Volume 6: Summer Chapter 39: Gnawing
Tang Butian raised her head slightly, looked directly into Jiang You's eyes, and said, "You know."
“Is this trust?”
Tang Butian just looked at him and didn't answer.
Jiang You grabbed a strand of hair from her shoulder and twisted it around his finger, "I think your wooden sword is afraid that it will be driven by some strange people in strange ways, so when it saw a pleasing one, it quickly settled it."
"What's the meaning?"
"Praise your good looks."
"Jiang You?!"
"For example, if you tell me that you want to eat fried pork chops, then no matter if I order takeout, go out to buy them, or fry them myself, you are my leader and I have to help you." Jiang You let go of his hand, and his hair fell back on Tang Butian's shoulders. "This wooden sword contains the law. You hold it and chop it down, and all meaning will be cut off and disappear. Then the problem comes."
"What's the problem?"
"Who do you think is more powerful, you telling me to go buy some fried pork chops, or you chopping with this wooden sword?"
Tang Butian was a little confused: "How can we compare this?"
"Buying pork chops is more powerful," Jiang You gave the answer directly. "This wooden sword has very strict conditions for driving it. The materials and the production process are probably all hell-level difficult, but it is an entity and there is always a way to destroy it. In that case, the laws contained in it will also dissipate. And if an employee is dissatisfied with his leader and changes jobs, it is just a change of leader. If he is really not satisfied with the job and starts his own business, he still has to serve the big men in industrial and commercial taxation."
Jiang You turned over the wooden sword on the table. "There are many rules in this place. Different rules even conflict with each other. They are constantly updated. If he wants to get the reward, he must become one of the concepts, a symbol, and a set of rules. In short, he cannot be a tangible Godzilla. Monsters are killed by being shot."
Tang Butian thought about what Jiang You said, and unconsciously exerted force with her fingers, pressing the Coke can inward, and dark brown liquid with bubbles flowed onto her hand. She was startled and put the Coke back on the table, and Jiang You handed her a few tissues.
Tang Butian took the tissue and wiped her hands. She said, "I don't want to eat fried pork chops."
"I guess, let's go out for some snacks?"
"good."
…
More than 20 minutes later, they walked into a soup dumpling restaurant near the Public Security Bureau. Jiang You ordered a portion of shrimp wontons and fried pork chops, and Tang Butian ordered a basket of soup dumplings.
The pork chop was not thick, not coated with bread crumbs, and the edges were a little burnt. It looked average, but it was solid meat when you took a bite. Eat two wontons, take a bite of the pork chop, and drink a sip of soup.
Jiang You felt a little hot, so he stood up, walked to the counter, took two glass bottles of Fanta from the freezer nearby, paid the bill and went back.
He saw Tang Butian holding a bitten soup dumpling with her chopsticks, the juice inside dripping into the cage, but she was unaware of it.
"Eat it quickly. You can only eat one mouthful of the soup from this soup dumpling." Jiang You said with concern.
Tang Butian subconsciously put the chopsticks into her mouth, and then her expression twisted, she was scalded.
Jiang You placed the Fanta in front of her, took a straw from the chopstick holder and inserted it.
Tang Butian picked up the bottle and took a big sip.
"Don't worry too much," Jiang You comforted her, "Even if the sky falls, we still have Zhuang Zekun and the others to hold it up."
"It's not that I'm worried," Tang Butian took another sip of Fanta, "but I don't know what I can do."
"Are you confused?"
"right."
"Thirty years of sleep is not enough for me."
"What's the meaning?"
"He's probably still in the early stages of his business, maybe he hasn't even received the angel round yet, so it's easy for him to collapse," Jiang You picked up a soup dumpling and ate it in one gulp. "Maybe he still has a chance to fight Godzilla. Did you hang up the painting I gave you?"
"No."
Jiang You told her, "Hanging it in the place where you practice will be beneficial."
…
Guan Qingtong sat on the sofa in the living room.
There were several printed paintings spread out on the coffee table, covered with strangely shaped black tubes and various fragments.
It was Jin Cheng’s dream.
After he drew it, he took a photo and sent it to Chang Lizhang, and then through Guan Nuo, it was sent to Guan Qingtong's mobile phone.
She printed them out.
There were no lights on in the living room.
The sky gradually darkened, light and shadow fell on the painting, the picture was distorted, and the black tube seemed to wriggle.
A black beetle crawled into the gap between the sofa and you.
Guan Qingtong's fingers trembled slightly but quickly.
She is calculating.
In her eyes, the image on the coffee table stood out - there were bugs crawling on the black tubes. No, not that. Rather, tiny bugs gathered into the shape of tubes.
Rustle, rustle. Rustle, rustle.
She heard some noises.
The sound of insects gnawing.
She couldn't help but shudder, and lowered her head, only to see a bug crawling on the back of her hand. A tiny, black bug.
Click.
There was the sound of a key unlocking the door, and Guan Qingtong looked up.
The insects flew away from the field of vision, gradually disappeared, and then vanished.
"Mom," Guan Nuo walked in. He changed into slippers and said as he walked, "I went to the department for a meeting this afternoon. Uncle Zhuang said he would stay in Yanjing in the future, and then he got a mission."
He saw the painting on the coffee table. When he reached out to take it, Guan Qingtong grabbed his wrist and said, "Don't touch it."
Guan Nuo saw that Guan Qingtong looked unhappy, so he asked with concern, "What's wrong? Did you figure out anything?"
Guan Qingtong let go of her hand and asked, "What task did Corey give you?"
"I'm in a group with Aunt Wu to check for alien spiritual power. I was assigned to this area nearby. I came back today after sweeping the streets. It's quite boring. I have to check every piece and not miss anything," Guan Nuo sat down on the sofa, "Is there anything to eat at home?"
"There's pork rib soup. I'll cook some noodles and stir-fry some vegetables."
"Uncle isn't coming back for dinner?" Guan Nuo asked.
"He's having a dinner party at work," Guan Qingtong stood up and walked towards the kitchen, "Your colleague, the one who opened a shop on Wenhua Street..."
"Brother Jiang, what happened to him?"
"Is he still in the Special Operations Department?" Guan Qingtong asked.
"Is he still working part-time? He asked me to go to his shop on Friday night and asked me to find a bird for him." Guan Nuo followed him to the kitchen door and looked at Guan Qingtong's busy back at the stove. "Do you have anything to ask him?"
Guan Qingtong did not answer, but continued to ask: "Can you contact the person who had the precognitive dream?"
"Sure, I'll ask Uncle Chang for his WeChat." Guan Nuo hesitated for a moment and asked, "Mom, have you predicted something bad?"
The water boiled, and Guan Qingtong put a handful of noodles into the pot. Then she turned her head and looked at Guan Nuo: "You can't tell anything just by looking at the painting. You 'll know when we meet."
