Wen Han almost jumped up from the chair.
The man approached silently, and neither she nor Agassi noticed. She was afraid of him and wanted to avoid him, but his frivolous tone was very Moscow-like, but Agassi was surprised and even had a sudden affection for him. In particular, the Russian sentence he said when he approached just now made Agassi feel more cordial.
Because of the friends around him, Wen Han couldn't have any verbal conflict with him, but he was obviously rejecting him.
Cheng Muyun, on the other hand, behaved very modestly. He was a man with every gesture and gesture. He gave in many times due to his warm words and attitudes, and acted as if he met them by chance in the laundry room in the afternoon. The coffee is terrible, but I know there's a shop here in Thamel that sells coffee at night and the food tastes good."
"Oh?" Agassi rested his chin lightly, resting his elbows on the low table at the bar, more and more highlighting the perfect arc of his chest, "How good?" "How good?" Cheng Muyun repeated her question softly, with a tail Slightly rose, "It's hard to explain this kind of non-standard problem, at least it won't let you drink the taste of India."
Nepalese eating habits are mostly copied from India.
They had come all the way from India, and had long been fed up with the spice that appeared all the time. Hearing him say this, they felt that all kinds of rich and spicy spices began to waft around their bodies again.
"Then go try." Agassi smiled.
"It's dangerous to go outside at this time." Wen Han said in a low voice.
Cheng Muyun's physique is not like an ordinary Chinese, just sitting there, he can show the height advantage of condescending. He put his arms on the back of the sofa and leaned lazily, his gesture and tone as if he would fall asleep at any moment. This person can completely separate himself into a painting. For example, at this moment, what he thinks of is the old stove in Moscow. There is only such a face in the entire empty space with beating flames.
He noticed that Wen Han was staring at him with some disgust, and glanced at her from under his drooping eyelashes.
"It's my honor to serve beautiful women, if the two ladies don't mind, please wait a moment," he stood up from the crimson sofa, "I will bring you back two cups of authentic and fragrant coffee. "
After he finished speaking, he nodded politely and left the bar.
As he pushed the door, the copper bell hanging at the door rang again, mysteriously and pleasantly, sending off the guest.
"Wen Han," Agassi looked at Cheng Muyun's back through the door glass, and complained softly about Wen Han's indifference, "What's wrong with you? I've never seen such an interesting Chinese, he has my favorite pure black eyes. Did you notice, I've never seen a man with such long eyelashes, with such beautiful eyes, like..." Agassi wanted to describe it, but found that he was short of words, and he even popped out the spices he had eaten in India, "like It's rosemary. I tell you, Wen Han, as long as he looks at me, I feel hot all over."
"Well, I know you like this kind of person."
Wen Han wrapped her shawl tightly. She could no longer sit here pretending that nothing had happened, waiting for the unique cup of coffee that the man said. She needed to find an excuse to leave Agassi, who was still eagerly waiting, and go upstairs alone.
It seems cloudy tonight with no stars.
Wen Han walked up the stairs to the third floor, and a slight wind blew in through the window. She found that there was a card under the door of her room, and the card showed a corner under the door, as if it was deliberate. Picking it up and looking at it, there really is a very simple sentence on it, a handwritten love poem. At this time, Wang Wenhao was still hanging out with Rum, who was with him, and this card must have been placed here before he left, when she was not paying attention.
Wen Han walked into the dark room, opened the drawer, and put the cards in. The cards from the previous 24 days were also handled in the same way. They were placed in the drawer of an unfamiliar hotel, waiting for others to collect them. She discreetly locked all doors and windows and went to take a shower.
Reached out and tried the temperature, just as the forum said, it was barely cold.
She pushed her hair forward and rubbed her scalp.
Wen Han didn't know that after the man she feared left the inn, he just took out a dollar bill from his body and handed it to another older Indian doorman waiting at the door: "Go and buy it for the two ladies inside. Two cups of coffee." He didn't need to tell which one it was, the Indian doorman was already familiar with his habit and happily served as the errand this time.
This regular customer likes to use dollar bills.
As long as you accept it, the proprietress will naturally help to exchange it for rubles, and the errand fee is also a small profit. What a generous guest, when the doorman was squatting in front of the coffee shop, he was still praying like this, this great monk who is still from the secular world can stay longer.
Nepalese live a very leisurely life.
Most shops open at noon to welcome customers and close at six or seven o'clock.
Walking on the street at this time, the lights are dim, and there are clear dog barks near and far. He walked along the street, left Thamel, where foreign tourists often lived, and continued onward.
After passing an old small temple, he finally stopped.
In the darkness, a figure stood on the dirt road behind the temple, hunched over, standing alone. Cheng Muyun walked over, and the hunched old man immediately folded his hands and motioned for him to follow him. The two of them walked along the path full of small ditches and dirt, walked between the two walls, turned around, and entered a small underground casino.
Because there are not so many renovation costs, the entire space is dilapidated, noisy, extravagant mixed with money transactions, and filled with smoke.
After Cheng Muyun walked into the casino, his guide changed from a rickety old man to an Indian boy with a red mark on his eyebrows.
Finally, I finally followed the boy and arrived at tonight's destination.
The little boy opened the last curtain with the pattern of six reincarnations for him.
Cheng Muyun walked in.
Under the wall lamp, beside the gaming table, leaned against a middle-aged man who was playing dice by himself. In the rest of the space, there were seven or eight men standing, either sitting or leaning against the gaming table, and only one was praying to the Buddha statue in the wall.
When he walked in, everyone turned their attention.
Yellow, black, blue eyes, all countries have.
The black-haired man who prayed to the Buddha statue also turned his head, showed his white teeth and smiled, put the yellow ivory dice on the gaming table, and introduced them to each other: "Boss Cheng, this is the bodyguard you want to invite. Meng Liangchuan, he is the person you named, so the price—"
"There is no need to discuss the price," Cheng Muyun looked at the man who was half a head shorter than himself, and told him directly in Chinese, "I will pay for your price directly."
Meng Liangchuan shrugged: "Happy, for the next six months, I will be responsible for your personal safety and all your needs in Nepal."
In fact, the people in this room are all extra options made by Boss Ke to prevent Cheng Muyun from being dissatisfied with Meng Liangchuan. Now that the two people have reached a verbal agreement, there is no need for others to stay. Boss Ke was both a middleman and a long-term information provider for Cheng Muyun. After he let the others leave, he began to introduce Meng Liangchuan's arrangements for the next half month.
The main goal was the group of tourists who suddenly came to the inn where Cheng Muyun was staying.
"Among them, there is a man with glasses named Wang Wenhao. He is a university professor and a smuggler. He came to Nepal as a tourist in name, but secretly, he came to Nepal to trade a batch of smugglers with people in camphor within the past ten days. Goods," Boss Ke explained to Meng Liangchuan, "The goods Wang Wenhao wants to exchange is Boss Cheng's goal."
"What is it?"
Boss Ke glanced at Cheng Muyun: "I can tell you that this thing was originally Boss Cheng's collection. When it was stolen, it was handled by several companies, and no one could manage it."
Meng Liangchuan said "oh", understood, and didn't ask any further questions.
There are many collectibles that are invaluable.
He really didn't expect to deal with Cheng Muyun head-on one day. How should I put it, the name Cheng Muyun has too many wonderful pasts, and he will never need a wild "bodyguard" in the past.
Of course, this was Meng Liangchuan's previous thoughts.
Everyone knows that Cheng Muyun lost all his money a few years ago, all his property was donated, and the world evaporated. Meng Liangchuan used his peripheral vision to appreciate the man beside him.
What is it that can make him reappear in the world
They continued talking about the plan.
"This Wang Wenhao is a tourist, how did you bring the goods?" Meng Liangchuan wondered.
"The goods were delivered to Nepal in half a year. Wang Wenhao is also looking for an intermediary for the past two days. He plans to hire a few bodyguards. After the exchange, he will directly enter Mongolia and return to Moscow as quickly as possible."
"Which delivery?"
"do not know."
"Where and when is the delivery?"
"I don't know." Boss Ke answered as a matter of course.
Meng Liangchuan smiled: "So I can only be by his side at any time and wait for an opportunity."
"That's right," Boss Ke smiled, "I've arranged for you and another person to meet him tomorrow and introduce him to be a "bodyguard". In this way, you have the best chance of getting in touch with the goods."
Meng Liangchuan understood the meaning: "I have no problem, I just want to know who the other person is. I don't like working with strangers very much."
"The other person is me."
The voice came from Cheng Muyun.
He was playing with four small dice, and the old yellowed dice ran between his fingers. Even with such a compact movement, the four dice never collided, and there was no sound of friction.
Clever and silent.