Chapter 11 Today is a day for salted fish
by+++
date="2020-12-08"
title="Chapter 11 Today is a day for salted fish "
weight="109008"
series = ["I Woke up and Was Pregnant"]
mode = "manual"
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The exclamation point of the custard bag was sent too fast. Fu Zhen's mobile phone was too old to respond. After a while, all the exclamation points sent by the custard bag were spit out, and then a lot of rainbow farts were spit out.
[Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, my wife I am going to cry]
[I licked the screen for five minutes just now]
[Our custard is saved. Mom is going to cry]
...
Fu Zhen couldn't laugh or cry at these words.
[Is there anything else that needs to be modified? ]
[Without my wife, I love you so much]
The draft that Fu Zhen sent over was the most satisfying one she has seen in the past few years when she asked for a draft. Some of the painters she had found before had not read the "Shazhou Chronicle" at all, and some were watching Past but not cute custard cp, some painters are not good, anyway, no matter how complete the picture is, it always feels a little worse.
But Jian Wen’s draft is different, giving her the illusion that she is not looking at the fan art, but the original. The custard bag is so excited that she can’t sleep with this sketch, and now she only hopes her wife can paint As good as his draft.
Thinking of this, the custard bag couldn’t help but clicked into Fu Zhen’s Weibo to take a look, and then was disappointed to find that all his photo albums were really sketches, and none of them were colored. This fairy lady wouldn’t be. Just learned coloring.
However, think it is worth buying such a draft custard bag.
I remembered that during the day the friends said that they would find a small transparent draft when their brains were filled with water. The custard bag was about to give the sketches that they got to the friends, and then quietly waited for the worship of the friends the sound of.
However, the idea of the friends is completely off the track.
[Qianwei is really amazing]
[It's the custard in my heart, crying crying]
[The bag has no white flowers in these two thousand and two, I declare the first place in this year's custard]
[It feels different from the style of Qiangwei before, but it's closer to the original. Qiangwei is really tricky]
...
Seeing that my friends all agreed that this fanfigure was painted by Gong Qiangwei, the custard bag had to come out to clarify.
[This is painted by Mrs. Jian Wen]
Then her friends asked questions from the soul: Who is Jian Wen?
Custard had to explain to them that Jian Wen was the transparent painter she had told them before.
So in the next minute, the exclamation marks and rainbow farts sent by the custard bag to Fu Zhen reappeared in this group again. No one would have thought that a small transparent painter with a asking price of one hundred and five could draw a level of 1,500.
The next thing Fu Zhen needs to do is to import the sketches and color them. He hasn’t done this work for more than two years. This is why he told the custard bag that this color insert takes five days to complete. After getting acquainted with it all, it was too late, and Fu Zhen turned off the computer and put down the phone, and fell asleep.
The next morning, Fu Zhen opened the door of the room and saw Jiang Hengshu standing at the door of the living room with luggage. He was wearing a black windbreaker, carrying a black suitcase in his hand, and carrying a dignified suit. Chill broke into Fu Zhen's world with the wind and snow outside.
The sound of the beating heart is like beating a drum, and it is a moving prelude to the sound of the howling wind. Fu Zhen thought he was dreaming. He raised his hand and rubbed his eyes, blinking, Jiang Hengshu was still standing there, his expression sparse cold.
Fu Zhen was so excited that he didn't know what expression to make on his face. He had no hope of Jiang Hengshu moving into this rental house, but now he saw him as soon as he opened the door.
The long night is gone, and one glance at ten thousand years.
After seeing the house, Jiang Hengshu signed a three-month rental contract with the landlord, but he shouldn't be able to live here for that long. After this business is done, he will return to Jiang's family to take over the family business.
Jiang Hengshu took the key from the landlord and put his luggage in the room. When he closed the door and turned to work, he found that Fu Zhen was still waiting for him in the living room.
Fu Zhen laughed, his eyes crooked, as if he had met some happy event. He asked Jiang Hengshu, "Want to go together?"
Jiang Hengshu nodded, and went out of the rental house with Fu Zhen. In the old stairwell, the two people's footsteps intertwined, echoing the sound of knocking on the wall upstairs.
The bus in the morning was extremely crowded. Fu Zhen’s entire body was almost on Jiang Hengshu’s body. Jiang Hengshu’s right hand was supporting one of the armrests, and his left hand was resting on the back of the seat. From a distance, it seemed that It is to protect Fu Zhen in his encirclement.
There were more and more people on the bus, the air became muddy, and the noise of passengers was heard. Fu Zhen spent every morning at work like this, but today he looked at the tall building going away from the bus window. felt peaceful for the first time.
The bus passed another stop, Jiang Hengshu raised his hand and patted Fu Zhen's shoulder: "Sit there."
Fu Zhen turned his head, Jiang Hengshu stood in front of him, his brows were clear, just like the day he first saw him.
...
Tang Wanwan, who has been filming outside, finally returned to Pinghai City today. After getting off the plane, she hurried back to Fu's house.
Knowing that Tang Wanwan was going home today, Fu Ting came back from the company earlier. When he got home, Tang Wanwan had already been waiting for him at home for a while.
Seeing that Fu Ting was back, Tang Wanwan stepped forward and took Fu Ting's arm: "Brother, I miss you so much."
A smile flashed in Fu Ting's eyes. He patted the back of Tang Wanwan's hand lightly: "I don't think I will be back sooner."
"The crew is too busy this time."
Fu Ting said, "Don't be too tired."
Tang Wanwan responded and begged Fu Ting coquettishly, "Brother, I want to film the Shazhou Chronicle of the recent Internet fire, but the director of the Shazhou Chronicle that I can't contact, can you help me? "
Fu Ting was stunned for a moment, his expression in a daze, and then asked again after a while: "Shazhou Chronicle?"
"Yeah, yeah." Tang Wanwan nodded heavily. In fact, she hadn't watched this anime. She always thought that anime children could only watch it, but since it can be hailed as the light of anime in China , There should be many merits. Moreover, many producers now intend to buy the copyright of this play in order to support the newcomers in their own hands. Naturally, Tang Wanwan does not want this opportunity to fall into the hands of others.
Tang Wanwan has seen the introduction of "Shazhou Chronicle". If it is adapted properly, this should be a very good main heroine drama. She wants to use this drama to consolidate her position, and also wants to use it This drama has several awards that I have not won this year.
Fu Ting's expression looked a little strange. He asked Tang Wanwan: "Do you have to make this one?"
"Can't you film it?" Tang Wanwan stared with two big eyes, Fu Ting stuck in his throat when Fu Ting refused, "...I may not find the director of the Shazhou Chronicle."
Tang Wanwan heard Fu Ting's words and pouted unhappily.
After a while, Fu Jianchen walked downstairs. He is over forty years old this year. Not only did he not leave too many traces on his body, but he added countless charms to him, looking at his favorite daughter. Fu Jianchen smiled and asked, "What's the matter? Who made our little princess upset?"
As soon as Tang Wanwan saw Fu Jianchen coming down, he immediately let go of Fu Ting's arm, trot in the direction of Fu Jianchen, and begged him: "Dad, I want to take the Shazhou Chronicles. Can you help me buy the copyright? ?"
Fu Jianchen also felt that the name seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard of it. He said casually: "Just let your brother do this."
Tang Wanwan's mouth began to hang oil bottles again, and she said: "My brother said he could not find the director of the Shazhou Chronicle."
"Just find someone to check it."
"Dad is the best." Tang Wanwan stood on tiptoe and kissed Fu Jianchen's left cheek, then she told him embarrassedly, "Dad, that Qin Zhao asked me to go out on a date. I won't eat at home at night. Up."
Fu Jianchen said, "Go, come back early."
"I know." Tang Wanwan stepped on high heels and ran to his room upstairs, preparing for the date tonight.
After Tang Wanwan left, Fu Jianchen walked down the stairs, sat down on the sofa, and said to Fu Ting, "Wanwan wants to shoot, so you can help her spend some snacks."
"Shazhou Chronicle..." Fu Ting exhaled and said to Fu Jianchen, "Four years ago, we set up a small studio for Fu Zhen. He did an anime called Shazhou Chronicle."
Fu Jianchen was stunned for a moment. He didn't know why. These days, he always recalled many things in his youth inexplicably, and most of these old things were related to Fu Zhen.
He dreamed that little Fu Zhen was sitting in the pool holding the yellow duckling and seeing that he came back from the company. He threw down the duckling and crawled out of the water with both arms. As a result, he could not stand firmly and he raised his head and fell again. Into the pool
I dreamed that when he was in kindergarten, he was unwilling to leave home, holding his pants and unwilling to let go, crying and hiccuping, but he and Fu Ting were laughing endlessly;
I also dreamed that he slept with himself when he was very young. He would ride on Fu Jianchen’s stomach every morning when he woke up. He raised his pajamas, giggling and patted his belly until Fu Jianchen was overwhelmed. Open your eyes, pick up this little bastard, and it's over.
...
And these dreams are often accompanied by Fu Zhen falling into a pool of blood, looking at him with a resentful look.
Fu Jianchen's complexion is not very good. It seems that someone has put a nail in his head, and he will bleed if he is careful.
There was dead silence in the living room. After a while, he whispered to Fu Ting: "Since Wanwan wants to shoot, you can find someone to buy the copyright in his hand."
The author has something to say: Although he is still in a pool of blood, there is no such thing as a miscarriage! There will never be!
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