Waiting Upon You

Chapter 64: countercurrent

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The door of the manager's room was slammed open and slammed, and the young manager walked out with an uneven face.

"Yo," came the yin and yang strange tone from behind, "isn't this today's big headline."

No need to look back, the agent also knew who was coming, he stopped and waited for the person to walk around in front of him triumphantly.

"I really admire you." The person on the opposite side put his hands in his pockets and bowed forward, "None of your artists have ever appeared on the front page, so you did it first, what is this called? High rank. !"

"Have you said enough," the agent said coldly.

"Hey," the man sighed again, pretending to be regretful, "you and I joined the company in the same year, worked as an assistant under the same master, and became an agent in the same year. What's the result now? I have an artist in my hands. Compared with one with potential, the artists in your hands are unknown to each other, are you worthy of them?"

"At least I'm an agent," the agent retorted forcefully, "not a pimp."

The colleague sneered, "Unfortunately, this circle only asks about fame, not about means. At least I am better than you now, and you are going to pack up and leave soon. This is the truth."

He grabbed the newspaper on one side of the newspaper shelf, and took the newspaper clip and slammed it into his manager's arms. The huge headline was exposed - "Artists encounter unspoken rules, managers bombard the entertainment industry".

"Keep it and take it as a souvenir. This is the first headline in your life, and it's probably the last. Don't think that you will go out from here, and other brokerage companies will hire you. You don't follow the rules of the circle. ," he poked at the newspaper, "this is the price."

The manager grabbed the newspaper clip and said, "Don't worry, of course I will keep such a commemorative thing. Twenty years later, I will use him to educate my son, and be a man to straighten your spine, the artist is, the agent Humans too, as long as you wear your personal name, don’t do things that go against your conscience.”

"But this word," the agent pressed the newspaper clip against his chest, "I'm afraid you have already deleted it from the input method."

"I like this job very much, but if I want to join forces with you, then I don't have to do this kind of work!"

After he finished speaking, he walked away without looking back, and a frantic mockery from his colleagues came from behind him, "Get out of here with your dream!"

The agent walked out of the company gate with a cardboard box, and only two people came out to see him off. He didn't look up, but he knew that there must be many former colleagues looking at him through the glass above his head, and when he thought of this, his back straightened.

One of the two people who saw him off was the newcomer who was on the front page with him today. He had only debuted for half a year. I had never seen such a posture, and he kept crying after his manager.

The scorching sun was in the sky, the high temperature and the crying were intertwined, making the agent feel irritable.

"Have you cried enough?" He couldn't help but turned his head and reprimanded, "If you could become famous after shedding two tears, you would have won the Golden Rabbit Award long ago!"

The little girl was so fierce by him that she didn't even dare to cry, sobbing softly.

The agent couldn't bear it anymore. He could get out of this quagmire right away, but when he thought that the other party had to walk alone in such a complicated situation, he couldn't help but worry about her future.

"Do you really have to stop being an agent?" asked the other person who saw him off. "I think you're a good agent."

He gathered up his courage, "Brother, which company are you going to jump to, I'll jump with you."

The agent smiled bitterly, "It's not that I don't want to do it, it's that I can't do it. I made a big taboo in this industry, and no agency will hire me anymore."

The little girl on the side cried out loudly, and her eyes turned even redder.

The agent turned around, trying his best not to let his emotions out. He is also just thirty years old, and he is still full of energy. He has also worked hard with the goal of being an ace broker, and he also fantasizes that one day his artist can become a singer and actor, standing on the podium and facing the camera to thank his broker.

However, today, all this is over. If time goes back, will he still be so impulsive that he can't even give the answer himself.

With his cardboard box, the agent stepped away from the company's gate, raised his hand, and it was not a taxi that stopped, but a black car.

The person who got on and off the co-pilot was in his early fifties. He politely nodded to the manager, "May I ask if this is... sir?"

The agent was not surprised that the other party would know his name. His name and photo were published in today's morning paper, and his personal information was more detailed than the wanted warrant.

"What's the matter?" he asked suspiciously.

The old man handed over an A4-sized envelope, the agent took it, opened it, and his eyes widened.

His cell phone also happened to ring at this time, and the manager didn't answer the call until the third ring.

"Which one?"

"Have you seen the contract?" A very strange voice came from the phone.

The agent frowned, "Who are you?"

"If you sign a contract, I'm your future employer, otherwise we're strangers."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I read this morning's paper."

"You dare to sign me after seeing it?"

"It's because I saw it that I found you," the strange voice said, "of course you can choose not to sign, but I think you must know that if you still want to work in this business, this is probably what you can get. The last contract."

"Does this count as intimidation?" The agent thought it was funny, and said casually, "What about lure?"

"The lure has been written clearly in black and white."

The agent glanced through the contract quickly and gasped when he saw the salary item.

"Are you sure you're not kidding me? This is a trick show, right, where's the camera?" He looked around.

"I don't think I have that interest."

"How can I trust you?"

"I will advance your salary for a year," the old man handed over another envelope just right, with a bank card embedded in it, "and my request is that you will be working immediately."

"So soon?" The agent was still dubious, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to go to a place and pick up someone. He will be the only artist you will be responsible for in the next ten years."

"One?"

"I want you to treat him wholeheartedly, from work arrangements to daily life, you must take care of him in every possible way."

The agent was speechless, "Am I his agent, or his father?"

"If possible, I would prefer you to be his family."

The agent looked up at the sky, "What's his name?"

"Ling Lang! Someone protects you, come out!"

The manager was startled by the bang of the iron door. He looked around, and the mysterious man asked him to pick him up, but he never thought he was going to the detention center.

His thoughts drifted back to ten minutes ago—

"Are you sure he's the person I'm looking for?" The agent read the file several times and couldn't believe that the artist he would be responsible for in the future turned out to be a prisoner.

"Why don't you even know who you are looking for?" the police officer asked back.

The agent stared straight at the photo on the file, "What did he do?"

"Intentionally hurt people."

"Is it serious?"

The police officer looked at him with a half-smile but not a smile, "Severe children and grandchildren's feet, do you think it's serious?"

The manager immediately felt a dull pain in his crotch. He never imagined that the seemingly harmless young man in this photo was actually such a hidden violent person.

"Who is the other party?"

"It's inconvenient to disclose."

"Then... he committed such a big thing, and he can be granted bail?"

The police officer gave him a strange look, "You caught the man, and now you're asking me again? I'm only responsible for carrying out orders." He picked up the key and walked inside, "However, the one he injured was also a big man. , when he brought him in, he threatened to imprison him for the rest of his life, but I couldn't see it, the backstage was tough, buddies."

Inexplicably, there is a backstage, and an agent who doesn't know who the backstage is at all is the first time he has entered a place like the detention center. The environment here is already very bad, and the prison must not be as good as here. Thinking of being locked in that kind of cage for a lifetime, the agent felt that it would be better to die.

The dangerous violent element is now less than two meters in front of the agent. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers are crossed on his knees, his head is slightly lowered, and the flowing sea covers his true face.

Hearing the police officer's call, he slowly raised his head, and his pure black eyes met his manager, who seemed to have fallen into a bottomless cold pool.

He has been detained here for several days, and his face is obviously tired, but he is not depressed.

"Who are you?" These were the first words that the twenty-two-year-old Ling Lang said when he met his thirty-year-old manager for the first time.

The agent was stunned for a few seconds, then realized his gaffe, put his fist to his mouth and covered it with a light cough.

He stepped forward in two steps, "I'm your agent."

Ling Lang looked at him blankly, "My agent came yesterday and canceled the contract with me."

The agent scolded the fuck in his heart, "From today onwards, I am your new agent, and the people and things in the past have nothing to do with you."

Ling Lang was still sitting there, as if carefully discerning the truth of his words. The manager reached out to him without a doubt, and used an unprecedented firm voice to drag Ling Lang back to the established trajectory from a world that did not belong to him.

"Come on, come home with me."

"How is he doing lately?"

The agent has become accustomed to this kind of remote telephone work report, and even the strange voice is habitually accepted, "Yes, he is very hardworking and talented. I recently arranged two auditions for him, and he All played well, just…”

"Just what?"

"His personality is a little withdrawn. I am afraid that such a personality will be at a disadvantage in the entertainment industry. I don't know if it is innate or stimulated? If it is because of that, I suggest him to undergo a formal psychological treatment."

The other party pondered for a few seconds, "Understood, I will pay attention to this matter."

"And..." The agent pondered, "I asked from the side, the person Ling Lang kicked and injured before seems to be his advertiser?"

The other party did not speak, which was the default.

"I don't know if this is the reason. When I made a prospect plan for him, every time I mentioned the word advertising, he showed rejection."

"In this case," the mysterious man said decisively, "there is no need for him to accept advertisements in the future."

The agent was stunned, "But advertising is also a way of reflecting the value of an artist."

"Ling Lang's value doesn't need to be reflected through advertisements," the man rejected, "I want you to follow his wishes unconditionally. If he doesn't want to accept the script, he can not accept it; if he doesn't want to appear in the announcement, he does not have to accept it; If he doesn't want to go to the entertainment, he doesn't have to go; if he doesn't want to see people, he can go away. His job is to do what he wants to do, and the rest is your job. "

The agent was going crazy, "Am I cultivating an artist, or am I taking care of my son? No, if this is my son, I have to kick him out and let him experience it. He is my daughter at all!"

"I said, I want to lift him to the top of the pyramid, I want everyone to see him and can only look up, I want everyone to accept his original character, and don't want him to change to suit anyone."

The agent was completely stunned by his bold words, "Boss, can I take the liberty of asking about your name?"

The opposite side was silent for a moment, "My surname is Mo, you can call me Mr. Mo."

The agent was so frightened that he almost dropped his phone. Mr. Mo's name has almost become a legend. No one has seen it, but no one knows it. No one knows it. The words just now came from someone else's mouth without knowing how high the sky is, and what came out of his mouth was just something that could be done with a gesture.

For the first time, he knew that he had been talking to such a big man all the time, and even his voice stuttered.

"Then, then dare to ask, who is Ling Lang from you?"

A chuckle came from the microphone, and even the deliberately handled voice became gentle.

"He is my most important person, and I entrust him to you, I hope you will not disappoint me."