I Became an Anonymous Boss

The middle-aged man's fingers stiffened, his expression was joyful for a moment, and he said in shock, "You, are you... are you?"

"Uncle Hua." Bai Susu said with a calm smile, "I haven't seen you for seven years...won't you invite me in?"

The painter's expression changed several times, from joy and surprise to depression and silence.

"...Hey." The painter sighed, and stepped aside: "Come in, I'll pour you a cup of hot tea."

Bai Susu tied up the horse, followed the painter to the reception room, and looked at the paintings on both sides.

"Uncle Hua...but his painting skills have improved a lot." Bai Susu said, "Those portraits are lifelike."

The painter was silent for a while, then shook his head and said, "It's not that the art of painting has improved."

The two sat down, and the painter began to boil water to make tea.

Bai Susu looked down at the teapot and tea set, and could see that this set of tea set was complete and rare.

She said: "Uncle Hua still likes tea art as always, isn't this purple clay teapot cheap?"

"Send it." The painter paused for a moment, and then asked, "When did you come back?"

"today."

"Come and see me when you come back?"

"I'm not sure if you're still here, I'm just trying my luck, I didn't expect you're still here." Bai Susu said, "Nothing has changed, it looks really good."

"Hasn't it changed?" The painter asked back, "Obviously everything has changed."

"Uncle Hua hasn't changed much in my opinion."

"I've changed a lot." The painter smiled wryly: "You too, you've grown up and are different from before. You haven't had a good life in the past seven years."

"I didn't suffer too much. At least I have food to eat, clothes to wear, and a place to live. How about hard work, Uncle Hua?" Bai Susu asked, "Did you live well in the past seven years?"

"There is food to eat, clothes to wear, tea to make and paintings to paint." The painter said: "It's not bad."

"Where are Auntie and Xiaoxiao?"

"They're still there, one is taking care of the elderly at home, and the other is studying in school." The painter lowered his head to look at the charcoal fire with a calm expression: "It's hard to see each other, but we can still get together in January..."

"That's considered happiness." Bai Susu was sincerely happy for him: "At least the whole family is here, so we can have a happy reunion."

"It would be great if the family can be reunited." The painter also showed a slight smile, and then restrained himself: "About your family, I... am very sorry."

"Bai's should be like this, this is the mission of our clan." Bai Susu said calmly: "I have no regrets. If I say regret, it's probably because of failure. It's because of Lin'an City...Speaking of it, why did Uncle Hua stay here?" In Lin'an City?"

The painter did not answer, but began to pour tea into the teapot, watching the steam rise.

"Why did you come back?"

"Mother has passed away." Bai Susu whispered: "I have nothing to worry about, so I came back."

"Care? Does your mother want you to come back?" The painter asked back: "It has been seven years, and I can vividly remember what happened seven years ago. After seven years of suffering, you have finally grown up and have the ability Why do you want to come back when you have a family outside?"

"I am a descendant of the Bai family." Bai Susu replied, "If I don't come back, I will be a wandering ghost after I die."

"That's something after death." The painter said in a deep voice, "Aren't you going to die when you come back now? Moths are flying into the flames, and you are throwing yourself into a trap!"

Bai Susu remained silent, she did not argue.

"I needed a safe place to live," she said.

The painter held the handle of the teapot tightly and said solemnly: "What you need is to pack your bags and leave Lin'an City forever!"

"I can leave." Bai Susu looked at the painter: "But not now."

"What do you want to do?"

"Dragon vein." Bai Susu said seriously: "I want to take back the dragon vein!"

"..."

"Bai's mansion must be strictly guarded by demons. Although demons can't use or touch the dragon's veins, they will definitely prevent it from falling into other people's hands. I want to get back the dragon's veins. As long as I get back the dragon's veins, the dragon's guard will not perish , I may not be able to rely on me alone, but with the dragon veins, there is hope to integrate the Bai family, and even reconvene the Eight Fang Longshou..."

"Impossible." The painter shook his head heavily: "There is a big demon living in Bai's mansion, how are you going to snatch back the dragon's veins? Just you? Defeated by the joint efforts of the three great demons, there is absolutely no way you will be safe and sound, so give up..."

"Give up?" Bai Susu's voice was somewhat hoarse: "Hundreds of members of the Bai family were all buried in the hands of demons. You want me to give up? Do you want me to give up?"

"...You are here, and the Bai family has also left behind a kindling."

"Without the dragon veins, is the Bai clan of Qiantang still a dragon guard? Everything left by the clan in the past has vanished. This is the glory of the Bai clan and the reason we die for it." Bai Susu's eyes were like a torch, as if burning flames: "This More important than life to us."

"...It's nothing, it's more important than being alive!" The painter said in a low voice, "Revenge cannot bring your dead relatives back to life. You should find the living relatives instead of dying for glory."

Bai Susu smiled lowly, her voice was suppressed, and she took a deep breath: "Okay... I can take ten thousand steps back, I can give up, I can give up, I can give priority to living for the continuation of the Bai family, but then what?"

She suddenly got up and pointed out the window: "Where is Lin'an City? What about the life and death of hundreds of thousands or hundreds of thousands of people in Lin'an City? How many people have been eaten by demons in the past seven years, and how many people will they eat next! Who will give They are responsible for their lives! I can escape, but if I escape, the monsters will really lose all their enemies, and they will become more and more unscrupulous until this place turns into a dead city!"

"Until then, I really deserve to die. All the honors of the Bai clan will be destroyed in the hands of a coward like me."

Bai Susu asked, she sat down again, looked at the boiling water in the teapot, and said in a low voice: "Uncle Hua, some things are very difficult, but because you can't do it, can you not do it?"

The painter closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time, then opened his eyes, feeling unprecedentedly calm: "Lin'an will not become a dead city, nor will demons be unscrupulous, I am sure, if you want to ask why, I will give you a reason, because..."

When he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a sentence: "Dead in Marseille, is anyone home?"

-------------Chapter Dividing Line---------------

The young man shook the water droplets on the pitch-black umbrella, knocked on the wooden door, and attracted the attention of the room.

The painter's eyes fluctuated, and he interrupted the conversation: "We will talk about this matter later."

Bai Susu nodded and watched the painter leave.

She could hear that the voice just now was somewhat familiar, but her mind was confused, and she didn't pay much attention to the visitor.

Uncle Hua has indeed changed, he has become very strange.

When she was a child, she often came here. Uncle Hua and her father were good friends, and they made a living by buying paintings. His father liked his paintings very much, saying that there was spirituality in the paintings. If they were collected in advance, they would definitely be used as antiques in the future.

The painter in the past was an elegant layman, and he did not change much after he got married and had children.

But now, he has really changed a lot. Not only does he not support himself, but he is persuading her to leave, the farther she goes, the better.

Maybe it was Lin'an who changed him, or maybe it was the monster who changed him.

Bai Susu picked up the teacup and took a sip of the tea, the bitter taste made her frown.

Even the taste of the tea has changed...

Obviously the tea set used is getting better and better, and the tea leaves used are also first-class, but I can't taste the taste of the past, and I can't taste the freshness of the past.

Is it because the way of making tea has also become worse?

Shop lobby.

Shirataki leaned his umbrella against the wall and walked between the bookshelves.

The layout of this shop is very ordinary, and he took out a book at random, which was not written in popular strange novels, but some relatively obscure ancient books.

In Lin’an at this period, around the eleventh century, cultural knowledge still did not belong to the general public, and the illiteracy rate was still high.

There are quite a few printed novels as a pastime, but some knowledge books with real connotations are precious items, and it is difficult to find them in bookstores.

Shirataki twitched casually, and it was the water injection scriptures, and another twitch, various schools of thought... This is a lucky draw, it's a waste of talent not to be a duelist.

"There's something." Bai Taki rubbed his chin, he suddenly thought, if he bought some ancient books and brought them back, told Qin Yao, charged a symbolic travel fee, and sold the books to the government, would it be possible for him? Contributed by the country?

After all, with thousands of years of history, there are too many lost historical books and cultural relics.

but……

It's hard to imagine that there are so many ancient books in a shop that makes human skin into painted skin, it's really exquisite.

"Is the customer here to buy books?" the painter approached and asked.

"No, I'm here to buy and win." Bai Taki said flatly, "All bet on the golden boat!"

"?" The painter didn't understand, and thought it was just a joke: "There are golden houses and golden boats in the book, but the books in the store are not cheap. If you just buy them back as decorations or to enrich the bookshelf, you should go to the miscellaneous bookstore. It’s better to buy, after all, books are for reading.”

Shirataki was funny: "Isn't it good to have a bookshelf and put some game consoles, figurines or models? Who puts the books? Do you think I'm the Long Ming of Mo De Culture? Can't I read the books when I buy them?"

The painter casually opened a book: "Could you please read it?"

Bai Taki said disdainfully: "Just read it, you really think I'm Zhang Yu? I can't read it, so I ate this book on the spot..."

Just looking down, Tianmo's confident smile gradually faded.

... Grass, don't know a single word!

He forgot that the characters used in ancient times are obviously different from the characters used in modern times. Chong people have their own switching between traditional and simplified styles, but there is no switching between ancient and modern styles.

He closed the book, showing a polite yet awkward smile: "Excuse me... can I have some chili sauce or oil, salt, sauce and vinegar? I think it's not hygienic to eat this book raw, and it doesn't respect it enough. It’s more suitable to eat when grilled and dipped in sauce…”

The painter said flatly: "No need, eating it is a disrespect to it."

"Actually, I don't buy books." Shirataki showed his cards, "I just read casually."

"The paintings are all around, and you can buy them at will," said the painter.

Shirataki nodded, walked to a wall, pointed to the scroll on the wall: "These are not bad."

"...This painting is not for sale." The painter glanced at it and shook his head.

"What about this one?" Shirataki pointed to another one.

"It's not for sale either, it's reserved."

"If you don't sell it, you still hang it up? This is not Conan."

The painter took off the painting: "It's just hanging on the wall to dry, and the guests can take a look at the others."

Shirataki raised his hand again, pointing to the third painting.

This time the painter was about to speak, but was interrupted by Shirataki.

"It's still not for sale, right?" Shirataki lowered his fingers.

The painter was silent, shook his head and said, "Some paintings cannot be sold."

"Why can't it be sold?" Bai Taki touched his chin: "The pictures of beauties in this scroll are quite beautiful."

"That's why I can't sell them. I don't sell portrait paintings, only landscape paintings and landscape paintings."

"So, why?"