You are the pearl, Mo Mengchen

Chapter 67 The earth can no longer accommodate you

"Scored 14 points."

"Double on the board."

"A personal technical rating of B+ or higher."

"Team technical rating of A or higher."

"Achieving Achievement: First career triple-double."

"Achieving Achievement: For the first time in his career, his personal technical rating has reached A+ in a single game."

"Return: 1000+1500+1500."

The rewards for tonight's game were huge, because Mo Mengchen was the best player in the game, and his skill rating reached A+ for the first time, which also increased his post-match rewards from the usual 800 to 1000.

One game plus two small achievements allowed Mo Mengchen to earn 4000 attribute points, which made him unable to stop smiling, and his heart was as sweet as honey.

Geez, if only I could do this every day.

4000 attribute points, what concept?Five games, or seven or eight surgeries.

There are tens of thousands of accomplishments on the achievement wall, and he has only completed a few of them now.

Looking at the current score on his body, there are a total of 15000 attribute points.

He hoped to save the points to 30000 attribute points and use them all at once. Seriously, 15000 attribute points can't do much, just add a few attributes sporadically, which won't have much impact.

This evening, at the press conference, the Indiana reporters weren't very friendly.

"Mo, Reggie thinks your game is inappropriate."

"I still need to learn from him."

"He thinks you like doing extra moves that aren't necessary when you're playing."

"Yes, I need to learn more from him, Reggie is an "experienced" old-timer."

No matter what the reporter asks, Mo Mengchen hits back like Tai Chi, never looking for trouble on him, and the reporter asks in vain, because his blow to Miller is in the complete blind spot of the camera and the absolute blind spot of the referee. Fans near that area, no one knew what he did to Miller.

Even if fans come forward to testify, what can they do?Seeing is believing?

If you want to blame, blame the mobile phones of this era for not having a camera function.

After the post-match interviews, press conferences, small locker room meetings, players' wrangling, etc., it was already past one o'clock in the morning.

The team decided to return to the hotel to rest for the night before leaving tomorrow morning.

When he got on the bus, Mo Mengchen's stomach was already growling with hunger.

He called Amir Madeira.

"I hope you have prepared what I want." The last thing Mo Mengchen wanted to hear now was "sorry" or "not yet".

"Please rest assured, I have prepared everything you want, and nothing will be missing." Madeira said confidently.

So Mo Mengchen hung up the phone.

Behind him, Lore, Ratliff, and Don Reed all heard the call, and they looked at each other and made eye contact.

Luoer stared: It's so late, what else is Mo going to do?
Rhett gave him a blank stare: what else could a grown man do in the middle of the night calling for service?
Ratliff shook his head: No, no, it could be this kind of person.

Rhett swept across his face lightly: Don't underestimate the lower limit of a man, Theo.

Lore and Ratliff stared at him angrily: Aren't you a man?

"Is there something wrong with you?" Houston yawned, and when he turned his head, he saw these three ugly bastards winking at each other, "The eyes are staring like a cow's egg, what are you doing?"

"nothing."

The bus arrived at the hotel smoothly.

Mo Mengchen yawned, tired and hungry, tonight is really the most tiring day in this day.

Tonight's game made him try his best, he also played good numbers and won the game, but after the tense atmosphere went away, fatigue spread all over his body.

As an assistant to an NBA player, Madeira thought it would be easier, but she was wrong, a big mistake.

She has done a lot of jobs. When she was in college, in order to pay tuition and maintain her life, she had to work several jobs in her spare time. The schoolwork in the community college was relatively easy, and she had enough time to work, which allowed her to accumulate rich work experience.

She has done many jobs, but none of them is more tiring or exhausting than being Mo Mengchen's assistant.

It can't be more than a little bit, not at all.

Madeira walked around Mo Mengchen's hotel room, wondering if she had missed anything, but she couldn't think of it, it seemed that everything was done, but something was missing.

In addition to these daily things, Mo Mengchen would also order her to do some other things, and she also learned a few secrets from this.

The mysterious singer Ethan who has become popular on the Internet recently is Mo Mengchen.

Mo Mengchen also registered a sneaker company in Ethan's name, and the company's operating president is his agent.

He also has several investments to his name, all of which have achieved good results.

Madeira felt that she knew too much. If she continued like this, would she be silenced because of "knowing too much"?
"What else is missing?"

Madeira walked back and forth with trembling legs and feet, if she made a mistake, Mo Mengchen's foul mouth would not let her go.

"Are you dancing cha-cha in my room?"

Madeira was startled, and turned her head abruptly.

Mo Mengchen stood at the door, staring at her questioningly.

I have to say, from a distance, his boss is still quite handsome, different from the small eyes of ordinary yellow people, his cheeks are cut like a European male model, as delicate as a sculpture, and his facial features are well-proportioned. If the personality is a little better, this person is simply charming.

Talented and handsome.
"Uh, I was just waiting for you," Madeira said.

Mo Mengchen pushed the luggage forward, and Medela quickly supported it.

"Are you all ready?"

Mo Mengchen closed the door, looking tired.

"All right."

He didn't say much, he went into the bathroom and lifted out the bucket of hot water that Madeira had prepared in advance, sat on the sofa, and then put his feet in it.

The bucket was full of water, completely covering Mo Mengchen's calf.

Massage while soaking in hot water.

This is very important, why do many players get injured so often?Because their bodies are not fully rested, and some parts of the body are very artificial, they must be patiently cared for.

He didn't dare to neglect his fragile lower limbs like Mo Mengchen, and he devoted himself to post-exercise care and massage every night.

"Can you cook?"

The taste of soaking in the hot water bucket was so intoxicating that Mo Mengchen couldn't bear it.

"Of course I will." Mei Dai said nervously.

"Bring the pot to a boil for me, and wash the shrimp in the ice pack three or four times. Wait a minute, are you done washing your hands?"

Madeira had to wash her hands five times in front of Mo Mengchen. In fact, she thought that three times would be enough to clean her hands, but she washed them five times, but his boss still felt that her hands were not clean.

"Forget it, let's start." Mo Mengchen had to accept the consequences of being lazy, even if Medela's possibly dirty hands might pollute his supper.

"Pour some brandy when you're done washing."

"Sprinkle with a third of a teaspoon of salt."

Just as Madeira was about to do it, when he opened the bag, his mind went blank—hey, he finally understood why he was so flustered just now!I didn't bring salt for a long time! ——"Boss, me." Madeira knew that a scolding meal was inevitable.

Mo Mengchen opened his eyes: "What's wrong?"

"You are a professional player, is it bad to eat too much salt?" Madeira began to make various excuses, "You just played such a fierce game tonight, if you eat food with too much salt What can I do if it affects recovery? I suggest you add some other seasonings, in fact, we can have a healthier way of eating, what do you think?"

Mo Mengchen looked at her as if studying aliens, "You didn't bring any salt, did you?"

Madeira had an awkward but sweet smile that did not break the etiquette.

"Okay, you managed to offend one of the biggest parties on Earth, be careful, maybe you'll be assassinated tonight."

Mo Mengchen is neither salty nor sweet. His taste is relatively neutral, but because of his prejudice against Americans, he doesn't dare to ask Medela to put sugar.

He feels that Americans have problems with their taste buds. The sweetness that many Chinese people are accustomed to is as light as plain water to Americans. The sweetness they can accept is completely unacceptable to Chinese people, which is why Americans Most fat people will exaggerate once they gain weight, because the food they eat is too high in calories.

"Boss, what should I do?" Medela looked at the prawns who were dying, and felt that she was very sorry for them.

"There's no salt, so there's always sugar, right? Put a quarter of a teaspoon."

Mo Mengchen said weakly.

Madela continued to unpack the bag, and suddenly a large lump of cold sweat appeared on her forehead.

Not even his meow candy!Am I crazy?I'm dying!I will definitely be scolded to death by him tonight!
"Boss, it's actually sugar."

Mo Mengchen was startled: "You want to tell me that as an American, you didn't even bring candy?"

"Why do you say you're an American"

"Are you talking nonsense again?! Which of you Yankees is not a goddamn sweet party?"

"Sweet and partisan?"

Mo Mengchen stood up and said: "Now you have offended the two most powerful parties on the earth, Blue Star can no longer accommodate you, so how about it, you pack up, I heard that New York will launch a Mars probe in a few days, you Go up with it, it should be safer there."

"Boss, I'm sorry," Madeira said shyly.

After Mo Mengchen wiped his feet, he said leisurely, "If I were you, I would make a joke while I was still in the mood and run to the supermarket downstairs to buy some salt and sugar at the speed of a [-]-meter sprint."

"Yes, I'll go right away!"

Madela slipped away immediately, sprinting at a speed of [-] meters.

PS: In the Xiayan Party, please give me a ticket, please give me a reward! ! !
(End of this chapter)