Wang Zixu lifted the curtain with his fingers.

The woman's body was covered with a light yellow towel, leaving her collarbone exposed. She was lying on the bed in a more comfortable position than lying on the Taihang Mountains on the North China Plain.

As Wang Zixu expected, she was wearing a blindfold. Otherwise, he would not have dared to open the curtain and peek.

At present, he has not reached the point where he is destined to die. He has not reached the Wujiang River and committed suicide. He is still in the stage of being surrounded by enemies, and there is still room for self-rescue.

"Move quickly." An Younan urged.

The mountains are about to move. If Wang Zixu doesn't do anything anymore, she will.

Wang Zixu gritted his teeth, opened the curtain and walked into the room.

At this time, he had just come into contact with An Younan, and they didn't have a deep relationship with each other. He didn't know the other person's character yet. If it were Wang Zixu in the future, he would definitely run away from the door by any means. But at this time, he thought in his heart, wouldn't it be just a matter of pressing the air conditioner?

Well, just three seconds.

It's very simple to press the air conditioner. You only need to tap it with your fingers, and you don't even need to speak. The "beep" sound of the air conditioner will help you explain everything. But Wang Zixu doesn't know it yet. He doesn't know what a troublesome woman An Younan is.

.

In business, she is good at simplifying all complicated things and cutting through the mess quickly; but in life, she compensatingly complicates all problems. On the surface, she just presses the air conditioning button, but in the process of execution, she will constantly

New demands are raised, and in the end you find that you have to climb the Himalayas to solve her problems.

But Wang Zixu didn't know it at the time.

Wang Zixu walked quickly into the room, and just as An Younan said, he lowered the wind speed by one level. After the "beep" sound, An Younan spoke again:

"You set the humidifier to tide mode and the aromatherapy to the new one I made, which is in my bag, in a blue bottle. Then raise my bed by 30 degrees... no, 20 degrees. Music player

Change the song list, what is this babbling song about? Change it to one with white noise to help you sleep. By the way, ventilate the room for 10 minutes before changing the aromatherapy."

After hearing this, Wang Zixu's mind was buzzing and he was confused.

"Hurry," An Younan urged, "this aromatherapy cannot be used in low wind mode, change it quickly."

Wang Zixu had no idea that air conditioning and aromatherapy could be coordinated with such a connected thinking. When Sartre lifted the curtain on the other side and walked in with his hands behind his back, Wang Zixu realized that he could no longer stay here.

"Social death is a good term, and it has some similarities with my theoretical direction." Sartre held his pipe in his mouth and put his hands behind his back. "Unfortunately, I am already dead, physically. A dead body cannot study any propositions.

."

How long had it been, and he was still making sarcastic remarks. The prince looked down upon him and made a silent protest: Don't chirp here after you die. You don't even have the greatest advantage of a dead person - silence.

Sartre shrugged and walked to the other side with his hands behind his back. The smile on his face looked like he was gloating:

"I suggest you don't make her wait. If she gets angry and takes off her blindfold, she will see you as an uninvited guest - there is an idiom, right? 'uninvited guest'."

You are the uninvited guest.

"According to my experience, a person who listens to white noise as a sleep aid and lies in the most comfortable position on the bed will not easily get out of bed. So I suggest you help her adjust the angle of the bed first.

Once the eldest lady is comfortable sleeping, it will be easy to open the door and go out any way you want."

Sartre finally made a somewhat useful suggestion. Wang Zixu lay down, held the rotating rod under the massage bed, and shook the bed a little.

"Move it higher... Stop, shake it back... You shook it too much! Tsk... Okay, that's it." An Younan gave orders 10 centimeters away from Wang Zixu's head while feeling the height.

If she knew there was a man so close to her, she would jump three feet high like a cat.

When he got up from the ground, Wang Zixu was already sweating profusely. This was just a thing that he felt was more thrilling than Rambo in First Blood, and probably only worse than those stunts done by Jackie Chan.

Sartre reminded him kindly: "Aromatherapy?"

Wang Zixu knelt down and flipped up the leather bag on the ground. A volume of documents fell naturally, with the cover saying:

"Wenai Acquisition Plan (Consultation Draft)"

"Oh." Sartre leaned down and stared at the contents of the bag, "An unexpected bonus!"

I don't know why, but Wang Zixu was not surprised at this time. We can get some clues from the conversation between An and Ning just now.

If Xunyi's purpose is indeed what An Younan said, then their optimal solution is obviously not to acquire Qingyan, but to acquire Wen Ai. The only thing Wang Zixu is curious about is whether they have talked to Wen Ai.

If they had negotiated with Wen Ai, why didn't he know about it? Was Zuo Ziliang involved? Did Ye Lan know about it? Or was he the only one among the three who was kept in the dark?

If you want to know these answers, you just need to take out the plan, read the content, and see if there are any records of Zuo Ziliang and Ye Lan's participation. But that's not possible now. Now An Younan is still waiting for him to get the aromatherapy

.

Wang Zixu calmly took out the blue aromatherapy diffuser from the bag and placed it on the table nearby. He didn't know how to use it, so he just tinkered with it and made the sound of doing something. Anyway, the temperature of the steam eye mask seemed to be sufficient, and it was easy to install.

Younan showed no signs of opening it up.

An Younan said: "Forget it, let's not do anything else. You can help me make an essential oil shoulder and neck massage first. I'm exhausted today. That woman is just a love brain."

Speaking of Ning Chunyan, An Younan sounded quite dissatisfied: "You can't imagine how tiring it is to communicate with the love brain. It always makes someone seem to covet her little prince. You and I have a business worth more than 10 million yuan.

Are you kidding me?

"It's ridiculous to say, a multi-million contract, if you let it out, let alone help push the contact information, tens of thousands of people are willing to give me your boyfriend, and they will break it for you.

"You said it would be okay if the little prince was her boyfriend. But it turned out to be nothing. I haven't even met him in person! It's a waste of my feelings! I also took a risk, okay? If the little prince dies in public, he is a

A bald and greasy man in his forties or fifties, with nose hairs sticking out of his nostrils like a tequila, should I sign this or not? So the love brain is really scary. The consequences of online dating are spilled out and Xunyi Lai has to bear them for her.

Already."

An Younan's words made Wang Zixu feel guilty. He stretched out his hand and touched his nostrils. The hairs on his nose stayed inside and did not grow into the shape of an agave.

Although I can’t add money to my appearance, it shouldn’t evaporate Xunyi’s market value, right?

Realizing that the person behind him was standing in a daze without moving, An Younan turned around and said, "Auntie, don't be stunned. Press quickly. Do you hear me?"

Wang Zixu and Sartre looked at each other, then turned to look at An Younan's exposed shoulders and neck. Her skin was as white as fat, and her collarbones were so thin and cute.

Sartre said: "What do you know about massage?"

"Knows a little more about cycling than a monkfish does."

"Silly boy, run away," Sartre said. "If you get started, your sentencing will take a major leap forward."

"Can you do it faster?" An Younan's tone became quite impatient, "I feel like I'm almost overwhelmed by you. Why are you so slow today?"

After An Younan said this, he suddenly fell silent and his expression became solemn.

She was thinking about something just now and didn't notice it, but now she noticed it - since her aunt came in later, she hadn't said a single word.

Wang Zixu also felt the change in her mood, and the muscles in her back became stiff. The passage of time in the room became very slow, and the wheezing sound of the humidifier was extremely harsh.

He walked to the dressing table aside and looked for essential oil bottles among the 10,000 bottles on the table. They were all in English, French, and Greek and could not be understood at all. He was just making a "ding, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong" sound, trying to prove himself to An Younan.

Doing something.

But now that the seeds of doubt have been planted, An Younan's uneasiness is rising sharply. There is only one opportunity left before she takes off the blindfold.

Sartre puffed his pipe fiercely: "What should we do now?"

"Didn't you come up with random ideas? If you had left in the first place, even if you were discovered, the sentence would have been much lighter."

At some point, the little prince wearing a windbreaker was sitting on the casual sofa nearby drinking tea, his face hidden under the spacious brim of his hat.

"The current situation, in Chinese terms, is a dying struggle, right? Or is it a trapped beast still fighting? - These two words seem to mean the same thing."

The little prince said: "I think this is called "burning the boat".

"Anyway, the fish that are caught ashore still have to jump a few times because the oxygen is not consumed fast enough."

"Don't say sarcastic words at this time."

"Without making sarcastic remarks, there seems to be no other way. Now it's just - there is no other way."

"No, my dear friend, my closest comrade-in-arms," ​​the little prince said in a leisurely tone, "you are a writer, but you always forget to use the writer's most powerful weapon to solve problems."

"A writer's most powerful weapon? The pen? Do you mean to stab her to death with the pen?" Sartre asked.

The little prince stretched out his index finger and tapped his temple: "Imagination, my friend, a writer's most powerful weapon should be imagination.

"Human beings without wings can go to heaven and sea because of the existence of imagination. Imagination is the starting point of all problems, and imagination is the beginning of all solutions. As long as the imagination is powerful enough, there should be everything in this world

There is nothing that can defeat you. In other words, all troubles come from insufficient imagination."

Sartre opened his mouth: "If your statement is correct, then our friend Wang Zixu clearly has Nobel Prize-level vision and imagination. Why does he have troubles one after another and face so many problems?"

"Because," said the little prince, "he still lacks a little courage."

In the unbearable silence, An Younan finally spoke: "Pass over my cell phone."

The order was very simple, with no redundant modifiers. It didn't say "please" or "help". It didn't say "auntie" either.

After realizing that Wang Zixu had made no move, An Younan raised his wrist with lightning speed and reached towards the blindfold. Just a second before he lifted the blindfold, he was caught by a big, kind and gentle hand.

"I'm sorry, miss. If you play with your mobile phone during sleep assistance, the magnetic field formed with great effort will be sucked away, which will seriously affect your mental energy."

"ah?!"

Hearing a man's voice from behind, An Younan was almost frightened and jumped up like a cat.

Wang Zixu lowered his voice extremely low, and the bubbles were grainy and explosive, ensuring that An Younan could not recognize that it was him. Sure enough, she did not recognize that it was him."

"Who are you?! How did you get in?! Where is auntie?!"

"Job number 1008, Chief Diamond Technician. Because you need help, I'm here."
To be continued...