narrow red

"Girl," Baochan put away the phone and said sincerely, "You're really good."

Chen Rouen raised her head proudly, and ran out of the room in a hurry. After a while, cheers suddenly sounded in the corridor, and Shi Kuoting and Ying Xiaonong shouted alternately: "Move! Move!"

Baochan slowly sat down in front of the window, the morning sun was shining on his face, his heart was beating gently, a mass of fiery stuff was slowly expanding inside, rolling hotter and hotter, burning hotter and hotter.

He clutched his chest, trying to suppress the ecstasy, but he couldn't. At this moment, he especially wanted to tell Kuang Zheng that hope was born out of despair, and that the gray predicament was finally brought to light.

He got up and walked out, through the crowd.

"Treasure place?" Master Kuang called him.

"I'm going out."

He walked downstairs quickly, getting faster and faster, almost running, as if he had become a bird and was about to fly by the wind. The No. 112 bus just arrived at the stop. He ran up and saw the eyes of the people on the bus before realizing that he was still wearing a long gown.

He lowered his head and held the hanging ring, followed the body swaying gently, calmed down and thought about it, in fact, a phone call would do, but he wanted to go, and wanted to tell Kuangzheng personally that his dream had dawned.

When he got off the bus at Financial Street Station, he hesitated again. Was it too abrupt to come so quietly, and would it cause trouble for Kuangzheng... The Wanrong Twin Star Building stood in front of him like a towering sky, and he could only do it with his neck up. Seeing the top, he wandered in a daze for a while, and boldly stopped a young man in a suit: "Hi, may I ask..."

The man glanced at his gown with a look of contempt.

"The one who sells the company..." Baochan could feel his arrogance, "Which building is it?"

"The one who sells the company?" The man said deliberately in English, "M&A?"

Baochan didn't understand: "It seems...it's called the Investment Banking Department."

"This." The young man pointed impatiently at the west building behind him, brushed past him, and hurried towards the bus stop.

Baochan felt uncomfortable, the barriers between people and human classes were clearly defined here, just a piece of clothing was looked down upon from the bottom of their hearts.He walked towards the entrance of Wanrong West Building decorated with large pieces of metal components. Men and women in professional suits came in and out, and his plain white gown looked out of place.

The lobby looks like a luxury hotel, with avant-garde installation art, coffee seats, sunny patios and thriving green plants. He walked to the front desk amidst many strange eyes. The receptionist with flaming red lips saw him, Pull out a standard smile: "Sir, hello."

"

I..." Baozhan realized that he knew nothing about Kuangzheng except his name, "I'm looking for Kuangzheng. "

I was looking for a VP, and the reception lady asked one more question: "Excuse me, who are you, Mr. Kuang?"

"I'm him..." Baochan wanted to say a neighbor, but he said, "Friend."

The receptionist seemed surprised, and raised her eyebrows bluntly: "What's your last name?"

"Miangui's surname is Bao, baby's treasure."

"Okay, wait a moment." She picked up the intercom phone, her eyes involuntarily staring at Baochan's gown.

He is actually very beautiful in this attire. He is well-trained, with short hair like dark clouds. His body posture and gait are first-class. The crane that doubts Bai Xue disappears.

"Mr. Kuang," the phone was connected, and the receptionist spoke softly, "A gentleman surnamed Bao is looking for you..."

Baochan couldn't help being nervous, he was afraid that if Kuang was busy, if he didn't want his colleagues to know that he had such a poor friend, the joy when he stepped on the bus would be gone, only uneasiness and apprehension would be left.

The reception lady looked at Bao Chan, with a smile of unknown meaning: "President Kuang died."

Baochan blinked: "Ah?" He hung up, feeling empty in his heart, "Ah, good..."

Suddenly, the cell phone rang in the pocket of the gown, and he quickly took it out, it was Kuangzheng's number: "Hello?"

"Why didn't you make a phone call?" Kuang Zheng's voice was a little far away, and he couldn't hear clearly.

"I..." Baozhan was at a loss for words, "hope", "despair", "dream", "dawn", he couldn't say a word, he muttered, "I happened to pass by..."

"I have something to do, wait for me for half an hour," Kuang Zheng spoke quickly, "Give the phone to the front desk."

Baochan was still in a daze, and handed the mobile phone to the reception lady. It was a third-rate domestic mobile phone, and she delicately separated a distance: "Hello?"

There was a cold voice: "Kuangzheng."

"Ah, Mr. Kuang!" Her big eyes widened.

"Lead him to the VIP room on the second floor, write down my job number, Darjeeling tea, and the raspberry mousse cake that you all said was delicious," Kuang Zheng thought for a while, "Make the air conditioner higher for him. "

"Yes..." It was the first time that the receptionist had heard so many instructions from Kuangzheng, and took a pen to record it on paper in surprise, "Okay, Mr. Kuang, I understand."

After putting down the phone, she still smiled, but this time it was as bright as a sunny day after the rain: "Sir, please follow me."

Baochan followed her to a corner of the lobby, walked onto a fenced jogging platform, passed through two soft doors with excellent sound insulation, and came to a quiet space.There was a soft plush carpet under your feet, surrounded by dim small wall lamps. The reception lady opened a door as high as the ceiling and made a "please" gesture.

Bao Chan walked in, the room was not small, without windows, but with thick velvet curtains, and a row of blood-red retro sofas under the curtains.He looked around, and a waiter in a bow tie came in with hot tea and cake: "Sir, your Darjeeling and raspberry mousse."

Baochan didn't hear what he said clearly, thanked him, shook up his gown and sat down on the red sofa.For half an hour, he held the phone in both hands, and looked at it every few minutes. He couldn't tell how many times he looked at it.

When he saw Baochan's appearance, he was stunned. There was a bit of bright white in the dazzling red, like a silver pattern, like a jewel, with flat shoulders and a thin neck, standing up like a pine tree: "Brother."

Kuang Zheng didn't know what was wrong, his heart was pounding, "Ah..." His Adam's apple slipped slightly, he tugged at his collar, "I thought you were wearing a T-shirt...is it warm?"

"It's not hot." Baochan stood there with his hands hanging down, like suet jade.

Kuangzheng walked over, a bit afraid to look at him: "Why are you dressed like this?"

He had no other intentions, but Baochan lowered his head in low self-esteem: "Worry...forgot to change."

in a hurry?Kuang Zheng frowned: "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no," the atmosphere was a bit weird, Baozhan pulled him to sit down, "Brother, don't I still owe you 1 yuan, I want to pay it back later..."

He thought a lot during the half hour of rectification. There was a new place in Ruyi Island, but the old one was overdue.

"Well," Kuangzheng didn't get distracted, he didn't care if the money was still not paid, he just stared at the hem of Baozhan's cloud-like gown, bent down and touched the fabric, "You're wearing this..."

"Brother," Baochan took a breath, "I'm a Peking Opera actor."

He finally said it out, a declining business, in this luxurious financial building, sounds extremely ridiculous.

Kuang Zheng reacted: "Peking opera?"

He had no idea about Peking Opera, Kunqu Opera, Errenzhuan, until he remembered his trip to Nanshan District two months ago, a dilapidated house in the 50s, dirty and smelly puddles, and an old painting of "smoky waves bring refreshment" , an entertainer paralyzed on his shoulders, such a bad environment, such a difficult group of people, Baochan is actually one of them.

"I... have been learning opera since middle school. Tsing Yi, Hua Dan, and Lao Sheng have all sung for more than ten years."

Kuang Zheng didn't say anything, his heart clenched fiercely.

Baochan lowered her eyes, her eyelashes, nose bridge, lips, and even her thin eyelids are so beautiful: "I have only one thought in my life, even if I am smashed to pieces, I will not look back."

Kuangzheng loves him, loves his stubbornness and persistence, loves him who has been struggling in desperation, but has never said a word to himself, loves him like a grass against the light, so weak, but tenaciously chasing the light.

"Go," Kuang Zheng stood up, "let's go home."

"Huh?" Baochan looked up at him.

It is completely illogical for Kuang Zheng to go home. He rarely does illogical things, and this moment is an exception. He called Clemen: "I won't be going to Millennium's management speech in the afternoon. You can take Duan Xiaojun."

Clemen was startled: "Boss?"

"There's also the endgame of Fusion, summarizing you write."

"No, boss..."

Kuang Zheng hung up the phone, supported Bao Chan by the shoulder, and led him out of the VIP room.Wanrong's lobby is full of sunlight, and there are many people gathered in the elevator room. When they see them, they all call "Mr. Kuang" first, and then cast their good eyes on Baochan.

Take the elevator to B2, Kuangzheng leads Baochan to shuttle in the parking lot: "Did you see our car?"

Our car, the first time he said that, Baochan felt like a rainbow rose in his heart, and he saw the yacht blue in the sea of ​​cars at a glance: "There."

The two of them got into the car, fastened their seat belts, and drove out from Financial Street at noon, like bad students who skipped self-study classes, speeding all the way east.

When he got home, Baozhan opened the door. On the sofa in the living room was a kraft paper bag tied with a hemp rope. There were big colorful patterns printed on the paper. It was a goose. Kuangzheng was curious: "What is this?"

Baochan looked back: "The shirt, it arrived yesterday." He went to the drinking machine to get two glasses of water, and put them on a small marble-patterned tray, "Open it, one is yours."

When Baochan bought something for him, the corners of Kuangzheng's mouth raised unconsciously, but when he opened the package, he saw that the white cotton cloth was an old man's shirt, not to mention the shape: "Do you think I can wear this?"

"It's so comfortable, one for you and one for me," Baochan brought over the water, "try it on."

Correction does not move.

"You don't have a change of clothes every time you come here. The material of the suit and shirt is so uncomfortable." Baochan brought up a small box from under the coffee table. It was left over from wrapping fruit, washed clean, and contained a lot of straight collar and cuff buttons , "Put the buttons here, and I'll keep them for you."

Kuang Zheng stared at the box, unable to tell what it was like, a younger brother probably felt this way, he took off his shirt in twos and put on that cheap old shirt with "Goose Brand" printed on it Two words, the most common material, but it made him feel more intimate than thousands of pieces of silk.