Trafford's Trading Club

As for whether Number 18 had blinked or not, he was not sure. If it took such a long time to stare at a so-called investor, then Dazhe thought Black Soul Messenger’s job was definitely a drudgery.

But having said that, this man named Zhu Maolin was indeed like what his subordinates think in their hearts – a workaholic.

Such a person was probably the company’s boss’s favorite. The company’s boss liked it, but it didn’t mean that the subordinates would like it as well.

“Number 18, is this customer difficult to deal with?” Dazhe couldn’t help but ask.

Number 18 just turned his head slowly, took a look at Dazhe, and then continued to look at Zhu Maolin who was in a meeting overnight, without making a sound. Dazhe was bored so he looked around.

In Dazhe’s view, Number 18 was mysterious... But for Number 18, she was just confused. What is the intention of my master approving this potential investor this time?

In fact, turning the time back all the way before she went back to the club, Number 18 randomly picked the man in front of her. She felt that this man’s soul power was pretty good, so she made a White Card out of it.

Naturally, Zhu Maolin couldn’t compare with the other investors she was looking for. Although the other investors’ data cards might not be so serious, it certainly took more effort than the one in front of her.

Why my new master actually approved is this investor who is more ordinary than other investors...? Is it a warning to my work attitude?

On the other hand, she had been observing Zhu Maolin for some time now, but she did not know where to start. It was not because of the lack of ability to deal with ordinary people. The Black Soul Messenger with a long history like her really had too many methods. However, with so many different ways, she did not know which was better.

She also told Dazhe that Black Soul Messenger had her own preferences. Obviously, Zhu Maolin was not her preferred type.

Or maybe... It is necessary to guide the new Black Soul Messenger – Dazhe, so my master chose someone easier for Brother Zhe to serve as a tutorial.

Or is there a deeper meaning behind it?... The new master doesn’t want Dazhe to be influenced by my style or something?

Complicating a doubt was irrational. Black Soul Number 18 knew it. However, this was not someone else after all, but the one who was her master.

The new master might just pick a client randomly with no deeper meaning behind it... But, what if it does?

Black Soul Messengers were innately in awe of masters – They awe those who throned as the shopkeeper.

Number 18 felt that she was trapped in a vicious circle of thinking. Her reasoning told her that this might be just a simple business, but her intuition reminded her that it was not so simple.

She suddenly felt a slap on her shoulder. She retreated after a sudden nebulization of her body, and gathered again one meter away.

Dazhe’s arm was still raised in the air, looking quite at a loss.

“What are you doing?” asked Number 18 coldly.

Dazhe shook his head and said, “I just wanted to ask you – would you like something to drink?”

Holding two bottles of green tea in his hand, he explained, “Just when I saw you were too serious, I walked away and bought it.”

“Black Soul does not need to eat,” said Number 18 calmly.

Dazhe shrugged, “But, you can still taste, right? If you don’t eat, does it not feel pitiful? Hmph... take it easy. I’m putting it here. You can take it yourself if you want to have a drink.”

“Nonsense.” Number 18 pulled off his sleeves and continued to observe Zhu Maolin, “Also, don’t touch me casually in the future. I can let it go this time. If there is another time, Zhan Lu won’t be able to protect you!”

Due to this warning tone, the key pendant on Dazhe’s neck buzzed at this time, as if it was quite dissatisfied with this provocation.

(Zhan Lu: Come! Let’s hurt each other!)

So how long do you have to stare at the person... Dazhe leaned against the wall, yawned, and then glanced at Zhu Maolin who was waving his pen on the projection screen. Dazhe noticed the ring on his ring finger, and muttered, “This guy didn’t even call his wife even if he doesn’t go home...”

...

...

“So be it.”

It was almost two in the morning when Zhu Maolin looked at all the employees in his group and said, “The candidates for the reshoot have been finalized. Tboy, you should contact the personnel involved early in the next morning. It is best to let her come to the set in the afternoon. As for the script, I’m here to prepare for it... Everyone has worked hard. Let’s get off work.”

The city in the middle of the night was quiet. Some dragged their tired figures to leave. Some returned to their seats; they took their stool and put some clothes on themselves, then they laid there quietly.

Zhu Maolin checked the time and drove away.

He had forgotten when he started to like such a peaceful night without worrying about traffic jams on the road and the sunlight’s glare. The city seemed to fall asleep before his eyes.

He was still thinking about the script for the film reshooting tomorrow. At this time, there was only a vague prototype in his mind. He had not been able to grasp the specific details thoroughly.

Soon after, he parked his car in front of a convenience store in front of the park. He asked the staff to buy a midnight snack earlier, but he had forgotten about it. He felt hungry now, so he settled it directly in the convenience store.

In the end, he bought a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of coffee before returning to his car.

Smoking a cigarette, the car stereo was playing “Scarborough-Fair”.

He slowly closed his eyes; he emptied his mind as if being banished to the Bayanbulak Grassland [1] where he was born.

Ding-!

The text message notification pulled Zhu Maolin’s thoughts from the vast grassland back to the phone in the car in front of the park. He simply took a glance.

Wife: Are you still working overtime?

Zhu Maolin: You’re not asleep, yet?

Wife: I was thirsty. Woke up to get myself a cup of water. I noticed that you’re not back yet.

Zhu Maolin: En. There will be a reshoot tomorrow. I’m still in the company, so please rest first.

Wife: En.

Zhu Maolin: Good night.

Wife: Goodnight.

Zhu Maolin sighed. The slightly astringent taste of coffee woke him a little. He switched on the laptop, put it on his lap, opened the document, and began to write the script in his mind.

-Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

-Coriander, sage, rosemary and thyme...

This was the only voice that accompanied him.

...

Good night...

-Ask her to find me an acre of land

-Coriander, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

-Just between the sea and the coast

This was also the only sound that accompanied her to sleep...in this double bed.