zhu Maolin: Yeah. There will be reshoots tomorrow and we are still at the company. You should rest first.
Wife: Yeah.
Zhu Maolin: Good night.
Wife: Good night.
Zhu Maolin breathed a sigh of relief, and the slightly astringent taste of coffee brought him a little energy. He opened his laptop, put it on his legs, opened the document, and started writing the script in his mind.
—Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
- Cilantro, sage, rosemary and thyme...
This was the only voice accompanying him.
……
……
Good night.
——Ask her to find me an acre of land
- Cilantro, sage, rosemary and thyme
——Right between the sea and the coast
This was also the only sound that accompanied her to sleep...in this double bed. (End of chapter)