Serious people who eat official match[Quick Transmigration]

Maybe it was due to concerns that the camera was still there, Song Yan spoke in a low voice, and for a moment, Lin Litian didn't even know whether he really made a sound.

"I don't remember." Lin Litian said slowly, with a tepid tone, "I don't have any impression."

Song Yan couldn't speak, and turned over again, turning his back to him.

The curtains in the room were not drawn tightly, and the light from the window poured out from that slit, illuminating the somewhat dull silhouette. Lin Litian looked over, and after a while, there was a voice, "En."

I don't know if it's because it's rare to mention it, and a seed was buried in my heart. In the middle of the night, Lin Litian had a dream.

About that whistle—

Since entering these weird little worlds, his own memory has been surrounded by the memory of the original body, and the scenes in his mind seem to be tied together by countless threads, and he has almost no way to separate himself from the reality. Let alone having a dream about reality.

And the content of the dream is still in the distant high school period.

That day the school referee team was dragged to the city gymnasium to play a provincial high school final. He was the president of the referee club and led the team.

After the game, the city hired a special car to take them back.

He sat at the front, looked out the window aimlessly, and played with the souvenirs of the referee team, the silver whistle issued to them by the Municipal Sports Bureau, which was different from ordinary whistles. This whistle was the size of a tail finger and thin. It is long, silvery white, with good texture, very delicate and beautiful, and the word "Lin" is engraved on it.

It's just that the whistle is crisp and clear, but it's not loud enough and has no practical significance. It's just a good-looking souvenir.

The grotesque dreams amplified the squeaking of the wheels rolling over the gravel, and the redness of the phoenix flowers that can be seen everywhere in the school.

The bus passed through the school square at a slow speed and headed towards the boys' dormitory.

Before that, they passed the basketball court next to the dormitory.

It is normal school time now, and it has just rained, but there is a lone figure standing on the basketball court that should be empty, wearing a white and red jersey, dribbling for a layup alone.

He looked through the car window, and the scene just stopped at the boy jumping high and throwing the ball into the basket.

The car stopped in front of the gate of the male dormitory, and the front door squeaked and opened. Other members of the referee committee passed him and got out of the car one by one. When they reached him, they turned their heads and said goodbye to him, "President, I will go first." gone."

"Goodbye, President."

"The president has worked hard."

He had a laughing voice, and the boy's brows were bright, and he responded to each of them.

After everyone got out of the car, he took the whistle back into his palm, put both hands into the pockets of his sports coat, got out of the car, and walked in the opposite direction from the crowd.

Dreams don't pay attention to logic. One second he was still the first-person view, and the next second he switched to a bystander.

He saw himself back on the basketball court, across the huge empty court, and stopped in front of another teenager.

The boy had stopped dribbling, and he was sitting slumped on the dirty ground, with his palms on the floor, one leg bent, panting heavily, his white and red jersey was smeared, and there were large mottled gray stains on it.

He recognized himself, but couldn't see the face of the boy opposite.

Then there were some chaotic pictures. For a while, he was squatting in front of the young man, his lips and teeth were open, and he was talking, and the young man lowered his head without saying a word; for a while, they were both standing, and the young man turned to leave. boy's wrist.

Between heaven and earth, there is nothing but these two people left.

At the end of the picture, he took out the whistle from his pocket and threw it into the boy's arms.

The silver parabola across the air hit the bull's-eye, and he finally heard his last words clearly.

"Send it to you."

Early the next morning, Wen Zi took the other two off for a formal "holiday".

On the contrary, the three people from the money-making group went downstairs at the latest.

Had a strange dream last night, Lin Litian woke up with a heavy breath, no one looked friendly.

He took a bottle of milk from the refrigerator with a displeased face, and baked two more slices of toast to pad his stomach.

Seeing him like this, Cen Shi was a little apprehensive and didn't dare to talk to him, so he could only gnaw his bread like a hamster.

Song Yan looked at this and that, sighed, and there was no need to shoot the show this way, so he took the initiative to be the first bird, "What are your plans for today?"

Those who spend money go out early in the morning, and those who make money are still here to eat breakfast in a leisurely manner. In the evening, they get a pair of bills. If they earn less than they spend, tomorrow they will have to deduct an extra part of what they owe today.

If this vicious cycle continues, it will definitely not make ends meet in the end, and everyone will sell themselves to the program crew.

Lin Litian didn't listen attentively, and was still thinking about the dream he had in the middle of the night, so he absently poured half a glass of milk with his head up.

He only had a very vague impression of what happened in the dream, and vaguely remembered it happened, but he couldn't remember that person's face.

Anyway, the fact that he ran into someone he didn't know on the road and gave away his souvenirs for nothing was not his style.

The dream was too scattered, with no cause and no effect, no logic, and he couldn't remember why he did it.

Empathy overflowing?

But is there any sympathy for that person in the dream?

He couldn't figure it out.

It wasn't until Song Yan repeated his question for the second time that he came back to his senses, frowned and said "ah", indicating that he didn't hear clearly.

Song Yan slid across the three invisible black lines on his temples, and repeated mechanically, "The way to make money."

Oda behind the monitor in a different space is also speechless. If this paragraph is released, the top stream will be defiant, and the actor's way of getting along with it is solid!

With her back to the director, she took out her mobile phone, logged on to her own account on Weibo, and then posted a vague post on CP Chaohua who entered normal saline:

[Normal saline is either real or I'm fake: what makes the gentle senior tolerate his deaf lover with a good temper, oh, it's love. ]

There is also a self-stamping binocular emoji package below.

Since the airport was photographed, Lin Litian and Song Yan's CP Chaochao has attracted a large wave of new fans. On average, people post within a few seconds. It is a thriving scene. Generally, no one comments on such endless posts. Praise, it sank to the bottom and disappeared within a few minutes.

Oda didn't care, and put away his phone contentedly. Anyway, when the show airs, everyone will know what shocking candy they missed!

Lin Litian pulled back his thoughts, and after hearing Song Yan's words clearly, the dark breath on his face slowed down by half, and his tone was as usual.

"Don't worry, I'll go out at night."

Cen Shi's cheeks were full, and he hesitated, "Just one night, can you earn back the money they spent?"

The money-spending items in the ancient city are gaudy, with everything you need to eat, drink, and have fun. The three-person team’s spending from morning to night cannot be underestimated. Earning it back in one night is unreliable no matter how you look at it.

"There are more people in the ancient city at night than in the morning. This is not a problem." Song Yan, who had done his homework before coming to the show, was not worried about this. Instead, he was worried about how they made the money. He said and looked at Lin Litian, " Do you have an idea already?"

Lin Litian picked up the remaining half glass of milk on the table, his Adam's apple rolling, and drank it all, "I'll find out in the evening."

He put down the empty cup, and Song Yan opposite had an inexplicable expression.

"What?" Lin Litian thought he was questioning himself, and his tone was secretly threatening.

"That glass of milk is mine." Song Yan looked at the glass with no drop left, only a small ring of milk stains on the rim, propped his elbow on the table in front of him, rested his chin with one hand, and shook his head slightly.

Lin Li added a meal.

He looked down at the table.

His milk was placed on the left hand side, and because of his convenience, he directly took the cup in front of him.

Crows flew over the heads of the three men.

The director behind the camera was also very happy, directing the camera to push the camera on the faces of the two.

Lin Litian's fingers were still circled on the wall of the empty glass. Moments later, the fingertips bounced and retracted, and the glass made a crisp sound with his movements.

"Yeah." He brushed the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, which was still stained with liquid, and shamelessly compared Song Yan's thick skin in front of the camera, "Sweeter than mine."

As he expected, Song Yan stared quietly at the small area of ​​his lower lip. Three seconds later, he picked up his glass and left the dining table, walked to the refrigerator and poured another glass of milk.

If the camera of the program group was high-definition enough, it would be able to capture Song Yan's ear tip that was half covered by the end of his hair, bleeding red.

But regardless of whether the show was filmed or not, Lin Litian still saw it.

He laughed silently, and there was a deep and deep vibration in his chest.

The bread in Cen Shi's hand was pinched out of shape, and what Zou He had said to him flashed through his mind.

When it was getting dark, the three of them left the villa together.

There is a row of B&Bs in the alley where the villa is located, and a row of bars in the next street.

The bar street has just opened for business. Some people wear traditional local costumes and hold a drink list in their hands to greet passing tourists to go in and consume.

The ancient city of Yunhe had too many people, and the bulky machines were inconvenient for filming. Except for the three follow-up shots, the director team did not send additional cameras.

The three stopped in front of one of the bars.

The neon shop sign is embedded in the slate, giving off a cold sea blue color, and a piece of dark blue square cloth is hung at the entrance of Please Bar, which is used to simply divide the area between the store and the street.

The square cloth is full of complicated and beautiful patterns, which has a unique style.

"Why did you choose this place?" Cen Shi asked at a loss.

Lin Litian: "Listen."

Song Yan listened carefully.

Unlike the noisy and noisy other bars, there are only soft pure music in the store.

"Isn't it all like this?" He also didn't understand.

Lin Litian led them in directly.

The owner of Qing Bar is a bearded man over forty years old. He is helping customers make drinks at the bar. Seeing a group of people coming in in a mighty manner, and the few following behind are still carrying cameras in their hands, he asks in a rough voice. Said: "Hey, let's talk about you, what's the matter?"

Hurry up and communicate with the photographer about the shooting.

After listening to some explanations, the owner of Qing Bar readily agreed, "There's nothing wrong with it, just shoot it well, it's an advertisement for me."

After finishing speaking, he also took a few glasses to help them pour wine, saying that he would invite them to drink.

"Sorry, I don't drink." Song Yan sat in front of the bar with an apologetic face, put the back of his hand on the wine glass, and pushed it back.

"It's okay." The boss has been running the bar for so many years, and it's not a freak for him to come to the bar without drinking. "I'll help you make a non-alcoholic drink."

Talking and getting busy.

Lin Litian supported the rim of the cup, "Boss, is there no resident singing in the store today?"

"It's been a long time." The boss shook the mixing glass in his hand and smiled wryly, "My shop is small, there are few customers, and I don't make as much money as the bars around me. It's too expensive to invite resident singers, so I stopped before. .”

Hearing this, Lin Litian looked at the empty and narrow stage, on which there was an electronic organ covered with a thin layer of dust.

Song Yan asked him in a low voice, "How do you know there is no resident singer in this bar?"

Cen Shi pointed to the old-fashioned record player in the corner that the boss bought from somewhere, and answered, "If there is a resident singer, there is no need for a record player."

Song Yan nodded with comprehension, admitting that his ears really don't have these two musical spirits.

But Cen Shi was puzzled, "But Brother Lin, why this one?"

He thought to himself that this bar is small and there are not many customers, how much money can it make?

"You can't steal other people's jobs." Lin Litian turned the wine glass under his hand, but didn't drink it.

Resident singers don't get much money for a night, and if they dominate the venue, someone will have to go without food for a day.

He knocked on the wood on the bar counter, made a bang sound, and threw out his purpose, "Boss, we will be your resident singers, and you will pay according to your salary, how about it?"

The boss doesn't chase stars, so of course he can't recognize these people. He only knows that they are stars, but he doesn't know how famous they are. After hearing this, he is happy, "You?"

"to us."

The boss pushed the non-alcoholic drink in front of Song Yan, thinking that there were not many customers anyway, so he said: "Yes, but let me make one thing clear first, if there is no effect, there will be no salary, and if you can't attract customers, once There is no money, just sing for me, no problem, right?"

Lin Litian raised his hand to clasp Song Yan's shoulder, led him towards him, and turned his head to look at him, "Is there any problem?"

"Me?" Unexpectedly, Song Yan swayed in his direction, and then looked up at the people around him in astonishment.

In order to create an atmosphere, the light in the Qing bar is dimmed, and the warm halo adds a different and charming color to Lin Litian's already outstanding and stunning appearance, pretending to be an extremely contradictory image of flirtatious and affectionate, completely invisible appearance.

Song Yan was dazzled for a moment.

"He said it's okay." Lin Litian made a final decision to the boss before Song Yan could react.

The boss pointed them twice with his index finger, and laughed heartily, "You young people are able to toss, but when I was your age, I was more tossed than you."

After all, I went to the stage to help them debug the equipment.

"What can I do when I go up?" Song Yan couldn't shake off the strength on his shoulders, and secretly cursed that he was dizzy, his throat was tight, and he began to speak nonsense, "Should I go up and introduce the Stanislavsky system to them or A life-and-death monologue of Hamlet right on the spot?"

--------------------

The author has something to say:

Just tell me if I grow up today!