Chapter 442
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The broken cup is still spinning on the ground, and the clear vibrato still retains its aftertaste. The air in the room seems to have a brief stagnation in that moment.
The people sitting next to Mr. Simon didn't say anything. It was Simon's family business and they had no right to interfere.
The boy took off from the vertigo. At the moment when he was dark and the sky was spinning, he kept standing steadily. He ignored the heat flow slowly flowing down his head and still kept his humble, careful and expectant smile.
"Father, I've come to bring you some tea and cakes for more than two hours."
Mr. Simon glanced at the almost empty kettle on the tea table in front of him, and then said indifferently, "put things on the shelf next to you, and then go out. No one can come in without my permission, including you!"
The boy carefully put the tray sprinkled with some tea on one side of the shelf. There is a base for putting some small parts. There is a small decoration like a very shallow soup basin on it, which is concave in the middle.
When such small pieces of things are put in, there is no need to worry that they will "run" everywhere.
It is not a place for pallets, but it now carries a pallet that does not belong to it and should not be carried by it.
"I left first, father, and gentlemen..." the boy bowed down and left. When he closed the door, there was not even a sound.
At the moment when the door was about to close, the boy raised his head. In the narrow world of the door, his eyes and Mr. Simon's eyes met.
A look full of disgust. Simon never liked the child. If he didn't want to have a good relationship with the locals as soon as possible, if he didn't want to dilute his label of "foreigner", he wouldn't marry an indigenous woman and have a child here.
A bastard, bitch, or whatever, in his eyes, the child is just a prop, a prop used to maintain his image in the eyes of the local people.
But with the addition of foreign forces, the businessmen of the Federation, and the escape of Preston, these things became worthless, and he became more tired of this unpleasant child.
Compared with Mr. Simon's strongly hated eyes, the young man's eyes are much simpler, with expectations, humbleness, sadness... And despair.
The boy never understood what he had done so well that his father never liked him. If he didn't like him, why did he give birth to him?
Efforts again and again can only usher in despair again and again. He seems to have understood that no matter how well he does, he is always just an unwanted child.
At the moment when the door was about to close, he lowered his head as many times as before, and Mr. Simon's eyes moved away from him.
"Young master..."
The housekeeper stood outside the door. He knew what had happened, but he couldn't do anything.
In fact, compared with Mr. Simon, a foreigner, he has a better view of the young master in his family, which may be because at least half of the blood of nagary people flows through the young master.
The young man looked at the housekeeper. The blood had already dyed his face red. He grinned, "father still hates me so much."
The housekeeper couldn't help taking out his handkerchief and pressing it on the young man's wound. He whispered, "it's not so, young master, in fact..." he wanted to make something up, but he found that no matter how he made it up, he couldn't change the fact.
"In fact, the master is in a bad mood recently. You know, Preston firm has closed down, and bailer people come here to rob business."
The young man was not moved. He just made the old housekeeper speechless with one sentence, "I'm his son..."
Yes, no matter how bad a person is, he can't do such a thing, smash his son's head with a cup and let him get out. It's still in front of many outsiders.
No matter how you explain it, you can't hide the cruel truth behind these problems. Mr. Simon, the owner of this family, just doesn't like his son, no matter how excellent he is.
The old housekeeper didn't dare to say anything. The boy pressed the handkerchief with his hand. "Well, Grandpa housekeeper, don't worry about me. It used to be like this, and it will be like this in the future. If you get used to it, you don't feel terrible."
"Your head..." the old housekeeper was distressed. He saw the young master change from Baba to what he is now. Moreover, the young master was also very polite. A word from the housekeeper grandpa bought the housekeeper's heart.
But there are many problems between the father and son. He can only choose silence.
At this time, I saw that the young master's head was broken. For a moment, I really had an impulse to ask Master Simon why he did this.
"I don't bleed much anymore..." the boy loosened some handkerchiefs a little and couldn't feel the new heat flow coming out of the wound. In fact, the hole was not big, but there was a little more blood flow, which was just scary.
Now after pressing for a while, the blood stopped.
The old housekeeper was still worried, "young master, go to the yard and I'll ask the family to treat your wound..."
The boy nodded, "please, and don't let my mother know about it."
The old housekeeper nodded again and left quickly. The boy went to the corner of the yard and found a place to sit down. Not long after, a maid in her thirties quickly came over with a medicine box in her hand.
Sitting in the shade under the tree, the young man calmly looked at the street scene in the distance, and the sadness in his eyes could not even melt the remaining sunshine.
"Thank you!" after the maid helped him deal with the wound, he turned back to thank each other for their efforts. The maid also knew the situation at home, comforted the teenager and left.
Just as the boy was about to go back, there were some riots outside.
Some young people gathered together. They seemed to be arguing, as if they had something to do with foreigners.
He stopped and looked for a little while. He thought it was boring and went back.
He knew that what Mr. Simon disliked most was his dealings with those no three no four people. He had few friends of his age.
He didn't know. At this time, he fell into Mr. Simon's eyes.
"After all, it's an Aboriginal bitch..." Mr. Simon in the room took off the cigarette in his mouth and spit out the thick smoke. He turned and looked at the others.
The child who was not liked by him was soon thrown out of his mind. What he was most concerned about now was what federal businessmen would bring and what they would bring to him.
"Nadal joint development company does not agree to our participation. If we can't participate, it means that we can't get the quota..."
The gentleman who is talking is also not a native, but also a businessman from abroad who lives here. "I heard some internal news through some relations. They also intend to cover all import and export trade as the firm did before."
"Major shareholders can export or import anything at will, while minority shareholders have to import and export by virtue of quotas. Their management is more strict than those of Preston."
"If we can't join the joint development company and get some stocks, it means that our goods can't go out and the outside goods can't come in, and we will immediately lose the way to make money."
Another gentleman knocked on the tea table with his hand. He picked up the kettle and poured himself a glass of water. He drank a mouthful without grace. "Have you contacted Lynch? I heard we were assigned his men here. Why should he be on an equal footing with those consortia?"
The others looked at Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon was still smoking by the window. The disgusting child disappeared into the yard before he looked out again.
At this time, when the person behind asked, he immediately nodded and replied, "I've sent a message. Anyway, I'll find a way to see him."
"As for why he can be on an equal footing with large consortia, perhaps it is because he represents the interests of the federal president."
His words stunned the others, "what new news do you have?"
"Nothing new, just a guess." Mr. Simon put out his cigarette and went back to the sofa to sit down. He poured himself water and said, "Lynch and Truman have a good personal relationship, and also have a good relationship with the president."
"It's hard not to imagine whether there will be some interest exchanges between them. You know, if there is no president or Truman behind Lynch, those big consortia will not look at him."
Another asked, "you mean there is little hope. After all, what we want to fight for is not Lynch's share, but the president's or Truman's share?"
Mr. Simon smiled noncommittally. He took up his glass and drank it. After smoking for a long time, he was a little thirsty.
He put down the glass and said, "but whether I guess right or not, this is our last chance. I will try my best to fight for it, but we should also be prepared."
He pondered for a moment. "Once the situation is wrong, we will withdraw from nagary."
His expression was serious, which made some people uneasy.
After a few seconds, someone broke the uneasy atmosphere, "it's impossible. You know, we're not these natives. If they fight us, the only thing that will lose face is the Federation!"
Mr. Simon thought for a moment and seemed to agree with him, but he still kept his caution. "I hope they will take into account the face of themselves and the country, but I'm always worried."
"In fact, we have made a lot of money these years. If we can't, it's not impossible to take a step back."
"Being an apartment in China lacks some wonderful life, but it's better to be stable, and I'm a little homesick..." he looked up at a picture in the cabinet in front of him, with his wife and his children on it.
They have the same blood, the same skin color, pupil color, speak the same accent and receive the same education
That's his family!
That's his child!
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
The broken cup is still spinning on the ground, and the clear vibrato still retains its aftertaste. The air in the room seems to have a brief stagnation in that moment.
The people sitting next to Mr. Simon didn't say anything. It was Simon's family business and they had no right to interfere.
The boy took off from the vertigo. At the moment when he was dark and the sky was spinning, he kept standing steadily. He ignored the heat flow slowly flowing down his head and still kept his humble, careful and expectant smile.
"Father, I've come to bring you some tea and cakes for more than two hours."
Mr. Simon glanced at the almost empty kettle on the tea table in front of him, and then said indifferently, "put things on the shelf next to you, and then go out. No one can come in without my permission, including you!"
The boy carefully put the tray sprinkled with some tea on one side of the shelf. There is a base for putting some small parts. There is a small decoration like a very shallow soup basin on it, which is concave in the middle.
When such small pieces of things are put in, there is no need to worry that they will "run" everywhere.
It is not a place for pallets, but it now carries a pallet that does not belong to it and should not be carried by it.
"I left first, father, and gentlemen..." the boy bowed down and left. When he closed the door, there was not even a sound.
At the moment when the door was about to close, the boy raised his head. In the narrow world of the door, his eyes and Mr. Simon's eyes met.
A look full of disgust. Simon never liked the child. If he didn't want to have a good relationship with the locals as soon as possible, if he didn't want to dilute his label of "foreigner", he wouldn't marry an indigenous woman and have a child here.
A bastard, bitch, or whatever, in his eyes, the child is just a prop, a prop used to maintain his image in the eyes of the local people.
But with the addition of foreign forces, the businessmen of the Federation, and the escape of Preston, these things became worthless, and he became more tired of this unpleasant child.
Compared with Mr. Simon's strongly hated eyes, the young man's eyes are much simpler, with expectations, humbleness, sadness... And despair.
The boy never understood what he had done so well that his father never liked him. If he didn't like him, why did he give birth to him?
Efforts again and again can only usher in despair again and again. He seems to have understood that no matter how well he does, he is always just an unwanted child.
At the moment when the door was about to close, he lowered his head as many times as before, and Mr. Simon's eyes moved away from him.
"Young master..."
The housekeeper stood outside the door. He knew what had happened, but he couldn't do anything.
In fact, compared with Mr. Simon, a foreigner, he has a better view of the young master in his family, which may be because at least half of the blood of nagary people flows through the young master.
The young man looked at the housekeeper. The blood had already dyed his face red. He grinned, "father still hates me so much."
The housekeeper couldn't help taking out his handkerchief and pressing it on the young man's wound. He whispered, "it's not so, young master, in fact..." he wanted to make something up, but he found that no matter how he made it up, he couldn't change the fact.
"In fact, the master is in a bad mood recently. You know, Preston firm has closed down, and bailer people come here to rob business."
The young man was not moved. He just made the old housekeeper speechless with one sentence, "I'm his son..."
Yes, no matter how bad a person is, he can't do such a thing, smash his son's head with a cup and let him get out. It's still in front of many outsiders.
No matter how you explain it, you can't hide the cruel truth behind these problems. Mr. Simon, the owner of this family, just doesn't like his son, no matter how excellent he is.
The old housekeeper didn't dare to say anything. The boy pressed the handkerchief with his hand. "Well, Grandpa housekeeper, don't worry about me. It used to be like this, and it will be like this in the future. If you get used to it, you don't feel terrible."
"Your head..." the old housekeeper was distressed. He saw the young master change from Baba to what he is now. Moreover, the young master was also very polite. A word from the housekeeper grandpa bought the housekeeper's heart.
But there are many problems between the father and son. He can only choose silence.
At this time, I saw that the young master's head was broken. For a moment, I really had an impulse to ask Master Simon why he did this.
"I don't bleed much anymore..." the boy loosened some handkerchiefs a little and couldn't feel the new heat flow coming out of the wound. In fact, the hole was not big, but there was a little more blood flow, which was just scary.
Now after pressing for a while, the blood stopped.
The old housekeeper was still worried, "young master, go to the yard and I'll ask the family to treat your wound..."
The boy nodded, "please, and don't let my mother know about it."
The old housekeeper nodded again and left quickly. The boy went to the corner of the yard and found a place to sit down. Not long after, a maid in her thirties quickly came over with a medicine box in her hand.
Sitting in the shade under the tree, the young man calmly looked at the street scene in the distance, and the sadness in his eyes could not even melt the remaining sunshine.
"Thank you!" after the maid helped him deal with the wound, he turned back to thank each other for their efforts. The maid also knew the situation at home, comforted the teenager and left.
Just as the boy was about to go back, there were some riots outside.
Some young people gathered together. They seemed to be arguing, as if they had something to do with foreigners.
He stopped and looked for a little while. He thought it was boring and went back.
He knew that what Mr. Simon disliked most was his dealings with those no three no four people. He had few friends of his age.
He didn't know. At this time, he fell into Mr. Simon's eyes.
"After all, it's an Aboriginal bitch..." Mr. Simon in the room took off the cigarette in his mouth and spit out the thick smoke. He turned and looked at the others.
The child who was not liked by him was soon thrown out of his mind. What he was most concerned about now was what federal businessmen would bring and what they would bring to him.
"Nadal joint development company does not agree to our participation. If we can't participate, it means that we can't get the quota..."
The gentleman who is talking is also not a native, but also a businessman from abroad who lives here. "I heard some internal news through some relations. They also intend to cover all import and export trade as the firm did before."
"Major shareholders can export or import anything at will, while minority shareholders have to import and export by virtue of quotas. Their management is more strict than those of Preston."
"If we can't join the joint development company and get some stocks, it means that our goods can't go out and the outside goods can't come in, and we will immediately lose the way to make money."
Another gentleman knocked on the tea table with his hand. He picked up the kettle and poured himself a glass of water. He drank a mouthful without grace. "Have you contacted Lynch? I heard we were assigned his men here. Why should he be on an equal footing with those consortia?"
The others looked at Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon was still smoking by the window. The disgusting child disappeared into the yard before he looked out again.
At this time, when the person behind asked, he immediately nodded and replied, "I've sent a message. Anyway, I'll find a way to see him."
"As for why he can be on an equal footing with large consortia, perhaps it is because he represents the interests of the federal president."
His words stunned the others, "what new news do you have?"
"Nothing new, just a guess." Mr. Simon put out his cigarette and went back to the sofa to sit down. He poured himself water and said, "Lynch and Truman have a good personal relationship, and also have a good relationship with the president."
"It's hard not to imagine whether there will be some interest exchanges between them. You know, if there is no president or Truman behind Lynch, those big consortia will not look at him."
Another asked, "you mean there is little hope. After all, what we want to fight for is not Lynch's share, but the president's or Truman's share?"
Mr. Simon smiled noncommittally. He took up his glass and drank it. After smoking for a long time, he was a little thirsty.
He put down the glass and said, "but whether I guess right or not, this is our last chance. I will try my best to fight for it, but we should also be prepared."
He pondered for a moment. "Once the situation is wrong, we will withdraw from nagary."
His expression was serious, which made some people uneasy.
After a few seconds, someone broke the uneasy atmosphere, "it's impossible. You know, we're not these natives. If they fight us, the only thing that will lose face is the Federation!"
Mr. Simon thought for a moment and seemed to agree with him, but he still kept his caution. "I hope they will take into account the face of themselves and the country, but I'm always worried."
"In fact, we have made a lot of money these years. If we can't, it's not impossible to take a step back."
"Being an apartment in China lacks some wonderful life, but it's better to be stable, and I'm a little homesick..." he looked up at a picture in the cabinet in front of him, with his wife and his children on it.
They have the same blood, the same skin color, pupil color, speak the same accent and receive the same education
That's his family!
That's his child!
The broken cup is still spinning on the ground, and the clear vibrato still retains its aftertaste. The air in the room seems to have a brief stagnation in that moment.The people sitting next to Mr. Simon didn't say anything. It was Simon's family business and they had no right to interfere.The boy took off from the vertigo. At the moment when he was dark and the sky was spinning, he kept standing steadily. He ignored the heat flow slowly flowing down his head and still kept his humble, careful and expectant smile."Father, I've come to bring you some tea and cakes for more than two hours."Mr. Simon glanced at the almost empty kettle on the tea table in front of him, and then said indifferently, "put things on the shelf next to you, and then go out. No one can come in without my permission, including you!"The boy carefully put the tray sprinkled with some tea on one side of the shelf. There is a base for putting some small parts. There is a small decoration like a very shallow soup basin on it, which is concave in the middle.When such small pieces of things are put in, there is no need to worry that they will "run" everywhere.It is not a place for pallets, but it now carries a pallet that does not belong to it and should not be carried by it."I left first, father, and gentlemen..." the boy bowed down and left. When he closed the door, there was not even a sound.At the moment when the door was about to close, the boy raised his head. In the narrow world of the door, his eyes and Mr. Simon's eyes met.A look full of disgust. Simon never liked the child. If he didn't want to have a good relationship with the locals as soon as possible, if he didn't want to dilute his label of "foreigner", he wouldn't marry an indigenous woman and have a child here.A bastard, bitch, or whatever, in his eyes, the child is just a prop, a prop used to maintain his image in the eyes of the local people.But with the addition of foreign forces, the businessmen of the Federation, and the escape of Preston, these things became worthless, and he became more tired of this unpleasant child.Compared with Mr. Simon's strongly hated eyes, the young man's eyes are much simpler, with expectations, humbleness, sadness... And despair.The boy never understood what he had done so well that his father never liked him. If he didn't like him, why did he give birth to him?Efforts again and again can only usher in despair again and again. He seems to have understood that no matter how well he does, he is always just an unwanted child.At the moment when the door was about to close, he lowered his head as many times as before, and Mr. Simon's eyes moved away from him."Young master..."The housekeeper stood outside the door. He knew what had happened, but he couldn't do anything.In fact, compared with Mr. Simon, a foreigner, he has a better view of the young master in his family, which may be because at least half of the blood of nagary people flows through the young master.The young man looked at the housekeeper. The blood had already dyed his face red. He grinned, "father still hates me so much."The housekeeper couldn't help taking out his handkerchief and pressing it on the young man's wound. He whispered, "it's not so, young master, in fact..." he wanted to make something up, but he found that no matter how he made it up, he couldn't change the fact."In fact, the master is in a bad mood recently. You know, Preston firm has closed down, and bailer people come here to rob business."The young man was not moved. He just made the old housekeeper speechless with one sentence, "I'm his son..."Yes, no matter how bad a person is, he can't do such a thing, smash his son's head with a cup and let him get out. It's still in front of many outsiders.No matter how you explain it, you can't hide the cruel truth behind these problems. Mr. Simon, the owner of this family, just doesn't like his son, no matter how excellent he is.The old housekeeper didn't dare to say anything. The boy pressed the handkerchief with his hand. "Well, Grandpa housekeeper, don't worry about me. It used to be like this, and it will be like this in the future. If you get used to it, you don't feel terrible.""Your head..." the old housekeeper was distressed. He saw the young master change from Baba to what he is now. Moreover, the young master was also very polite. A word from the housekeeper grandpa bought the housekeeper's heart.But there are many problems between the father and son. He can only choose silence.At this time, I saw that the young master's head was broken. For a moment, I really had an impulse to ask Master Simon why he did this."I don't bleed much anymore..." the boy loosened some handkerchiefs a little and couldn't feel the new heat flow coming out of the wound. In fact, the hole was not big, but there was a little more blood flow, which was just scary.Now after pressing for a while, the blood stopped.The old housekeeper was still worried, "young master, go to the yard and I'll ask the family to treat your wound..."The boy nodded, "please, and don't let my mother know about it."The old housekeeper nodded again and left quickly. The boy went to the corner of the yard and found a place to sit down. Not long after, a maid in her thirties quickly came over with a medicine box in her hand.Sitting in the shade under the tree, the young man calmly looked at the street scene in the distance, and the sadness in his eyes could not even melt the remaining sunshine."Thank you!" after the maid helped him deal with the wound, he turned back to thank each other for their efforts. The maid also knew the situation at home, comforted the teenager and left.Just as the boy was about to go back, there were some riots outside.Some young people gathered together. They seemed to be arguing, as if they had something to do with foreigners.He stopped and looked for a little while. He thought it was boring and went back.He knew that what Mr. Simon disliked most was his dealings with those no three no four people. He had few friends of his age.He didn't know. At this time, he fell into Mr. Simon's eyes."After all, it's an Aboriginal bitch..." Mr. Simon in the room took off the cigarette in his mouth and spit out the thick smoke. He turned and looked at the others.The child who was not liked by him was soon thrown out of his mind. What he was most concerned about now was what federal businessmen would bring and what they would bring to him."Nadal joint development company does not agree to our participation. If we can't participate, it means that we can't get the quota..."The gentleman who is talking is also not a native, but also a businessman from abroad who lives here. "I heard some internal news through some relations. They also intend to cover all import and export trade as the firm did before.""Major shareholders can export or import anything at will, while minority shareholders have to import and export by virtue of quotas. Their management is more strict than those of Preston.""If we can't join the joint development company and get some stocks, it means that our goods can't go out and the outside goods can't come in, and we will immediately lose the way to make money."Another gentleman knocked on the tea table with his hand. He picked up the kettle and poured himself a glass of water. He drank a mouthful without grace. "Have you contacted Lynch? I heard we were assigned his men here. Why should he be on an equal footing with those consortia?"The others looked at Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon was still smoking by the window. The disgusting child disappeared into the yard before he looked out again.At this time, when the person behind asked, he immediately nodded and replied, "I've sent a message. Anyway, I'll find a way to see him.""As for why he can be on an equal footing with large consortia, perhaps it is because he represents the interests of the federal president."His words stunned the others, "what new news do you have?""Nothing new, just a guess." Mr. Simon put out his cigarette and went back to the sofa to sit down. He poured himself water and said, "Lynch and Truman have a good personal relationship, and also have a good relationship with the president.""It's hard not to imagine whether there will be some interest exchanges between them. You know, if there is no president or Truman behind Lynch, those big consortia will not look at him."Another asked, "you mean there is little hope. After all, what we want to fight for is not Lynch's share, but the president's or Truman's share?"Mr. Simon smiled noncommittally. He took up his glass and drank it. After smoking for a long time, he was a little thirsty.He put down the glass and said, "but whether I guess right or not, this is our last chance. I will try my best to fight for it, but we should also be prepared."He pondered for a moment. "Once the situation is wrong, we will withdraw from nagary."His expression was serious, which made some people uneasy.After a few seconds, someone broke the uneasy atmosphere, "it's impossible. You know, we're not these natives. If they fight us, the only thing that will lose face is the Federation!"Mr. Simon thought for a moment and seemed to agree with him, but he still kept his caution. "I hope they will take into account the face of themselves and the country, but I'm always worried.""In fact, we have made a lot of money these years. If we can't, it's not impossible to take a step back.""Being an apartment in China lacks some wonderful life, but it's better to be stable, and I'm a little homesick..." he looked up at a picture in the cabinet in front of him, with his wife and his children on it.They have the same blood, the same skin color, pupil color, speak the same accent and receive the same educationThat's his family!That's his child!
