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

"Who are you?"

"I'm a reporter for Time Weekly. ”

"Press card. ”

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

Meng Chuan'er, who was originally polite and polite, put away the corners of her mouth that had not yet fully released her smile, and said secretly in her heart: Okay, this is the best, so as to save the trouble of vain and wrongdoing.

She didn't pick up her press card, she stared at them with a pair of narrow phoenix eyes hanging from the corners of her eyes, her teeth grinding slightly, and making a "pop" sound that almost didn't attract anyone's attention.

Several people didn't look at her, chatting and drinking tea: "That day, the stupid X from the Oriental Metropolis Daily came to interview, and his legs didn't give him a discount." ”

"That's it, at that time, the boss said that he wanted to make a few journalist friends, otherwise he wouldn't be beaten. ”

Anyway, Meng Chuan'er actually didn't believe what they said in their words, what kind of society is it? What about fighting, killing, killing, and killing? If you really want to fight, kill, kill, and kill, you won't tell it clearly. But she hates the existence of others who despise her, you can beat her or hack her to death, but you can't despise her.

So she walked over and sat down between the two of them, put the heel of the heel of the little heel on the long agarwood coffee table in front of her, and then looked at both sides and asked, "There is an old Chinese saying that if a friend comes from afar, he is happy?

The bald head next to him, the bald head and the stupid man with a scorpion tattooed on his head were stunned for a moment, and just wanted to have a seizure, Meng Chuan'er continued: "You don't know my relationship with Wang Linguo?

Meng Chuan'er also hid a wit in her words, and she didn't lie, if she really wants to ask what the relationship is, that is, the relationship between the reporter and the interviewee. After hearing this, the bald head was foggy, but he suppressed the qi just now, but he still reluctantly handed Meng Chuan'er a cigarette.

She snorted at him in her mouth, "Dot." "A set of moves is natural, as if it was born to be like this. He nodded and said hey, and then looked up at her again, meaning that what did you do to make me, Meng Chuan'er used his teeth to toss the cigarette back and forth, staring at him without blinking, until he reluctantly lit the cigarette.

She took a hard sip, spit out a large smoke ring, and then said: "That colleague from the Oriental Metropolis Daily is too cowardly, if it is me, who dares to touch my finger, he immediately knows how to write repentance, or he will kill me, or I will kill him." ”

Before those people could speak, a position at the end of the staircase came up, Meng Chuan'er looked from afar, this guy was about forty years old, dressed in an Armani haute couture suit, a BV belt, holding a BV handbag, dragging a Zhimowa suit, and was making a loud phone call while walking, the phone was vetu.

This cargo is shining with the light of RMB up and down, it is estimated that he is not afraid of inconvenience, he can make himself a gold living Buddha, this kind of person is generally not high in quality and connotation.

There are two kinds of people who package themselves in this way, the first is people who make money by their faces, actors, celebrities or liars are almost the same anyway, they always need to distance themselves from ordinary people to stand out, so they need these packages to make themselves stand out.

The second is stupid, after a little money, I think that anything is good as long as it is expensive, and I desperately stick it on my face. And this old king is a typical second kind, he has done a bunch of shady things, and he should be so low-key that it is difficult to find it buried in the crowd, but this thing has to dye his hair and jump out of the chicken coop and call me a pheasant, purely looking for hunters and shotguns.

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

The guy was stunned for a moment, and whispered into the phone: "I'll hang up first, I'll have a meeting." Then said to Meng Chuan'er with a cold face, come to my office and say, while talking and glaring at the scorpion bald head, obviously blaming him for not fulfilling the duty of a watchdog, the bald head quickly pinched 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.

Needless to say, you can think about it, you can think about it, you can talk about interviews, you don't talk about anything, you don't talk about any serious things, and he doesn't answer any of the things he wants him to answer. But he coped with it all, in extremely insulting ways - for example, when he asked him where the land certificate was, he said it was in his office. When asked if he could see it, he said of course he could.

Then when he wanted to see it, he said he couldn't find it, and he made a fucking play: "Hey, was it still there yesterday? Who's there, hurry up and help me find it, this Meng reporter is waiting to see." "I can't find it, Meng Chuan'er crossed Erlang's legs to watch him act there, and the purpose of coming was not to let him respond to anything, anyway, just come, give you a chance to speak, if you don't talk well, it's not bad for me."

For the interviewee, you say that I can remember, and then write according to what you say, as for the truth or falsehood of what you say, use evidence to speak. But you don't say anything, it's okay, I'll say it directly with evidence, so you don't even have a chance to speak and explain.

It's just that this process must be there, otherwise it will destroy the most basic balance of journalism. In the end, Meng Chuan'er took two photos, and those stupid roe deer wanted to stop them, Wang Linguo waved his hand, but those people didn't dare to move.

When she was about to leave, her bald head blocked the door like a trick and conjured out two cigarettes and a few stacks of yuan, stuffed into her arms, saying that it was almost the Mid-Autumn Festival, and she had a good holiday.

She didn't answer, and the other party didn't mean to let her out, the intention was obvious, don't think about leaving if you don't take something. She thought about it and picked up the camera and took a picture of the bald head, as well as the things in his hand, the bald head was instantly photographed, and she didn't know what to do when she looked at Wang Linguo. Lao Wang shouted from behind: "You're sick! Is Reporter Meng that kind of person? Hurry up and put those things away!"

Meng Chuan'er went downstairs to take a taxi, and she hurried to her, and she also told the driver to run around the city for me. The driver said where are you going, Meng Chuan'er said that you talk so much nonsense, run around the city, do you understand the city, run in circles.

The driver stepped on the accelerator as if he didn't understand, wondering if she was a police officer tracking a major case or a drug dealer on the run.

While admiring the driver's whimsy, she could be a screenwriter with a brain, and while staring closely at the rear mirror, jotting down each license plate on a piece of paper until she was sure that none of the cars were duplicated, and it had been hours.

During the interval, she also told a story to the driver, basically completely copying "Don't Talk to Strangers", saying that she was beaten and abused by her husband, and finally ran out with bruises, how pitiful and pitiful she was, so she must not be caught back again, then she will die.

This story obviously shocked the driver's manly feelings, and he almost carried a knife in front of Meng Kuan'er to act as a righteous hero, even when she got out of the car, he was not at ease to escort him to the place, so Meng Kuan'er refused with a smile, and finally didn't even ask for the car money, and was angry that giving money was a gesture of looking down on him, she was helpless, she unintentionally deceived a righteous and good person, sin.

As soon as she walked to the door of the hotel, a reminder of a Weibo private message popped up on her mobile phone, and she opened it to see a text that made her excited, which was sent by Yu Xiaoshan.

"There is no comparison in the text, and there is no similarity in the story, maybe the feeling of the world in our hearts is exactly at one point, so those messy stories can move you. Send me a copy of your book and I'll read it when I have time. ”

In this strange town, under the soft moonlight in the second half of the night, in the heart of Meng Chuan'er, who had just finished a thrilling but unmoving interview, in the heart of Meng Chuan'er, who was alone at the moment, this short paragraph of text that could count the number of words, seemed to come from a space full of warm sunshine outside of reality and life, with a warm moment into her heart, instantly dispelling all the loneliness and coolness at this time.

At this time, there was nothing more exciting for her than a private message that had been two years late, and she just wanted to hurry back to her room, and wanted to quietly read these few inconspicuous words a few more times in her heart.

From these words, she could see the man, the man named Yu Xiaoshan. The man in her heart, not only strength, but also sorrow, not only man, but also cynicism, not only self-righteousness, but also a little pity, in short, such a person, the man who has existed in the work and in his imagination for a long time, seems to have come to her at this time, although she can't reach out, but the heart is already there.

However, what is never expected is that life will always surprise you, or it will be a fright.