Van der Waals Cho went to the bar every time his flight was off, and he found a pattern: his name seemed to be more appealing to girls than his nationality. Pen ~ fun ~ Ge www.biquge.info Dutch-Chinese identity is like a medicine, which can make the girl immediately cheer up and talk to him, but his name is more powerful, as long as the name is reported, the girl can't stop giggling, as if an angel is teasing her with feathers, and she doesn't mind him speaking an unfamiliar Chinese at all.

"Are you related to Nicholas Zhao Si?" When I called a taxi with him and left, people always asked him.

After Van der Waals Zhao discovered that the girl from his homeland favored him, he couldn't stop eating and developing the habit of visiting Chinese nightclubs. As soon as the KLM flight stopped, Van der Waals Zhao went to rent a hotel after work and then ran to Sanlitun. After a day and a night of messing around in the dark, he quietly checked out, dressed up, returned to the airport, and continued his service on the return flight, leaving the smell of cheap perfume and memories in the messy hotel and disappearing as mysteriously as they came. The phone number, address, and message he left for the girl were all fake, and when the girl at the hotel woke up, Van der Waals Zhao was already on the Royal Airlines plane at an altitude of 20,000 meters, smiling and serving passengers a meal that was hot in the microwave.

Countless girls were heartbroken by this.

Van der Waals explained to friends in the Netherlands, emphasizing that his Chinese face and high eyebrows are classical beauty, a typical symbol of the beautiful man of the East, and shared countless nude photos to illustrate the fact that Chinese girls are obsessed with him, scrambling to dedicate themselves to him, and when they are jealous, they are eager to fight, more fiercely than running for Olympic torchbearer.

"Serving on direct flights between China and Israel is equivalent to visiting a free brothel, and the air ticket is free." Van der Waals bragged in a café in Amsterdam. He is very active in the cabin crew on direct flights between China and Israel to increase the chances of staying overnight in China.

Until he met someone.

That evening, Van der Waals Zhao had just gotten off the plane, dragged his suitcase into the city by light rail train, and rented a luxury couple's love room on the 5th floor of Hanting with his temporary documents.

Van der Waals Zhao hurriedly applied hairspray to his head, combed his hair neatly, and walked to open the door.

Outside the door, there was a Hanting cleaner in snow-white uniform, holding a thick stack of white bath towels, and Sven said politely: "Sir, I will change the bathroom utensils for you." ”

"Okay." Van der Waals let him in, telling him in rusty Chinese: "You need to order room service for me, I want a bottle of red wine, freshly picked roses and candle music, and enough condoms in the bedside table." ”

"Are you Mr. Van der Waals Zhao?" The cleaner awkwardly called out his name, trying to remember.

"Yes, but you have to keep your client's information confidential, and I told the foreman that if my guests know my real name, I will complain to you." Van der Waals hid in the bathroom and continued to comb his hair, emphasizing in a loud voice: "The wine should be better, if you fool me with the inferior product, I will taste it, in that case, you will wait to be fired, because I will not tolerate dishonesty." ”

"Van der Waals Zhao?" The cleaner suddenly appeared in the mirror, behind him, and looked curiously at the menacing foreign empty space: "Are you and Zhao Si related?" ”

"Who is Zhao Si?" Van der Waals was a loner and did not know the well-known artist of the Northeast.

"That's going to be easy." The cleaner grunted, then gently hugged the waist of Van der Waals' suit: "I said, little Fan,"

Van der Waals was about to curse, but a cold needle expertly pierced through his suit and shirt, stabbing diagonally into his psoas muscles and pushing in the anesthetic. Van der Waals only felt that he had been cut in the waist, and he was completely unconscious from his hips to his heels, and a tingling feeling of powerlessness ran up his back.

"You...... This is...... Crime ......" Van der Waals realized that when he was injected with the drug, he had collapsed limply, and was held tightly by the cleaner, leaving only his mouth and the sense of speaking: "I want to ...... Sue you! ”

"I know, I know, I know, I commit a crime! I'm sorry! The cleaner chattered and apologized, and dragged Xiao Fan, who was carrying the comb, out like a dead body. Van der Waals's legs "clicked" on the threshold, and his slippers jumped.

"Your slippers—" The cleaner saw Van der Waals lose his shoes and tried to pick them up, but the bathroom door closed automatically, clamping on Van der Waals' bare feet and then popping them back open.

The cleaner's eyes widened, and he thought it must have hurt because he heard a "crunch". He walked on his horse, dragging Van der Waals's armpits, stared at him for a moment, and muttered to himself without any conscience: "It's good that you've been given an anesthetic - you won't know the pain until tomorrow morning, right?" Then I'll fix you first, you don't know how it hurts anyway—" muttered heartlessly, and as he put his arms around his shoulders and dragged him out, Van der Waals's bare feet fell limply onto the wet floor of the hallway, slid all the way through the floor tiles of the big room, slid onto the carpet, and was finally secured to the love chair by the cleaner.

The cleaner rested the delirious Van der Waals in his chair and bent down to rummage through the closet, where vibrators, whips, plush handcuffs, restraint belts, and messy candle heads were turned over one by one by the cleaners and thrown on the bed one by one. The cleaner muttered as he flipped through it, "What the hell is this...... What about the rope? What about the mouth ball? Ah, found it! ”

He dragged a smooth leather rope from the depths of the closet, sweating profusely, but refusing to rest, like an industrious little bee, he tied Van der Waals back and forth to the chair.

Fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and Van der Waals regained his consciousness in a groggy state, raised his heavy head, and asked weakly, "You, are you robbing or ......?"

"Don't speak, hold on." The cleaner whispered softly, and finally stuffed the mouth ball into Van der Waals's mouth, and then put the belt on the back of his head and fastened it, so Van der Waals was full of loose and porous iron balls, and not only was he tied so that he could not move, but he was also deprived of the right to call for help.

The cleaner sat on the bed with a tired butt to wipe his sweat, while looking at the room, holding his knees and gasping: "I'm tired, it's much harder than in the movie." ”

Van der Waals began to struggle desperately, "whining" and writhing, but the cleaners did a delicate job of tying Van der Waals as tightly as a spider spirit hanging on a net, and Van der Waals's struggles were all in vain.

The cleaner noticed the dissatisfaction of the foreign friend, suddenly realized, patted his head and shouted: "Oh, yes, I will do it for you for the room service you ordered." As he woke up from a dream, he quickly unbuttoned the snow-white cleaner's uniform, stuffed it under the bed, and then turned out a decent white suit from the stack of bath towels he brought in.

Van der Waals noticed that the cleaner was wearing white gloves on his hands, and he couldn't help but despair - he thought that white gloves were the standard for cleaners, but now he realized that they were trying to eliminate fingerprints.

The most fucked up part is that the cleaner has never communicated with him since he confirmed that his name is Van der Waals, and he is chattering alone, constantly comforting, and constantly busy, like a neurotic raccoon tidying up his room, busy getting the job done in an orderly manner.

It's just that the cleaner's job is to tie people into rice dumplings. (To be continued.) )