The joyful day passed as quickly as the wind. Luo Binhan originally thought that nothing would go wrong. Jing Huang never started a fight with anyone, Yaleriga didn't find a new victim, and of course no cosmic monster fell from the sky. If Yaleriga hadn't exposed her horns, Luo Binhan would have almost had the illusion that he was actually taking a group of out-of-town friends sightseeing.
He had to admire Yaleriga's method of concealing her appearance. Specifically, she did almost nothing technical. A pair of dark wide-leg pants and flat boots hid her hooves well. She wore a sun-visible straw hat decorated with silk flowers and lace gauze, but deliberately exposed her horns, and applied a layer of sparkling gel on them.
Luo Binhan didn't know whether this would help deceive the detection equipment, but it could make the real pair of horns look light and fake, like some kind of paper model or plastic product. In this way, when she walks down the street wearing a casual shirt, everyone will think that it is a joke hat decoration, or a display requirement for some event. And when they enter a place like an amusement park, people will only think of asking to take a photo with Yaleriga or touch her horns. One girl praised Yaleriga's decoration as "very high-quality", but said euphemistically and regretfully: If there were not those overly thick protective coatings on the surface, it would be truly perfect.
"Perfect, huh?" Luo Binhan lowered his voice and teased Yaleriga, "What would she say if she saw your super movable simulated tail?"
He felt very proud, after all, Yaleriga couldn't whip her tail out in front of everyone. But this pride was soon suppressed, because Yaleriga bought each of them a plastic pointed headdress that shimmered. Before Luo Binhan could say that this thing was only suitable for those under ten years old, Momolo had already enthusiastically put it on his head and ran to join the children who were also wearing little angel or little devil headdresses.
Luo Binhan admitted that he sometimes likes to follow the trends of young people, but when Jing Huang puts on a plastic horn on his head with a bad face, he feels that he really cannot join the trend. He is not the little prince of Fairy Castle who will always be sixteen years old, but an adult man who is almost thirty years old. In Yu Xiaorong's eyes, a thirty-year-old man has already half stepped into the grave. For a dying man, nothing is more important than worldly reputation.
When Yaleriga and Jing Huang surrounded him, he still said unyieldingly: "I want to protect my social reputation..."
Of course, he protected nothing, and humiliatingly added a backpack with little devil wings (quite symmetrical to Zhou Zhi's little angel backpack) to store any small souvenirs that Yaleriga bought on impulse. . He could completely imagine what this scene would look like from an outsider's perspective - a budget-burning female devil and her low-level demon servant with fifty-cent props. Fortunately, he finally found happiness from Jing Huang because he bought a plastic sniper water gun with an extra-long magazine. And now that he has such a happy gun, the social reputation of a thirty-year-old man is irrelevant. Not to mention that surrounded by so many witnesses, Jing Huang couldn't do anything to him. Everything went so smoothly and I was so happy. But after entering the dimly lit haunted house, he would inevitably suffer revenge.
When he checked in to enter the haunted house, he was well-dressed, but when he left, he was a drowned rat. His water gun was snatched away the moment the lights went out, and then he was attacked from all directions like a ghost, so that the staff playing the ghost could not get close to him. And when they approached the exit, the water gun was mysteriously returned to his hand. The magazine was empty, and a piece of melted plastic blocked the muzzle.
Luo Binhan held an empty gun and faced the shocked and confused gazes of the staff, all wet. The last measure he took to save his face was to stand still and show a faint water ghost-like smile to the confused person.
"There is really a ghost here..." he whispered in a mysterious voice.
He pushed the real murderer away, hoping to leave a local legend about the haunted ghosts in the haunted house.
Except for the scrapped water gun, the fierce ghost did not cause trouble at other times during the day, so Luo Binhan could still say that it was a smooth day. And no one in their group was happier than Momolo. Being surrounded by a group of screaming and running indigenous cubs seemed to give him a very strong sense of belonging. He said happily during lunch: "People here are very happy, Mr. Luo! It feels like everyone is so happy that it is a bit unreal, as if monsters will fall from the sky in the next second!"
Luo Binhan quickly asked him to give up this idea, and threatened that if a monster really appeared at this time, it would definitely be brought about by Momolo's evil wish. After saying this, he was secretly nervous for a while, but nothing happened. Only Jing Huang looked at the two of them contemptuously while poking the cream cake with his fork.
"What do you think will happen?" he asked Luo Binhan sarcastically, "Now that 0312 is here, how can other foreign objects dare to come here?"
"Why didn't you talk about you and Chen Wei?" Luo Binhan asked him, "Are you both less useful than Fake?"
"That guy is a Wuyuan man, and he is good at building positions. He has stayed here for so long, and he should have made many arrangements."
"You just watch him arrange the arrangements?" Luo Binhan said dissatisfiedly, "He arranges the arrangements for you too! How can you be compared with a bald head!"
Jing Huang's eyes wandered. He bluntly and vaguely said that he did have arrangements, or Luo Binhan thought he heard similar words. But when he asked Jing Huang to repeat it clearly, the latter ignored him. Luo Binhan did not feel disappointed. To be honest, he was satisfied enough that he could drag Jing Huang into the crowd in broad daylight today.
"But having said that, we have no reason to attract monsters here." He happily sucked on the iced Coke and said, "I know it's like this in the show, but what on earth do we have here that is worthy of monsters crossing a universe to plunder? Energy? Population? ? I found that they spent more on things on the way here than they could possibly grab, and their stay was not necessarily very comfortable - we are here in the African jungle in the universe, and no one would want to invade here."
He thought of 0206 who died locally, so he added: "Except for the desperate wanted criminals, they are the only ones who would go into the jungle."
Momolo said innocently: "But Mr. Luo, there are many treasures in your jungle."
"You watched our programs on my TV, didn't you?" Luo Binhan said, "I really don't mind you watching my collection of adventure movies, although most of them are nonsense. By the way, don't go into my private Favorites, okay? The one labeled 'for insomnia'."
"Why, Mr. Luo?"
"It's not healthy for you." Luo Binhan said enigmatically.
He didn't let Momolo continue to ask any more questions, because that was definitely super content for the Yongguang Clan. In order to divert Momolo's attention, they also arranged a sufficiently fulfilling itinerary for the afternoon. Lihai City is not a place famous for tourism and does not have many special attractions, but Momolo is quite easy to satisfy. It seems that just putting him in a group of interactive natives will make him extremely happy. And in places like city history museums or art galleries, he tried to memorize all the content introduced.
Luo Binhan discovered that he also brought a small notebook for copying paintings and landscapes. He asked Momolo incomprehensibly if this was necessary, and Momolo told him that he learned this from observing others. Luo Binhan really wanted to know what programs he watched during his absence.
The day just passed. It was calm and dizzying. And surprisingly it didn’t cost much. That's because everyone seems to have a lack of interest in expensive to exquisite souvenirs. Zhouba is satisfied with her little angel backpack, and Momolo's little notebook has already copied many paintings and even sketches of several of them. Those paintings are not necessarily very artistic, but they are very accurate. The straight lines and arcs are so perfect that they look like they were made with tools. The viewer can intuitively recognize what he depicts.
On the way back, Luo Binhan looked through Momolo's notebook with interest to recall their day's itinerary. These precise and objective paintings reminded him of all the woven dolls Momolo had given him. He couldn't help but marvel at Momolo's versatility. But at the same time, he also found that, unlike the simple and cute knitted dolls, Momolo's paintings strangely lacked a kind of vitality. He couldn't give a professional evaluation, but he just thought they were a bit cold. Those strokes are so perfect and neat. The painter only faithfully and accurately recorded the position of the objects shown by the light, but the atmosphere in his memory did not exist in the painting. He suspected that Momolo was not having a good time, but when he secretly looked at the owner of the notebook, he found that the latter was enthusiastically and attentively playing a clapping game learned from local children on Saturday.
Luo Binhan fell into deep thought. He was wondering to what extent the work could restore the author's personality and temperament, or whether it was just a matter of pure technique. Inconsistency between inner and outer performance. Or, Momolo doesn't really understand the real connection between human emotions and various symbolic expressions. Those complex reactions are regarded as advanced, but this may not be the case for the Yongguang tribe. They are the shadowless peaks where the sun shines high, and what they ignore, what they never understand, is what lies beneath the jungle. Those damp places with overgrown weeds and tangled branches. There, there are noisy insects and rotting grass. It never sees the light of day, but it becomes the foundation of lush forests.
He fell asleep in his thoughts about the jungle, and Jing Huang didn't wake him up until the bus arrived.
"You should stop here, right?" He heard Jing Huang say in a daze, "This is the closest to Zhou Yu's house."
Luo Binhan rubbed his eyes and got out of the car. When the bus drove away, he was surprised that Jing Huang actually knew what the bus route was. He also found that he was still holding Momolo's small notebook in his hand, but there was nothing to worry about. He could return it to its original owner tomorrow.
It was almost dark, but Zhou Yu was not at home. Luo Binhan sent him a message, but did not receive any reply. This was nothing unusual. He estimated that Zhou Yu was going through a busy night in the laboratory and might not be able to come back until early morning or the next morning. He originally wanted to cook himself a dinner and listen to some news or popular programs, but the silence in the room made him unable to adapt.
He soon couldn't stay any longer. So he left a message for Zhou Yu and walked downstairs again. This time he didn't need to wander aimlessly, but went straight to Guns N' Roses. He plans to continue trying his luck on the mission of "Ambush the Sword Immortal" tonight. Even if he couldn't meet her, it didn't matter. He thought it was interesting to chat with Chen Wei. Now that he knew her a little, he no longer thought she was so mysterious and intimidating, as long as she didn't let her send him home.
As a result, he didn't even see Chen Wei. When he got through the small entrance of Guns N' Roses, the only familiar face he saw - or rather a familiar figure - was the red-haired man sitting in the corner. The drinks and meals on his table were exactly the same as before. His clothing, sitting posture, and the angle of his notebook were also exactly the same. Every detail seemed to have reappeared yesterday. Only his hair looked less groomed. From the rhythm of his typing on the keyboard, Luo Binhan vaguely sensed a bit of bad mood.
There was no need to provoke a person who was busy with anger, so Luo Binhan tiptoed around the counter and knocked on the door three times, but there was no response. He studied the handle again and found no structure that looked like a keyhole. When he tried to reach out and twist it, the door to the lounge opened easily.
There is no one in the room. The place where he and Chen Wei sat yesterday had been tidied up, and the books scattered on the bed seemed to be the same. The gorgeous nutcracker was placed beside the bed. Luo Binhan waved his hand at it and retracted his head out of the door.
The girl who once carefully looked at Chen Wei did not come today. Only the red-haired man occupied the store, and he seemed very at ease. Luo Binhan stood idle in front of the counter and glanced at him, imagining some bizarre plots in his mind: maybe this red-haired man was the reclusive swordsman he was looking for. He sat here pretending to be a guest every day, using his laptop to interact with the universe. The huge forces in the world communicated with each other, and by the way, they colluded with Chen Wei to make a prank against him. On the surface, he is a socially anxious foreigner, but in fact he has extraordinary acting skills and can pretend to be another person at any time - otherwise, how can we explain his fluent and standard Chinese? A foreigner who doesn't talk to anyone all day can't pronounce his words so well. He would practice secretly where Luo Binhan couldn't see him. Another hypothesis is that the red hair and white skin are all disguises. He is actually a local swordsman who just wants to find a reason not to talk to others. There is nothing impossible about this. If Jing Huang could avoid talking to Chen Wei, he would definitely voluntarily turn into a pelican for this purpose.
With all kinds of wild imagination, he poured himself a glass of Coke on the counter, and then walked slowly to the red-haired man's table. When he got within three meters, the other person had half closed the computer and looked at him with alert eyes. Luo Binhan didn't show any embarrassment, but smiled and sat down next to him.
"Remember me?" he asked cheerfully.
The red-haired man probably didn't want to answer. But Luo Binhan's constant smile and gaze must have told him that the other party would not leave him alone. He nodded very reluctantly: "What do you want?"
"I see you come here often." Luo Binhan said.
"I come here occasionally, but I've never been inside."
Now Luo Binhan knew that the other party did remember him. He continued in a warm tone like an old friend: "I am a friend of the staff here. You know, the girl brought me in yesterday. She is so easy to talk to me."
He knew that the fake smile on his face at this moment must be quite disgusting. But, interestingly enough, he found that introverts tend to fall into this trap. That's not to say that they can become good friends, but that such people are always unwilling to spend too much effort to get rid of a shameless pester. They will tend to escape and cast their sights on the distant sky or an unreachable exit. Since their thoughts have fled to the quiet place of fantasy, their mouths will become looser on things that have nothing to do with themselves.
Sure enough, the red-haired man just stared at him for a few seconds, then quickly turned away as if to avoid a puddle of filth, and regarded the cluster of paper roses on the wall as his new spiritual home.
"I'm a little curious about who the owner of this store is." Luo Binhan said as if he didn't see anything. "This store is open... Look at the layout. It's funny. I heard that the owner is a young man who only knows how to spread money. "
"It's not like that," the red-haired man said coldly. He tried to express his distaste for such gossip in his tone, but he did so harshly, which showed that he had not often encountered such rudeness in his life.
Luo Binhan deliberately showed a look of disbelief on his face. This extra performance was actually unnecessary because the other party didn't even look at him. However, his frivolous and dismissive tone certainly did not miss the other party's ears.
"What's so different about him?" Luo Binhan said. "At first glance, this person looks like a rich second generation with no ability. He dreams all day long and thinks he has a lot of personality. He shouts that he wants to start his own business, and then he spends a lot of money They spend the money of the old man in the family. Of course, they first engage in some fashionable but useless industries, and in the end they fail miserably. They also pretend that they have suffered some huge grievances. I have seen many such people, the little ancestors of rich families. It’s basically I can’t afford any hardship.”
He made a tut of jealousy and disdain. The red-haired man's frown deepened. This is a person who will consciously pay the bill even if the shop owner is not around. He is naturally an upright and orderly person, or he may have a good relationship with the shop owner. Luo Binhan saw his shortness of breath and knew that this regular customer had been irritated by him and would soon utter some words of defense about the shop owner.
"If you think everyone has nothing to do like you," the red-haired man said coldly, "you can go and see his truck. It drives here at 4:30 every morning. He moves the goods. You don't look like...what did you mean? 'The little ancestor of a rich family'."
Luo Binhan grinned. Part of it was to continue teasing the other person, and the other part was out of genuine satisfaction that the trick had succeeded. "At half past four every day!" he said, "Do you stare at him at this time every night? Or do you listen to him complaining to you like this?"
"He didn't tell me," the red-haired man said in a tone of suppressed anger, "but I live here..."
Luo Binhan was waiting for his next words with all his attention, like a fisherman holding his floating rod. He already had a premonition that he was about to reap a harvest, but things just didn't go so well - the store door was pushed open at this moment, and a tall, thin, dark-skinned middle-aged man walked in.
The appearance of the new guest immediately interrupted the red-haired man's testimony. To make matters worse, a look of alarm appeared on the latter's face. He pursed his lips tightly and looked at Luo Binhan suspiciously. The trap concocted by stoking anger has been seen through. Luo Binhan knew that he would not be able to dig out any more information from him tonight, and if he didn't get away immediately, the other party might even call the police.
He looked with some annoyance at the uninvited guest who had spoiled his good fortune. But once he saw the other person's appearance clearly, the expression on his face became as stiff as the red-haired man just now. He stood up quickly and silently and walked to the table furthest from the red-haired man. A middle-aged man in a black shirt walked towards him. When he sat down in front of Luo Binhan, Luo Binhan had already adjusted his face into a slightly guilty smile. He shifted slightly so that the new guest's body was between him and the red-haired man. There will be opportunities in the future, he thought in his heart, it is best not to let the red hair see his change of face.
The new visitor looked at him with a soft, well-controlled expression. This is a face that has experienced many vicissitudes of life, thin and wrinkled, with an unhealthy burnt yellow color. Generally speaking, this face is suitable for a weathered farmer or a penniless scavenger. Only his eyes showed unusual shrewdness and coldness. For those with a weak personality, it would be painful to confront these eyes.
Luo Binhan was facing such a pair of eyes. But he didn't suffer much at this moment, because in the final analysis, these were just eyes of twin mortal bodies. His thoughts had wandered far away, and his expression and posture were appropriately modest. Part of his mind was counting quietly:
One, two, three, four, five.
He lowered his head slowly, avoiding eye contact, like a feline expressing friendship and submission. Then he gently fiddled with his Coke cup, as if he was embarrassed by the scene in front of him. Through the reflection of the cup, he could see that the other party also had a tolerant and understanding attitude like a loving father.
He understood that the other party was waiting for him to speak, and the atmosphere of the scene was already about the same. So he sighed, smiled meekly, almost shyly, and said, "I thought it would take at least a week."
The man who played the role of loving father gave him a slight nod. Perhaps years of personnel work have made this person better at handling gestures. Luo Binhan could accurately read the intention he wanted to express: criticism of the nonsense, joy at the return of the wanderer, and praise for the calm response. One person could express so many attitudes in just one gesture. Luo Binhan really wanted to take a video of him for study.
"Back." He said.
Luo Binhan then said: "Back."
The other party put a thin hand on his shoulder. Luo Binhan relaxed the muscles there, allowing the other party to pat him soothingly. That attitude finally satisfied the other party, and he said a joking greeting to Luo Binhan: "How was it in the African jungle?"
"It's not as exciting as here." Luo Binhan said, "The life there is too monotonous. It doesn't matter what you want. Business, money, nightclubs, nothing. It's too boring. Too boring. I find that without these, my life is not interesting at all. No. To be honest, Africa is bare everywhere, so here we are a good place to find excitement."
They laughed together.
