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Qin Guan's eyes competed brightly, staring at the ceiling of this empty room and expressing his ambitions.

"Wei Zi?"

"Ok?"

"You said that we can also buy one or two cabins, either for investment or simply for vacation."

"In this way, whether I go to Los Angeles for filming or go horse riding in Texas, I don't have to live in a cold hotel, but have a room like a home."

"It's such an interesting thing. Every time I go to a place, I have my own space. It's a very beautiful thing to think about."

"What do you think of my idea?"

Cong Nianwei rubbed his head to Qin Guan's side and closed his eyes gently: "Not very good."

"What kind of room do you want to buy? It wouldn't be worth much if a tree house in the woods. But you know how much it costs to buy a Los Angeles house?"

"There are also these valuable real estates, where are you going to put in, the annual maintenance costs? You can't go to a place, even the water and electricity facilities are outdated and can't be used?"

"Well, there is also the strange property tax in the United States, which is also a lot of expenses...Do you think we have become rich?"

Qin Guan stretched out his arm and drew Cong Nianwei close to him again: "I'm not sure, you know that my accounting firm's profit momentum is steadily rising."

"And my one-year endorsement fee is starting to approach the level of the first-line female models in the world."

"In addition to my real estate in China, my intangible assets and fixed assets add up to the value of a multi-millionaire."

"What do you think of your boyfriend who has become a rich man?"

Cong Nianwei’s obedient focus was not on Qin Guan’s channel. She just strangely rubbed her boyfriend’s chest: “Apart from that small house and a big cut, what other fixed assets do you have in China? what."

Qin Guan closed his eyes smugly and found a most comfortable posture on the pillow. "I forgot to say that I bought 8 sets of large-scale yards close to 500 square meters, right on the East Second Ring Road." "

"When I finish my busy work this year, I might go back to China to participate in an important mission given by the country. At that time I will go to see the market."

"Pooh, it's an important mission. Who is the one who doesn't do anything when crying and crying..."

"There is no girlfriend who can demolish a station more than you..."

In fact, after getting rid of the hustle and bustle of big cities, it is really easy for people to return to the origin of nature. Those inconvenient and uncomfortable feelings without high-tech products will adjust themselves after you really lose them. Go slowly.

The morning dew slowly slid down the slightly spread leaves, and the caterpillars falling down were struggling to form cocoons.

Qin Guan, who got up early in the morning, had already replaced the muddy shirt that was crazy yesterday, wearing only a very elegant black vest and shorts, standing above the empty field in the backyard of the house.

Each wave of the small axe in his hand was a strange place in the head of a firewood. At this time, his side was already covered with processed branches.

This is the only thing that Qin Guan can think of when he leaves this small manor full of humanistic care and original taste, for the respectable old grandma Martha Dudow.

She is a person worthy of admiration. Even if her partner and children have left her one after another because of her isolated lifestyle, she will not change her original intention for this.

And to do more for her, in the winter, this very old man does not need to spend any more effort to deal with these firewood.

Lin Lun, who shook his uncle, took the pipe from his mouth, patted Qin Guan's arm that had finished his work, and spoke the last words before the two separated.

"I'm back in New York. I'll call your agent. The next issue of TIME, the cover of Time Magazine, I will keep it for you."

Qin Guan stopped his sweating gesture in horror, and asked with surprise: "Aren't you always a photojournalist for People Weekly? How can you become the head of Time Weekly now?"

Lin Lun on the other side was glaring and took a hard pipe: "I know that your kid doesn't know who I am at all. Also, the girl Qu Xuemei has been whispering in my ear. Your kind words."

He took a look at the shredded tobacco, and turned the pipe over with some regrets, knocking twice next to the fence.

"I haven't taken pictures in years, and I remember my first picture was the cover of the first issue for VOGUE."

"Hehehe, in fact, before that, I always wanted to be a painter. You have to know that in 1940, photographers were not really good."

"Later, I am old and don't take shots easily, so as long as I want, my photos of Owen Payne Linlun can appear in the most influential magazines in America today."

Qin looked at the old man in front of him and filled the pipe with brown tobacco in his hand. He still puzzled and said: "So, why do you help me like this?"

The misty white smoke drifted between Lin Lun and Qin Guan, forming a hazy smoke wall.

Lin Lun's mouth still carries his unique jokes: "Because, you meet the dream of any portrait photographer, pay attention to portraits, not characters."

"People rely on the background and clothing to change a scene or the way they are photographed."

"That actually has brought out the photographer's ideas and the needs of this market. Too many emotions that do not belong to the original source are reflected in such photos, which is not what I need now."

"I, Lin Lun, have already made a name for themselves. There is no need to please the audience or to shoot for the needs of the market."

"Now I am obsessed with portrait photography because only with that kind of photography, I can see in the lens what I want to see, the most real joys and sorrows..."

"So TIME magazine, the magazine that only put a large portrait or photo of a person on the cover, how can I not add a foot?"

Speaking of this, Lin Lun laughed again. With his free hand, he pointed to the hill-like firewood piled under Qin Guan’s feet: 'S face is published in Time Weekly, what's wrong with it?"

Qin Guan's speechless scratching his head, it seems that the ancestor's propaganda policy of humanity is sometimes really effective. (To be continued.)

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