MTL - Waiting Upon You-~ Act Nine Key [Repair]

Ling Lang's answer seemed to have been anticipated by the agent. He was not surprised, but just nodded.

"Can I see him this time?"

The agent stood embarrassed.

"It's so difficult to meet him?"

The agent grinned cautiously, "You know, no one in the world has ever seen Mr. Mo."

"I see," Ling Lang changed the subject, "how did you do last time?"

"What's the matter?" The agent pretended to be stupid.

Ling Lang didn't speak, the two of them were so exhausted, and finally the agent couldn't hold on.

"Oh, you talk about advertising," said the agent, Wang Tian. "No news yet."

"It's been six months and I can't receive an advertisement?" Ling Lang sneered. "How failed my actor is."

"Hey, how can you think that," the agent quickly calmed him, "No, it's because no one can afford it. Everyone is scared away when they hear the endorsement fee."

"Then reduce the price."

"How do you do that!" The agent resolutely opposed, "This is not just a matter of advertising costs, it involves your worth!"

Ling Lang was silent, and the agent slowly solved him, "Look, since you debuted, it has not been received an advertisement for a whole ten years ..."

"So can't you try it now?"

"Shooting advertisements has no artistic value, and is tiring and boring. It depends on the manufacturers' eyes, which is really not suitable for you."

Seeing that Lang Lang was silent, the agent had to use all his powers and move with affection and reason, "You don't worry about eating now, don't worry about wearing, and you can't use up your pay ..."

Ling Lang interrupted him. "You are probably the only agent in the world who is trying to prevent artists from receiving advertisements."

The agent smiled awkwardly.

"Actually your salary has never been paid from my income."

"This one……"

Ling Lang's eyes were sharp, the agent avoided being able to avoid it, and the two were deadlocked for a long time. The agent had to simply admit, "You're right, that's what you guessed. My previous employer was Mr. Mo. Like you, signing Ye's is just A cover, but ... "

He circled the room. "For all these years, do you know how much I paid to maintain your high profile image? How many interviews have I pushed and how many journalists have I blocked? No matter what activities you don't want to go to You do n’t have to say a word. In the circle, you can offend whoever you want to offend. The vendors that have come to your endorsement in ten years have been rejected by me so that they can circle the earth five times! "

He waved his hands excitedly, "I worked hard to shape you into this image, and now you actually told me to take advertisements?"

The agent sat down on the sofa next to Ling Lang. "In those days, Mr. Mo appointed me to follow you, just to let you do whatever you want in this circle, no need to sell yourself, no joke, no advertising, nothing!"

"Now, although Mr. Mo no longer pays for your living expenses, your savings and income are enough for you to spend, there is no need to go out to do that kind of rough work."

"Listen to me, you can continue to maintain your original image. I'll arrange the rest, OK?" The agent's voice was lowered a bit, "Not to mention, even if you go out to shoot ads now, Mr. Mo will not come If you stop him, you will still not see him. "

Ling Lang closed his eyes and fell back, "Are you still employed by him?"

"No," the agent shook his head. "When Mr. Mo's contract with you expired, he also officially terminated the contract with me."

"Have you never seen him once?"

"No, we are contacted by phone every time."

The room was quiet for a long time before Ling Lang's voice sounded.

"I just want to thank him in person, not even that?"

There was no answer, only the agent sighed heavily and completely broke his thoughts.

The assistant sat in the car eating potato chips while the agent came out of Ling Lang's house.

No one has entered Ling Lang's house except a broker, and even her personal assistant is no exception.

The assistant read a magazine and ate two packs of potato chips. While unpacking the third pack, the agent pulled the door of the driver's seat and got into the car.

"Why is it so long today?"

The agent mumbled, "Neither of the two great gods is good at serving."

"Two?" The assistant was chewing potato chips. "Which two?"

The agent who was just starting the car remembered one thing, let go of the stall and turned over, "Did you leak the photo on the set?"

The assistant looked away from the car window. "Ah, how nice the weather is today."

Ling Lang walked to the room on the other side of the living room. This room was empty. There was only a hanging LCD screen hanging alone on the wall. A vase was placed on the shelf on the side, and two sunflowers were inserted in the vase.

He knelt down in the middle of the room, and for ten years, this movement has become a habit, like a fixed ritual.

He knew that when he was kneeling here, Mr. Mo would clearly see his every move from the TV, and the other person ’s camera was always facing the sun flower on the writing desk, even the sound was processed by the voice changer. The agent was right. No one in the world knew the truth about Mr. Mo.

Everyone in this circle doesn't know Mr. Mo. Everyone wants to meet him. One word of Mr. Mo is more useful than many hidden rules. How many people can't even touch Mr. Mo's shadow. Ling Lang is very lucky to be able to connect with Mr. Mo once a week.

But that was already half a year ago.

"Mr. Mo."

There will be no response, but the other party's voice has already taken root in his heart.

--You came.

"I picked up your film."

--well.

"But I'm scared ..."

-What are you afraid of?

"I'm afraid of that person."

——You are not afraid of that person, you are afraid of your heart *.

——Our agreement has passed and you are free now.

There was a moment of silence.

"Can I use that thing?"

— Of course, that's your freedom.

Ling Lang came to the bedroom, opened the safe at the bedside, took out the locked safe, and opened it. Inside, there were nine boxes of the same size.

When he received the package with Mr. Mo's name from the courier, it was one of them.

After that, Mr. Mo will give him one every year. For nine consecutive years, the style of each year is different, except for the last year. That year, Linglang received it free.

--what do you mean?

That day he heard Mr. Mo's voice on the phone for the first time-through a voice changer.

——I want to support you for ten years.

--Do not make jokes!

——You can rest assured that I will not touch you or allow others to touch you. I will protect you. No one can force you.

——I will help you clear all obstacles on the road, let you do what you want to do, and help you reach the peak of your career.

——What are your conditions? Why did you send me this?

——What I give you is not for you to wear it. I want to use it to let you remember who you are.

-It is not locked in your body, but in your heart. In these ten years, I want you to guard me like a jade for me, and I can't have anyone else in my heart.

——This is my condition, can you do it?

The past reappeared in Ling Lang's heart. At the end of the memory, the objects in his hand had been repeatedly wiped with alcohol several times.

Mr. Mo's gift to Ling Lang, he has never used it.

They had locked his heart for a full ten years, and now finally it was about to perform its original function.

******

"Senior, come and sit here," Feng Hao happily pointed at the vacant space around him. This time the filming location was on an island in the Pacific Ocean.

Ling Lang didn't refuse this time. She put away her luggage and sat down beside Feng Hao generously.

"I'd like to ask more advice during this time."

"each other."

Feng Hao posted in the past, "Did the senior watch the script? This play is just tailor-made for the senior."

Ling Lang's expression was calm, "I said, I won't be caught by you again."

Feng Hao's attitude was particularly sincere. "Then wish the senior succeed his instinct," he lowered his voice. "I am looking forward to living with the senior in prison."

boom--

Ling Lang was repeatedly pushed on the iron fence and made a loud noise. The prison guard not far away only didn't hear it. In this darkest prison in the world, any violent incident is acquiesced, and his life is calculated. It should be one less scourge on earth.

The two inmates pulled Ling Lang back, kicking and kicking again, until they felt that they were almost there, and then lifted Lang Lang from the ground and put him to kneel in front of Feng Hao.

I don't know if it's because of the appearance of two negative characters in a row, and the screen image of Feng Hao with a sunny face is somewhat stereotyped. This time, he took on the role of a prison bully.

The makeup artist specially made Feng Hao a middle-aged person's makeup, and some fine lines were added to the corners of his eyes. Ling Lang felt that it was not necessary. Feng Hao's performance always made people ignore his age.

When thinking of this, Ling Lang remembered the Facebook theory that he put forward that time, he had insisted on his own opinion, but when he first met Feng Hao, he also had a prejudice against his image.

"Newcomer, let you know the rules we have here, give the boss three heads, lick the boss's shoes clean, he will be his own, what happened, the boss covers you, otherwise ..." Lamenters laughed.

Ling Lang's head was crushed by the death of two people. He could only desperately look up at Feng Hao. Feng Hao sat there silently, with a cold expression, looking at his eyes as if looking at the mustard ants. Ling Lang moved, Pain came from him.

The prisoner pressed Ling Lang's head lower and lower, and almost came across Feng Hao's shoe upper. Ling Lang screamed, "Let me go, I have something to say!"

The prisoner looked at Feng Hao, Feng Hao's jaw lifted, and the two men loosened slightly.

Ling Lang looked up and stared at Feng Hao without fear. "You let me go, I have value."

The two inmates laughed, even the corners of Feng Hao's mouth pulled out an inconspicuous arc.

"Let's talk, what use value do you have?" Feng Hao asked unhurriedly.

Ling Lang's tone was extremely firm, "I can take you out."

"WELLDONE!" Director Yang is very satisfied with their performance.

Feng Hao helped Ling Lang up and whispered in his ear, "The senior is doing well today."

Ling Langzhuang didn't understand what he said, and went straight to the dressing room to pick up things. The conditions on the island were not as good as land and the rooms were limited. Even the big-name Linglang could only share the same lounge with Feng Hao.

When he came out in the morning, Ling Lang was worried that the cleaning staff would accidentally touch his things, and brought the keys out, and kept them in his dressing table. Now he has to rush to take the keys before others go back. When we returned to the lounge, the box where the keys had been stored was empty.

Ling Lang was shocked with cold sweat and turned the dresser upside down, but he couldn't find the key.

The key is gone! How could this be? Ling Lang's limbs were cold, and he felt unprecedented panic.

"Senior, what are you looking for? Isn't this?" Feng Hao appeared quietly behind him.

Ling Lang turned quickly, and saw Feng Hao pinching what he was looking for with two fingers, and he reached out to grab it. Unexpectedly, Feng Hao moved faster than him.

"Give me!" Ling Lang was calm for a long time.

"Ah," Feng Hao refused, "I said that, and then I caught the master's handle, I won't just leave it that way."

"That's just the key."

"Just the key, why should the senior be so excited?"

"That key is important to me," Ling Lang desperately controlled his emotions.

"Really? How important is it?" Feng Hao spread his palms. "What a chic key, I'm also curious. Does the senior wear 3000 or 6000?"

Ling Lang was pale for a moment.

Feng Hao took the key to his mouth and kissed it slightly. When he opened his eyes, he turned into another gesture. "Want to get it back? Come to my room tonight."