Chapter 8 chapter eight

Qiao Zai plays the role of the general's deputy very seriously, and fully enjoys the taste of selling his labor on the construction site and using his brains at the same time.Here's another converted farmhouse that's almost finished while his boss starts bidding on the next job.He's signed up for projects, and it always goes so well.He knew the local builders, and they trusted him.After all, he was one of the few contractors in Provence who never gave up halfway, never cheated on insurance money, and never took bribes.Qiao Zai thought to himself, he is too honest, this is his strength, but it is also his weakness.

As a loyal lieutenant, Qiao Zai is worried about the physical condition of the two members of the team.Brothers Claude and Borrell, and even Fernand, who was working in the garage, have been in good shape because of their work.But Bashir spends his days behind the bar smoking cigarettes and serving cups of coffee.As for Shang, it was simply a catastrophe.Just pick up something heavier than your wallet and break a sweat.Qiao Tsai watched the two of them practice.Not only were they the last to arrive at their destination, but it was also evident that they were unable to do what they wanted.Cycling once a week is not enough.They'll have to practice harder if they want to catch up with the others.Qiao Zai is determined to talk to Claude about this issue.

One night, after get off work, they came together at a bar in Bonnieux, which Joe liked because of its refusal to abide by the no-smoking rules, and of course the rump steak and fries they served for fifty francs.They sat down at a corner table and drank the anisette without a word.Qiao Zai sighed comfortably, nodded and ordered two more glasses. It's like mother's milk, isn't it? Claude is stirring the ice in the empty glass, you know?I'd rather drink this than champagne. When you're done, I'll send you a big box.You can keep it in the back of your Mercedes in case you get thirsty on the way to the hairdresser.

The big man brushed his hair back and brushed off the dust that had settled on it from the afternoon he had cut the stone.His hands were the same as Qiao Zai's, rough and full of scars. After years of hard work, his fingers became stiff and calloused, and his nails were forked and broken.He said: It's time for a manicure. The proprietress brought the second round of ouzo.Want to eat, lad? Qiao Zai nodded, and the proprietress began to recite the menu, double french fries, steak cooked just right, don't forget the mustard, and a liter of red wine, right? Qiao Zai said: You are simply my princess.

Tell this to my husband!The woman went back to the bar and yelled at the kitchen for the dishes. Joe Tsai lit a cigarette and leaned towards Claude, listen, we have to use our brains. Claude was drinking ouzo with a solemn expression, and Qiao Zai knew that his uneasy expression meant that he was using his brain. It's Bashir and Jean.I saw how they looked after the training camp, and they were exhausted and paralyzed.Joey removed the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled at the flies that were eyeing his glass.Everyone else was fine, we worked hard and were strong, but the other two, just stood around all day.They have no exercise at all and no stamina.

Claude nodded.Bashir was almost out of breath last Sunday, remember?The whole person is paralyzed on the front wheel.Shang looked like a piece of veal, extremely pale. That's it, Joey leaned back, satisfied that Claude also recognized the nature of the problem.We have to find a way to make them stronger, or we have to keep them out of the program. The two fell silent, staring at their drinks, trying to find inspiration.Crowder said: "I don't know, maybe they can do the next project with us.For digging and carrying cement bags, Fang Qi will always need a few rookies.He shrugged, it was just a suggestion.

Looking at Claude's nervous expression, Qiao Zai couldn't help but smile all over his face.He said: The idea is not stupid at all, really!He patted Claude on the shoulder and said: My friend, sometimes I really want to kiss you. You two guys, do you want to continue chatting, or are you ready to eat?The hostess put the plates on their table, the steak still steaming, a stack of French fries piled high, a bottle of red wine without a label, a small basket of bread, a jug of Amora AMORA, Spanish red wine.).There will be cheese or creme caramel dessert later, do you need water?What a stupid question.She brushed the hair from her forehead and cleared the empty anisette glass on the table.I wish you a pleasant meal!

On the following Sunday, Qiao Zai pulled the general aside as if his deputy was reporting to the chief, and had something to say to him.The general stroked his beard and looked at Qiao Tsai approvingly.He likes people with brains.Do you think Fang Qi will hire them? If the next project is big enough, why not?He's always in need of cheap labor, I can tell him. The general nodded, okay, let me deliver the bad news, we'd better give Shang a hard time, right, Qiao Zai?He winks and pats his head, good job!The diminutive man just staggered to fetch his bicycle. Practice ended that morning, and the General assembled everyone.Shan and Bashir were reviled for their reluctance to give up their easy jobs.The general called it democracy and pretended not to listen to Bashir's suggestions for improvement.

The general said: There is one more thing, which is very important.He raised a finger authoritatively.Don't talk to each other about how the money will be used in the future, even if no one else is around. Qiao Tsai shook his head as if something was going on, and you always talk about it casually. The general said: I will tell you why, it will be the beginning of habit, you may make a little joke about it, you don't even realize that you are talking about it, one day, the rascal with sharper ears overheard, Then the general put his finger across his throat, and it would be a bad thing, so please keep your mouth shut.

Global Communications Resources occupies Sixth Avenue in midtown Manhattan.A steel-framed glass-curtained granite landmark marks the top five floors of the building.According to advertising rumours, the company's employees are among the highest paid in the industry, and some of the most paranoid men and women in the industry.They say five years in the world is enough to drive a normal person insane, but at least you can make enough money to buy your own shelter.This is President Bob.Jigler (annual salary of $5.5 million, plus bonuses) is quite proud of the compliment.The biggest carrot and the biggest stick are tricks he likes to impose on his employees.Either make enough money, or get out.

Simon took the high-speed elevator up to the forty-second floor and was escorted past executive secretaries into a corner office twice the size of anyone's.Ji Gele leaned on the leather chair, with his ear attached to the phone, and there was an elderly shoe-shine boy at his feet.Behind him, on a polished teak wall, hangs a large black-and-white photo of him shaking hands with former President Bush.Jiglerdo's photos are similar. He often takes photos with prominent politicians of both parties, and will make appropriate changes according to the guests who visit that day.The Parker of Parker Gourmet, obviously Republican. The shoe shine boy patted the shoe cloth for the last time, and patted the side of Jigle's shiny black leather shoes, implying that the job was done.He stood up stiffly, nodded his thanks to the five-dollar bill that Jigle waved at him, and looked at Simon questioningly, Simon shook his head.The old man shuffled out of the office and continued to repair shoes for other director-level executives in the company. Simon thought that the conversations he heard every day cost millions of dollars. Satisfied that he had kept Simon waiting long enough, Jigler hung up the phone, stood up, and straightened his gray silk suit, which he had recently paired with red suspenders.If he was four inches taller and twenty pounds lighter, he would look decent in a suit and tie.Simon noticed that he had given up his sideburns and that his thinning hair was tame.Cold gray eyes stared at Simon as his face wore a smile. You're finally here. How was the flight? Not bad, very fast. Must be fast.The god damn sardines are quick too.Well, enough of the politeness, let's get down to business.Pike is coming in a few hours and I have to get you into shape.Jigler started pacing up and down his desk, and he should be almost in my pocket, as long as he likes Europe.According to my information, we should be able to get this $300 million business, if we can make him fall in love with Heinz (Note: Heinz Scholz, Austrian pianist.), and possibly more.That's the kind of partnership we're striving for. What kind of man is that Parker? I never met him.We talked on the phone, but I did fight his marketing people.According to them, he was reluctant to spend too much time with advertising agencies.So I'll cut to the chase right away.Ji Gele paused his words, took a stack of thick documents, and threw it on the table.You've read the briefing material, haven't you?So you should know that he made his fortune in Texas 40 years ago, and now he has been listed among the Fortune 500 richest people, and his ranking is rising every year.He is very smart.On the phone, he's like an old guy from the middle of nowhere, maybe wearing a striped tie and a stupid hat, but he's up against big acquisitions and never misses.Now is the time to play psychological warfare. Simon lit a cigar and saw Jigler showing disgust.Kiegler wakes up at six every day to work out in his weight training room, which is his knack for staying bloated.He likes to let you touch his biceps, and he is convinced that smoking secondhand smoke within six feet of you can cause lung cancer. God!I didn't know you could still smoke that stuff.Do you know what effect it has?Don't die this afternoon, that's all I ask. Bob, I'm very touched, so what about the psychological warfare you speak of? Yes, this is important.I've heard that Pike likes to think of himself as a simple character, nothing special.Plus he's not only an American, but a Texan.Do you get me? you mean? Ji Gele sighed.let me tell you.From what I knew of them, he thought that people in advertising were fancy bums in ballet suits, and that Europe was just little villages full of fishing nets. Simon thought of Jigler wearing leggings, smoking a cigarette and coughing. Ji Gele shook his head.What you damage is your lungs, of course, you get inspiration from smoking.No intelligent European would make an enemy of a different cultural value.The front we're going to take is the McDonald's front. American Identity, American Values, American Efficiency, American Jigler Searching for words to match these virtues. money? You're right, money, you know what it does to business?What about the impact on stock prices and personal assets?You can buy goddamn Havanas and smoke them till you die. do you know?Bob, sometimes there is a kind and generous side to your personality. Jigler looked at Simon with his slender and unfriendly eyes.Simon, stop joking.I've been working on it for months and I don't want this to get screwed over by any of your one-liners.Save your jokes for afternoon tea with the Queen! While Ji Gele was talking loudly, he walked around with his head held high.His burly, combative figure is framed by floor-to-ceiling windows and views down Sixth Avenue into lower Manhattan.Simon looked at his watch.Seven o'clock sharp UK time.He wants a drink.If he was in London, he might have been prepared to have dinner with Nicole somewhere quiet, preferably at his flat, so he could strip her naked later.He shook off these fantasies of his own and tried to focus on the end of Jigler's performance. So just remember this, OK?We only need to give him a large set of advertising campaigns all over the world, and we don't need to focus on specific markets.The world is hungry and we must feed it.Ji Gele stopped pacing and stretched out his finger towards Simon unexpectedly.Hey, that's not a bad stance, you understand?Who needs goddamn copywriting? Simon didn't like microwaved food on the plane, so he didn't eat all day.Bob, your words have had an effect on me, I'm starving. Ji Gele raised his head in disbelief.He never knew when Simon was serious and when he was showing off his British humor.For the harmony of the company, he gave him the privilege of questioning.Well, we can call things in and eat them.Pike might be there sooner. However, Pike was very punctual, and was surrounded by three smiling big-man executives with loud voices who shook hands whenever they saw anyone.After listening to Jigler's description of Parker, Simon expected to see outwardly bent legs and a cowboy hat, so when he saw this short and dapper man in a Solie ROO suit, Feel a little stunned.His bow tie was loosely tied, and he had a sun-tanned, wrinkled face with heavy eyelids.Simon had always thought he looked like an iguana. Mr. Xiao, I'm Hampton.Parker, nice to meet you.His husky, pipe-pipe voice was softened by the slowness of his tone, and they told me you'd come all the way from London for this little meeting. That's right, I flew over this morning. They sat down, and Simon noticed that the Texan was actually wearing a suit and boots. Pike said: Tell me, Mr. Shaw, have you had an opportunity to see an opera in London?That's something I miss. Simon saw Ji Gele's smile froze.Not very often, but whenever Pavarotti comes to London, I will not miss it. Pike nodded.That's a really good voice.He produced a pack of unfiltered Chesterfieids and leaned back.Well, let’s get down to business! This small meeting that Pike talked about lasted for two days, and the degree of delay made Simon and Jigler feel exhausted at the end.On the third morning, they drank coffee together, speculating about their chances, Tigler's arrogance worn out by fatigue, and Simon, after the adrenaline wore off, eager to return to London as soon as possible.The faxes from the office were nothing more than ordinary questions about asking for help. A secretary poked her head by the door.Mr. Jigler, here is your package.A courier pushed a cart, his head was barely visible due to the oversized cardboard box, and he had to be careful to get the box through the door. Ji Gele yelled at the secretary, get that thing out, this is not a goddamn warehouse, oh my god! Mr. Jigler, I'm sorry, but that is your personal property. Shit!Ji Gele took the letter opener and hurriedly cut open the cardboard box covered with heavy tape.The cartons were full of bottles and cans with the red Parker Foods logo.There is an envelope in the middle. Ji Gele opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper. son of a bitch!He slammed the paper on the table in Simon's face, pounded his arm, and grinned, son of a bitch! Simon looked at the letter, it began: General Manager's Office, and it said: Congratulations!Hampton.Parker. At this moment, Simon raised his head and saw Jigler talking to the public relations department downstairs, asking them to arrange a press conference. His fatigue completely disappeared, replaced by boundless pride and excitement.This time Simon felt the same excitement, not a feeling of contentment mixed with anticlimax.After all, it's just another pair of hands to hold, even if those hands are full of money. Ji Gele hung up the phone and looked at Simon from his shiny and huge table. The goddamn 300 million business is still a conservative estimate. That should fix the crisis, Simon held out his hand, congratulations, Bob! By the time the news gets out, there will be some bodies thrown out of M&B's windows.Ji Gele is very proud. After losing such a big customer, the opponent is bound to lay off staff substantially and immediately.They'll be vulnerable, and it's best to ask their client list to see what else they can grab.He jotted down the footnote in his notebook. Simon stood up.I can't spend all day here with you.I'll see if I can catch the one forty-five. Ji Gele was extremely happy, and of course Simon knew that he would have such a reaction.His press conferences are basically for himself.Of course, I'll call you in a few days.Before Simon reached the door, Ji Gele started calling again: Any news?You got it right, I have good news for you, listen carefully Simon was the last passenger to board the British Airways flight.As he made his way down the aisle, passengers on the plane looked up to see who the hell was, only to find it was just another tired man in a dark suit, neither a celebrity nor an ex-president, and went back to Flipping over his suitcase.The Concorde took off, carrying a bunch of business gypsies and cargo, and flew across the Atlantic Ocean. Simon absently flipped through the fax in his hand, then gave up and turned his attention to a glass of champagne.He looked out the window at the sky, and it was a successful flight, after years of hard work, to finally win such a big client.It would sweeten London, raise stock prices and make him rich.He yawned and took a second glass of champagne from the stewardess.He thought of Lulanmen's empty, impersonal apartment.He thought of working with Ji Gele in the next few years, until one side got rid of the other.He thought again of the problems awaiting him in London, and then of the advertising business. Over the years, he has always been happy to defend his career whenever his peers (banking, legal, publishing, or press acquaintances) make disparaging comments, wondering why he would be interested in helping toilet paper Or advertise beer.Their undisguised distaste had once amazed themselves.They usually call him an ad factory with disapproval.Of course, the look of disdain disappears naturally when they need tickets to a ball game at the Central Stadium. Well, never mind them.They were annoying, but they didn't matter, and Simon didn't care what they thought anymore.He also became less and less concerned about his career, so he could no longer bear the quarrels in the office, the dullness of meetings, or even the repeated loss of clients.Customers, from the CEO down to the brand manager, all require constant pampering, reassurance, endless discussions and frequent meals, and this whole tiresome ritual is often described as customer service.It never seemed to end. Simon dozed off.When he woke up, the sky became cloudy and the plane was going down to land. The captain's professional and cheerful voice informed the passengers that it was raining in London. When Simon passed through customs, it was nearly eleven o'clock, and the pick-up hall was crowded with cleaning staff, who moved at a slow pace working overtime.When the passengers were moving out, a tall man in a black hat and long black raincoat walked quickly towards Simon. Welcome to Heathrow my dear, isn't it charming at such a night time? Simon smiled and said, "Well, you're wearing a hat, I almost didn't recognize you, how are you?" The rolling of the waves is like dolphins playing.You'll be able to see it when we're outside.The rainy season has arrived. While driving the Mercedes in the pouring rain, Ennis briefed Simon on what had happened in the company in the past few days.Jordan and creative director David.Frye hadn't spoken to each other.The condom king has yet to make a decision.A rumored breakup appeared in the professional papers.Lisa starts dating a young man who wears earrings and rides a racing car.In addition, there are many apartments waiting for Simon to take the time to look at them, and there are pots of sausages waiting for Simon in the kitchen, which can be heated and eaten. What is the situation in New York?Is our Mr. Jigler as humble and charming as ever? Simon replied: We got the business and he was quite happy with himself.You'll be glad to hear that he's started wearing the red suspenders. Ennis snorted contemptuously.He and Ji Gele disliked each other at first glance.I hope, he also wears a red belt.It fries the imagination to think of what virtue it would be for him to take his trousers down. The car turned into Lulan Gate and stopped outside the apartment. Ennis said: Home sweet home!Don't worry, the place I found in Wilton has a good chance of being rented. They bid each other good night, and Simon went in on his own.He left his bag at the entrance and went straight into the living room, wrinkling his nose at the dull smell of the central air conditioner and the damp carpet.It's a hotel room smell.He rummaged through a pile of CDs until he found Erlo.Errol Game's seaside concert, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, lit a cigar, and stopped reading the newspaper Lisa had left on the table for him.He sometimes felt that one day he would be buried under piles of memos, liaison reports, strategy papers, financial forecasts, employee appraisal forms, and piles of chewing gum.He sighed and opened the folder. A clip from the marketing magazine Campaign, in the Top Stories section, featured the most implausible rumor of the week, suggesting that a group of senior executives planned to leave the agency, taking key clients with them.No names are mentioned in it, nor is there any content.The stereotypical management refusal to comment at the end lends credence to the rumor.Simon thought, God knows how much time the reporter went to contact management. Flipping through the newspaper, he was scribbling notes to remind himself of which calls to remember to make in the morning, when he saw the envelope postmarked with the spider's footprint.He recognized the scrawled handwriting and cringed.Uncle William was apparently broke again. dear lad: Sorry to bother you, but I find myself in dire straits and embarrassment without making any mistakes. Simon shook his head and sighed.Uncle William was an artist and a master flirt who slipped into Simon's life inadvertently, often costing Simon dearly.His energy seemed to be that of a lad half his age, but either money was tight or checks bounced, he was simply a byword for embarrassment.It was with great difficulty that Simon coaxed and coaxed him out of London.Even Ennis had never seen him, and Caroline didn't even know there was such a person.Simon's guilt usually faded away when he thought about the social cost of Uncle William's departure from Norfolk.Simon looked for the checkbook in the small suitcase. There was another envelope, this time in much neater form, with unfamiliar handwriting. Dear Simon: Thanks for the dinner treat, I hope New York isn't as scary as you think. I'm leaving London tomorrow for Provence, and maybe after three days of sunshine I'll be drenched in the rain.Do you like this weather? I have an idea to tell you, but my English is not good, it would be nice if we could talk. kiss you nicole Simon checked his watch.One o'clock London time, two o'clock France time, first thing in the morning on the phone.It will be a pleasant conversation, at least before getting down to business.He stood up and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Kiss you, he likes this, beautiful kisses.He looked at the rest of the paperwork, a letter from Caroline's attorney, a report on business prospects, and a request for him to attend a client brainstorming session to increase the market for frozen chicken nuggets.Now, finally, there is a challenge enough to stir the imagination.He yawned and went to bed.