"Is Mr. Wang here?" Meng Chuan'er asked politely.

"Who are you?"

"Reporter from My Time Weekly."

"Journalist ID."

She handed the certificate to them, but she didn't expect that after reading it, the guy threw it directly to the ground. He raised his face and pointed his chin at Meng Chuan'er, as if he wanted to overwhelm her with his momentum.

Meng Chuan'er, who was originally polite and courteous, closed the corners of her mouth that had not yet fully revealed the smile, and thought to herself: Okay, this is the best, so as to save the trouble and trouble.

She did not pick up the press card, but stared at them with a pair of narrow phoenix eyes hanging from the corners of her eyes. She lightly ground her teeth and made a "clack" sound that hardly attracted anyone's attention.

Several people didn't look at her, but chatted and drank tea: "That idiot from Oriental Metropolis Daily came for an interview that day, and I didn't give him any discount on my legs."

"That's right, the boss said at that time that I need to make some journalist friends, otherwise I won't get beaten up and the whole thing will be over."

Anyway, Meng Chuaner doesn't actually believe what they say in their words. What kind of society is this? Why are they still fighting? If they really want to fight, they won't tell them clearly. But she hates others very much.

To despise her existence, you can beat her or chop her to death if you scold her, but you cannot despise her.

So she walked over and sat between two of them, put her small stiletto high-heeled shoes on the long agarwood coffee table in front of her except for the heel, then looked at both sides and asked: "There is an old saying in China,

How wonderful is it to have friends come from far away? How come I come all the way from Guangzhou and no one offers me a cigarette?"

The bald idiot next to him, who also had a scorpion tattooed on his head, was stunned for a moment. Just as he was about to get angry, Meng Chuaner continued: "You don't know about my relationship with Wang Linguo? You are looking for death!" - This is purely a statement.

This girl Meng Chuan'er is cheating. The King of Hell is easy to meet, but the kid is difficult to deal with. The real Wang Linguo will definitely not dare to do anything to Meng Chuan'er. These two hundred and five are anxious and can't tell.

Meng Chuan'er also had a hint of wit in his words, and he wasn't lying. If you really want to ask what the relationship is, it's the relationship between the reporter and the interviewee. After hearing this, the bald man was confused, and he was relieved from his previous pressure.

He went down, but reluctantly handed Meng Chuaner a cigarette.

She held it in her mouth and snorted at him: "Point it." The set of movements followed smoothly and smoothly, as if they were born this way. He nodded and said "Hey," and then looked up at her, meaning "Why the f*ck do you order me, Meng Chuan'er"

He held the cigarette back and forth with his teeth and stared at him without blinking until he reluctantly lit the cigarette.

She took a hard sip, blew out a big smoke ring, and then said: "That colleague from Oriental Metropolis Daily is too cowardly. If it were me, who dared to touch my finger, he would immediately know how to write the word regret, and he would

Either kill me, or I'll kill him."

Before those people could say anything, someone came up from the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Meng Chuan'er looked from a distance. This guy was about forty years old. He was wearing an Armani haute couture suit, a BV belt, and a BV handbag.

Dragging a Rimowa suitcase, he was calling loudly on the phone while walking. The phone number was Vetu.

This thing is shining with the light of RMB from top to bottom. It is probably not because he is afraid of being inconvenient to move that he can plate himself with gold and make a golden living Buddha. Such people generally have low quality and connotation.

There are two types of people who package themselves in this way. The first type is people who make money based on their appearance. Actors, celebrities or liars are all the same anyway. They always need to distance themselves from ordinary people to highlight themselves, so they need these packaging to make them stand out.

He appears to be different.

The second type is stupid. After getting a little money, he thinks that anything is good as long as it is expensive, and he tries his best to stick it on his face. And this Lao Wang is a typical second type. He has done a lot of shameful things.

, he should be so low-key that he would be buried among all living things and be hard to trace, but this guy still had to dye his fur and jump out of the henhouse and call me a pheasant, just to find a hunter and a shotgun.

Meng Chuan'er stabilized her mentality, then stood up and said hello: "Hello, Mr. Wang, I am a reporter from Time Weekly. My name is Meng Chuan'er."

This guy was stunned for a moment, and said softly to the phone: "I'll hang up first, I'm in a meeting." Then he said to Meng Chuaner with a cold face, come to my office to talk, while glaring at Scorpion's bald head, obviously blaming him for not doing so.

Fulfilling his duty as a watchdog, the bald man quickly put out his cigarette and stood up and said: "Boss, this beautiful girl said she..."

"Okay, shut up."

She shook off her frozen body and followed him into the office next to him.

There is no need to say more about the sit down, you can think of it all, not to mention the interview, there is no small talk, no serious business, he will not answer anyone who wants him to answer. But he copes with it, using extremely insulting

The way people think about their IQ - for example, if I asked him where the land certificate was, he said it was in his office. If I asked him if he could see it, he said of course he could.

Then when he was about to look, he said he couldn't find it and made a fucking show of it: "Hey? Was it there yesterday? Who is there? Please help me look for it quickly. This reporter Meng is waiting to see." He must be looking for it.

If he didn't come, Meng Chuaner would cross her legs and watch him act there. The purpose of coming was not to get him to respond. Anyway, just come and give you a chance to speak. If you don't speak well, it's not my fault.

As for the interviewee, I can remember what you say, and then write according to what you say. As for whether what you say is true or false, let the evidence speak for itself. But if you don’t say anything, it’s okay. I will say it directly with evidence, so that you can continue to speak.

There was no chance to speak or explain.

But this process must be carried out, otherwise the basic balance of the news will be destroyed. In the end, Meng Chuan'er took two photos, and those silly roe deer tried to stop them, but Wang Linguo waved his hand, and those people did not dare to move.

When she was about to leave, the bald man blocked the door and conjured up two cigarettes and a few stacks of RMB like a magic trick. He stuffed them into her arms and said that it was almost the Mid-Autumn Festival and he should have a good time during the festival.

She didn't answer, and the other party had no intention of letting her out. The intention was very clear. If you don't get something, you can't leave. After thinking about it, she picked up the camera, pointed it at the bald head, and took pictures of the things in his hands.

The bald head was instantly blinded by the photo, and he looked at Wang Linguo and didn't know what to do. Lao Wang shouted from behind: "You are fucking sick! Is Reporter Meng that kind of person? Hurry up and put those things away!"

When Meng Chuan'er went downstairs to take a taxi, she hurriedly took off. She even told the driver to run around the city. The driver asked where on earth were you going, and Meng Chuan'er said that you were talking nonsense. You were running around the city. Do you understand that you were going around the city?

Got it, run in circles.

The driver stepped on the accelerator with some understanding, trying to trick her along the way to see if the police were following a major case or if she was a drug dealer on the run.

While she admired the driver's whimsical ideas, his brain was so imaginative that he could be a screenwriter, she stared closely at the rear mirror and wrote down each license plate on paper until she was sure that none of the cars were duplicates. This was already

Several hours have passed.

During the break, she also told the driver a story, which was basically a complete copy of "Don't Talk to Strangers". She said that she was beaten, abused and tortured by her husband, and finally ran out with bruises all over her body. It was as pitiable as it was pitiful, so she must do it.

If she can't catch him again, she will be dead.

This story clearly shocked the driver's macho feelings. He just held a knife in front of Meng Chuan'er and acted as a hero of justice. Even when she got off the car, he didn't worry about escorting her to the right place, which made Meng Chuan'er hold back her laughter.

She refused, and in the end she didn't even ask for the bus money, and she was so angry that she looked down on him even if she gave him the money. She was helpless, she had unintentionally deceived a good and just man, and it was a sin.

As soon as she walked to the door of the hotel, a Weibo private message message popped up on her phone. She opened it and saw a text that made her excited. It was from Yu Xiaoshan.

"There is no comparison in the words, and there is no similarity in the stories. Maybe our feelings about the world are exactly at the same point, so those messy stories can move you. Send me a copy of your book, and I will read it when I have time."

In this strange town, under the soft moonlight in the latter half of the night, after a thrilling but uninspiring interview had just ended, in the heart of Meng Chuaner, who was now alone, this short paragraph, which I could even count the number of words in, felt.

It seemed like it came from a space full of warm sunshine outside of reality and life, instantly entering her heart with a kind of warmth, instantly dispelling all the loneliness and darkness at this time.

At this time, nothing excited her more than the private message that had arrived two years late. She just wanted to go back to the room and read these inconspicuous words a few times more quietly, but they were so important in her heart.

.

From these words, she could see that man, the man named Yu Xiaoshan. In her heart, that man was not only powerful, but also sad, not only manly, but also cynical, not only self-righteous, but also a little sad.

, in short, it was that kind of person, the person who had existed in the work and in his imagination for a long time. At this time, it seemed that he had truly come to her side. Although she could not reach her, her heart was already there.
Chapter completed!