Hu Fu Wu Bei Zhao Nianxia

10 minutes is fleeting.

"Well, it seems that Director Zhang is not lucky, we can only consume it ourselves."

Taking another look at the crowded street, Wu Bei waved his hand in greeting.

For tonight's dinner, Wu Bei specially purchased a large number of high-end ingredients at a high price, everything from Iberian ham to blue lobster, and even the bottom of the pot was specially boiled with saffron, but it still failed to hook the other party's taste buds.

"Hey, failure is the mother of success. I'll have a drink with you later."

Zhao Nianxia smiled.

Although Wu Bei was very calm, she could still feel the disappointment in the man's heart.

"Small problem, who to eat with is not to eat, walk, I will peel the shrimp for you."

Wu Bei squeezed out a smile.

In the next few days, Wu Bei ran to the vicinity of the museum when he had nothing to do, and "ran into" Director Zhang in various ways.

Director Zhang, whose real name is Zhang Heng, is 51 years old and has been in his position for many years.

The reason why he has not been promoted for a long time is because the relationship with the superior is very loose, and he is also his own wish.

As a post-[-]s, it was definitely rare to be able to graduate with a bachelor’s degree in that era, but it also created Zhang Heng’s indomitable character. In his opinion, nothing is better than those old objects that have been passed down for thousands of years. Accompanied by more cultural things.

Over the years, taking advantage of his position and his relatively generous income, Zhang Heng's collection is also increasing day by day.

But recently, Lao Zhang was very melancholy.

Ever since he saw a calligraphy from the late Ming and early Qing at a friend of a friend's, his appetite has been whetted. However, the other party is also an avid collector of cultural relics, and he is not short of money. The first time I went to the door, I couldn't get what I wanted.

This morning, Zhang Heng walked to work as usual, and as soon as he walked out of the gate of his own community, he ran into Wu Bei head-on.

"Let's go out, Brother Zhang?"

Wu Bei, who was dressed in short-sleeved shorts, greeted with a smile.

"Mr. Wu, running in the morning is a good habit, but the air around my house doesn't seem to be that good?"

Facing the attentive Wu Bei, Zhang Heng frowned instinctively.

Since last week, he has always met each other on various occasions. Whether he responds or not, Wu Bei will persevere in communicating with him.

Although it was disgusting, I had to admire the strength of the young man who looked like a dog's skin plaster in front of me.

"Exercising is for physical and mental pleasure. If I can meet Brother Zhang, my goal has been achieved."

Wu Bei and Zhang Heng walked side by side, smiling flatteringly.

"Brother, let me tell you something from the bottom of my heart. I understand what you mean, but this is impossible. Even if you live across from my house, it is absolutely impossible. I believe you should have found out the reason these days. Don't You're wasting my tongue."

Zhang Heng said with a sigh of relief.

"I have no purpose, really."

Wu Bei grabbed the towel hanging around his neck, casually wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, and said with a smile, "Brother Zhang, is he going to work? It happens that my car is parked near the museum, let's go together."

Zhang Heng shook his head dumbfounded.

"Jingle Bell.."

At this moment, Wu Bei's cell phone rang suddenly.

"What is it?"

He glanced at the number, stopped, and directly pressed the hands-free button.

Seeing that Wu Bei didn't keep up, Zhang Heng immediately increased his speed, trying to get rid of him.

"Brother Wu, doesn't our old man really like Wang Fushu's Danqing Mobao? I just found a copy of the authentic painting from a friend..."

Jia Xiao's voice sounded on the phone.

When he heard the words "Wang Fushu", Zhang Heng, who had already walked a few steps away, turned around subconsciously and pricked up his ears.

Coincidentally, the calligraphy he has been thinking about recently is also from this person.

"You can make your own decisions about such small things. I'm running."

Wu Beihu hung up impatiently, and then chased Zhang Heng excitedly: "Brother Zhang, your small steps are quite nimble, hehe."

"I walk all year round."

Zhang Heng responded.

Normally, he would have completely ignored Wu Bei's nonsense, but at this moment, he felt a strange feeling of loving Wu Bei and Wu Bei inexplicably.

"Indeed, I think your physical fitness is also quite good, let's go, Brother Zhang."

Wu Bei's chicken nodded wildly like pecking rice.

The total journey from home to work was only about 10 minutes. When he saw Wu Bei waving goodbye, Zhang Heng suppressed the curiosity in his heart and said for the first time to be safe.

It wasn't until he watched Wu Bei drive away that Zhang Heng let out a long breath, but inside he felt as unbearable as if he was being scratched by a kitten.

Throughout the morning, Zhang Heng was a little absent-minded, and kept circling the words "Wang Fu's Calligraphy and Calligraphy" in his mind.

Taking advantage of lunch time, he accidentally dialed the phone number of the friend who owns the collection of Wang Fu's books: "Old Duan, I will add another [-] to the price we said before, and you will fulfill my wish."

"I'm sorry, Curator Zhang, a friend bought that pair of calligraphy, and the price given is very beautiful! Don't call me again in the future."

As a result, the other party's words instantly made him feel what it meant to be a bolt from the blue.

"Buy..Buy it away? Old Duan, what do you mean? I begged you for so many days, but you still refused to give up. Why now..."

Zhang Heng was taken aback for a moment, his mind was blank for an instant, and he didn't even know when the other party hung up the phone.

And Wang Fu's book, which he admired so much, is not a well-known master in itself, and there are very few authentic works in the world. The next time I want to encounter it, I will not know the year of the monkey.

"Wu Bei also seems to have a painting of Wang Fu's calligraphy."

After a long silence, Zhang Heng finally regained his composure. He picked up the phone reflexively, only to find that he didn't save the other party's contact information at all. Of course, it didn't take him much effort to find the other party, but he felt a little embarrassing.

In the next few days, the idiot Zhang Heng was as mindless as a walking dead, and the most helpless thing was that Wu Bei, who had always been pervasive, disappeared as if he had evaporated...