Noon, in the arrangement studio.
Xu Qingyan was checking over the sheet music he had painstakingly transcribed. The music for "What I Miss" had finally taken shape, which meant that he had initially mastered the ability to transcribe music.
Although he had relied on a little outside help, it didn't matter.
After triple-checking that everything was correct, he played it safe. Instead of sending it directly to Lin Wanzhou's team's email, he sent it to her personal email.
The email sank like a stone in the ocean; there was still no response from Lin Wanzhou.
The number on his Weibo account still stubbornly stuck at 99+, which Xu Qingyan had never clicked to view. Glancing at the time, he estimated he'd have the afternoon free to look for apartments.
The luxury complex was nice, but with limited funds in hand, it was just a temporary refuge. He'd look for his own place once he got paid; borrowing a car wasn't a problem, but he couldn't really overstay his welcome at someone's home.
Pei Muchan would joke from time to time that Xu Qingyan was like a god of wealth.
Giving money or not, both were troublesome. Crashing was fine since they got along well, but he still needed to be mindful of boundaries in order to maintain a relationship long-term.
Knock-knock-knock, there was a knock on the door.
The arrangement studio wasn't big: just a table with a computer loaded with arranging software and a range of accessories, which essentially constituted the core equipment.
Explore stories on M V L
Leaving the arranging studio, he intended to invite Pei Muchan to lunch, but he found she had left early.
Initially, Xu Qingyan thought Pei Muchan had just gone out to eat by herself, but when she didn't return all afternoon, he could only slump over his office desk and start searching for apartments on his phone.
For young people entering society, the first real lesson is about renting an apartment.
In the past, provisions were arranged before the troops were dispatched; now, without a job, the cattle shed is already in order. All around the village, most cattle sheds had their prices clearly marked by real estate agents.
Xinghai City is a first-tier city, with more agents than dogs.
"Is the apartment still available?"
...
Zhao Daxing was a real estate agent in his early thirties. At an age neither young nor old, he had senselessly married, burdened with car loans and a mortgage back in his hometown that weighed him down.
Misfortunes tend to strike when least expected, and only the truly unfortunate are targeted.
His once robust father had passed away the year before last, clutching his hand by the hospital bed, expressing his pain—a bitter taste that lingered from the grave-side incense to the Liqun cigarette dangling from his lips.
The co-signed mortgage he had promised before marriage had now become his sole worry.
Buzz-buzz-buzz!
The phone vibrated, and Zhao Daxing hurriedly answered the call.
"Hey, hello, you the one who scheduled an appointment to view the apartment? Where are you? I'll come pick you up; it's no trouble. Biking through the streets to view the apartments can be quite convenient."
"Got it, ten minutes, I'll be there shortly."
Zhao Daxing mounted his electric bike, snapped on his helmet, and started to weave crazily through the traffic. Darting through several streets, he finally found the person who had just gotten down from their car.
The guy looked young, probably in his twenties. Wearing a baseball cap and mask, he only showed a pair of eyes that hinted at a decent outer appearance.
Turning back, Zhao Daxing realized the guy had driven an Audi A8 to look for an apartment. In the heart of Xinghai, demanding a thousand-yuan room, his anxiety was almost too much to bear.
"Hello, are you Mr. Ji?"
"Yes, just call me Ji Chengdie," Xu Qingyan locked his car, then turned to see Zhao Daxing pulling out his phone as if to take a picture, which made him pause for a moment.
"What are you doing?"
"Live streaming, Mr. Ji, I wanted to inform you in advance," Zhao Daxing tilted the camera down, said helplessly, "It's a task from my company, to promote the company through short videos."
"Once a week, and I'm about to fail to complete it. If you see... it won't capture your face, could you please understand? We're both just workers."
"This is too much trouble for you. I better change to another real estate agency," Xu Qingyan didn't know what morals were, so how could he possibly be held hostage?