Reborn you idiot

After getting out of the car, Zhang Weidong first took a deep breath, feeling relaxed.

The neon lights rolled and the night was blurred. This kind of feasting and feasting atmosphere was all too familiar to him.

Du Hu was waiting for him at the street corner, and when we first met, he immediately said, "Wow, your smoky makeup is too exaggerated! Hollywood special effects?"

Zhang Weidong spat at him angrily: "Fuck you, I'm going to make you vomit tonight until you don't even recognize your mother."

Dahu hooked his shoulders and yelled: "Who is afraid of whom, the puppy is the one who vomits first!"

Zhang Weidong froze and subconsciously pushed him away.

Dahu was pushed staggered by him, stunned for a moment, and immediately smiled apologetically: "I'm sorry, I forgot. You have a bad disease, and it hasn't been cured for so many years? Hey, how are you going to ask for a wife in the future? You plan to masturbate yourself lifetime?"

Zhang Weidong said nonchalantly: "That's fine, women are too troublesome."

This bar has a good business. It opens at eight o'clock in the evening. At ten o'clock, the whole place is almost full, and every table has customers.The interior decoration and atmosphere are also quite good, the lights are light blue, psychedelic but not dazzling, and English songs with strong rhythm are playing.

Zhang Weidong looked around the audience, and found that except for the waiters and the women with heavy makeup, none of the others were of yellow race.

He sat on the high stool in front of the bar and bumped Dumb with his elbow: "Why are they all foreigners?"

Dahu replied: "This place specializes in foreign business, and most of the customers are sailors who run ships."

Zhang Weidong nodded, picked up the beer and clinked glasses with him: "Are you like a girl? Take a small sip, are you afraid?"

"I'm afraid of your fart!" Duo put down his glass after drinking it in one gulp, pointing to the simple square stage: "I have to come on stage to accompany me later, and when the performance is over, I will let you know what it means to never pour a thousand cups."

"Blow it, you can't pour a thousand cups? Then why don't you dare to drink now?"

"You think I'm afraid of drinking? I'm afraid that I'll get too excited later and accidentally tear down the stage."

Zhang Weidong gave him a push, and laughed so hard that he hadn't tried to laugh like this for a long time.

At the same time, Xiao Jungu couldn't be happy at all, and his whole body was shrouded in low air pressure.

He was working overtime at first, and he had several contracts to read and sign within the deadline. When he learned that Zhang Weidong was missing, he stopped all his work and sat in the office, smoking one after another.

Zhang Weidong's cell phone had no signal, so he couldn't locate it, it must have been done on purpose.

This kind of thing has never happened before, making Xiao Jun so extremely displeased and at the same time extremely disturbed. He thinks he is not a person with a strong desire to control, but once Zhang Weidong is involved, he will become an exception—he always I couldn't help but wonder where Zhang Weidong was, what he was doing, whether he might be ill, whether he had any medicine on him, whether there was anyone around to take care of him...

Xiao Jungu became more and more upset as he thought about it, so he called the secretary in through the intercom, and ordered: "Tomorrow, contact the bodyguard company that has been cooperating with us. I want to invite a few people and ask them to send the information."

The female secretary asked: "General manager, do you want to interview in person after you select a good candidate? I will help you change the schedule."

"Yes, it will be done once tomorrow, and you can arrange it."

Then Xiao Jungu picked up the car keys, passed the secretary, and left the office.

He was driving around aimlessly. Guangzhou has 200 million permanent residents. The chance of meeting someone in this bustling city is very small. Even though he knew it, he couldn't sit still.

Did I indulge Zhang Weidong too much?

Xiao Jungu went through everything in his heart while driving, and quickly came to the answer - yes.

Zhang Weidong dared to disappear the first time, there will be a second time, and a third time...

If it continues like this, people will be invisible at every turn in the future, which is too bad!We can't let him go any longer.

Xiao Jun got out of the car, leaned against the car door and took out a cigarette, looking at the Haizhu Bridge across the river in the distance, meditating quietly.

At 10:30 p.m., it's show time at the bar.

Dahu took the white bass from the bartender, hung it on his chest and said, "Dongzi, do you want to lend you the stage later? I can arrange it."

Zhang Weidong shook his head: "No, I'm a signed artist, so I can't perform outside without authorization."

"It's better to be a free man." After Du Hu said this, he rushed to the stage: "Wait, I'll drink to you when I come back!"

The music stopped, the lights changed, Zhang Weidong stretched his neck to look in the direction of the stage, and smiled enviously.

Since when did freedom and music become a luxury and an unattainable goal for him?

But luckily—he sat here tonight, feeling close to the music.

Zhang Weidong planned to let go of all the pressure and unhappiness, and spend a good night with music and friends, but unfortunately things backfired.

After the singer took the stage, within a minute of singing, two tables of guests were booing and chirping.The performance was interrupted, the singer and a group of musicians were embarrassed on stage, but the guests off the stage were still relentless and waved them off the stage.

There were so many people talking, Zhang Weidong couldn't hear what these foreigners were saying for a while, so he asked the bartender: "What's going on?"

"Oh, the original singer took a long vacation, and the guests are not happy, so they have to change back to the previous singer." The bartender curled his lips and muttered in a low voice, "I really think of myself as a gentleman after spending a few bad money."

Zhang Weidong thinks there is nothing wrong with it. This kind of place is the best test of a singer's strength, because all the audience are guests, not fans, and they will not save face for the people on stage; The circle finds fault with the singer.It's a close-up, face-to-face approach, and if the singers don't please them, they're booed, which is normal.

He picked up a San Miguel beer, and excitedly leaned over to watch, wanting to see how it would end.

At this time, the bar manager came to smooth things over and explained the reason in detail. The resident Russian singer asked for leave to return home to visit relatives because his family was seriously ill. Please forgive me.

A fat white man stood up, pointed to the singer and said in English, "Then ask him to sing another song."

The manager asked nicely, "Is there any problem with singing like that just now?"

The fat man looked dissatisfied: "It doesn't matter what he sings, we don't want to listen to Chinese people singing jazz and rock, neither fish nor fowl."

As soon as he finished speaking, the people at the same table applauded one after another, and the atmosphere was noisy.

Zhang Weidong frowned, he had a problem with Fatty's remarks, he just listened carefully, although the singer's singing was not very good, but in a bar occasion, it is not shameful to have such a level.

The manager turned around and asked the singer to sing some Chinese pop songs instead.

Seeing the young male singer with a stubborn expression and an unconvinced look, the manager pulled him to the edge of the stage and said a few more words before he nodded reluctantly, but his face was very ugly.After the manager went down, he went to the back of the stage to discuss with the musicians about changing tracks.

A drunken blond young man at another table yelled at the stage: "Are there any performances? You Chinese are so troublesome. You procrastinate if you can't do anything well. If you don't sing, you will get your money back!"

Zhang Weidong couldn't stand it anymore, threw the beer bottle to the ground, stepped onto the stage in two or three steps, grabbed the microphone and scolded: "What's wrong with the Chinese? Why shouldn't they sing jazz and rock? Music doesn't distinguish between national boundaries. You are discriminatory!"

With an excited expression and an angry tone, he looked around at everyone below the stage with a menacing look.

Suddenly, the audience was silent, and no one expected that a person would suddenly jump up.

The fat man just now reacted and immediately retorted loudly: "Am I not right? Then tell me, among the influential singers in the international music scene, which one is Chinese? Elvis Presley? Thomyorke? U2 band? Oh, little brother , I’m so sorry, they are not black-eyed and yellow-skinned.”

Some people in the audience applauded, and some people cheered: "China's cultural level is not up to the international level. I can't make my own music well, and I learn to play rock and roll from abroad. It's not that we don't give face, but you are really bad!"

Zhang Weidong was so angry that he grinded his teeth, the audience shouted constantly, and the scene fell into chaos.

Dumb stepped forward and tugged at his arm: "Forget it, we are outnumbered, and we can't do business if the trouble continues."

Zhang Weidong shook off his hand, thinking that he couldn't just let it go, he is Chinese, he couldn't swallow this breath!

At this time, he was still scruples about his identity, and he didn't intend to make a big fuss. He opened his mouth to reason with the people in the audience: "How much do you know about China? How many Chinese people have you met? Don't fucking come to China, just learn a few words of Mandarin. Pretending to be here, do you know what music is?"

"Gentlemen and ladies, listen to me." The blond young man stepped on a chair and stood up on the table, precariously in line with the stage: "The Chinese can't sing, they can only sing, they just paint their faces like clowns Same, and then..."

He pinched his nose and learned the singing of Cantonese opera a few times, like a rooster whose neck was cut, which caused the audience to burst into laughter.

Zhang Weidong clenched his fists, and a fire rushed to his forehead, burning his head until green smoke came out.

These people are just too much!Opera is the quintessence of China, the treasure of Chinese art, and an ancient tradition passed down for thousands of years. Even if he is a layman, he still has a high respect for this art!

As a person, whether it is the culture of one's own country or the traditions of other countries, one should have the minimum respect.

But these guys trampled on other people's traditions, trampled and ridiculed recklessly, it's so damn hateful!

"Damn it, foreign devils!" Du Hu couldn't stand it anymore, and rushed directly to the stage.

Zhang Weidong pressed his shoulder and shouted into the microphone: "Shut up!"

He used the loudest volume, and it shocked everyone in the audience.

Zhang Weidong didn't close his eyes last night, and he was busy all day, drank a lot of wine, and suffered a lot.At this moment, his head started to hurt, and his eyes were a little blurry. He felt that he was about to lose control—all the exhaustion, depression, and resentment gathered into a raging torrent, which was about to break through the gate of reason!

The bald manager came to the stage again, and persuaded bitterly: "Sir, please hurry down. We are a place where the door is open for business, and everyone is here to have fun, so why bother, is it... "

"Go away!" Zhang Weidong pushed him far away, and said sharply, "Go away, I will pay for the lack of business tonight!"

The manager was pushed by him and almost fell off the stage. Seeing that the other party looked like he wanted to eat people, he didn't dare to go up to him to scold him.