C18

When Cheng Xirong opened the door hesitantly, he found that he was overthinking it. There were only a few sets of clothes. This was not called a wardrobe, at most, it was just a shelf for clothes …

With his back facing Fu Zhou, Cheng Xirong looked for his underwear and ridiculed, "Your decorating style is really from the same origin. There is no furniture in the house and no clothes in the closet. "

Cheng Xirong spent thirty seconds in the morning wandering around his house without being able to get a good look at it the night before. He could only sigh at the desolation. In those twelve hours, everything he touched was the entirety of this apartment …

Fu Zhou lit up a cigarette and walked towards the balcony. "We'll deal with it when we have enough money."

Cheng Xirong was stunned and didn't quite understand this feeling. Then he thought that since he was poor, it would be better for him to have a room and a car. He avoided a puff of smoke and pulled on a black sleeveless T-shirt.

Money was a huge problem.

When he first went to change his will, he never would have thought that he would be among those who would inherit his property. He didn't hesitate to kick Feng Yi's name out of the will. Unfortunately, he didn't leave any funds that could now operate.

At the time, all he thought about was how his parents would settle down and ensure a safe and prosperous life for the rest of their lives. If he were to earn money in this industry, he would have to pay a price for it as well. As well as the book in his hand, he had chosen it meticulously and could not let it go to waste.

If he had an accident, he would definitely hand over the books that he had not prepared for the shoot. As for who to give it to, aside from Feng Yi, he didn't have a clear target. But it must be someone who has the ability to shoot them.

One of the criteria for having the ability was to have money.

Never thought that...

The studio definitely could not do it empty-handed. Even if it was a new person, to be able to reduce the investment from the earlier stages to a minimum, the amount of money needed for the filming was not small — at least for Pann Nanxing, who only had a few thousand yuan in his card, it was an astronomical figure.

At the moment, he still had to raise the money first.

On the way back to school, Cheng Xirong chatted with Fu Zhou, "What do you think?"

Fu Zhou was confused for a moment: "What idea?"

Cheng Xirong paused for a second and asked, "If I didn't look for you, would you be shooting that detective script next?"

"Nope." The script needed to be changed, but it was actually rewritten. All preparations will have to be reversed and repeated. " Fu Zhou pointed at the steering wheel, "I originally wanted to make my own studio."

"What a coincidence. But you have to adjust. With our current resources, TV shows are better than movies. "

Fu Zhou rejected without hesitation, "I want to make a movie."

Cheng Xirong retorted, "Alright, you like to make movies. The film has been made. Can you pass the trial? Can you promise me that? The box office? How much money do we have to lose? "

Fu Zhou went silent, the atmosphere was heavy.

If it was the old Cheng Xirong, he would love movies and performances, and would be able to keep up with his ideals. Cheng Xirong would definitely support him. However, the reality was that he had been forced into a desperate situation. There was no way out, nor was there a choice.

Must succeed. The definition of success is that the pressure is greater than that of Wuhan and Zhou Sheng. His original intentions and goals had changed. He could no longer be as naive as he was before. This was bound to lose the pleasure of acting. But there was nothing to sigh about. The path was chosen by Cheng Xirong. He decided to continue on like this and wouldn't pity himself.

But...

It was too much to let a young man of vigorous hope endure the same thing.

Cheng Xirong looked out of the window and said in a low voice, "But I promise, this is temporary."

Fu Zhou turned around and glanced at him: "Hm?"

"At most three years, I'll definitely let you make a movie."

The roads after the morning rush hour were not too crowded. Someone on the radio chose an old love song, the clear and melodious male voice recounted the sadness in his heart. If placed in the real world, it would be the same as betraying someone.

Cheng Xirong reached out his hand and turned off the broadcast.

Fu Zhou reopened: "What?"

"So noisy."

Fu Zhou turned down the volume, "Are you neurotic?"

Cheng Xirong casually replied with an "En". He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest, with a "don't talk to me if I'm weak" look on his face. Fu Zhou acted as if he did not notice, and asked: "Are you in bad health? What's that scar on your chest? I got a shock when I went to the bathroom to pick you up yesterday. "

Cheng Xirong felt a bit uncomfortable when he thought that he had seen his own body naked. After all, a week ago, he still had smooth muscles. In the blink of an eye, he had turned into a skinny and pale little chicken … The difference was too great.

Especially after seeing Fu Zhou's standard eight pieces of abs in the morning. As a man, he was a little unhappy.

Cheng Xirong had his eyes closed, his voice humming through his nose, "If you let me walk in the bathroom, I would be even more grateful to you."

"Are you shy? I'm just drying you, that's all. Nothing. Don't think too much about it, I don't like your type. " Fu Zhou was afraid that he did not understand, so he added, "I like those like Cheng Xirong, be a little stronger."

Cheng Xirong just kept quiet and didn't want to talk to him.

As they drove to the side door of the school, Fu Zhou stopped by the side of the road to buy fried fruit and soy milk. Cheng Xirong walked in front. He took a bite, chewed his cheek and asked, "Aren't you hungry?"

That cup of milk in the morning was enough for Cheng Xirong. This wasn't a good thing. Cheng Xirong wanted to return to his previous body and his nutritional intake would first fall short of the standard. I still have to hire a coach. He had been beaten by the coach before, and had only been able to stay at home after his muscles had been molded.

Cheng Xirong turned around and replied, "No," then casually pushed open the bedroom door. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor came from inside, giving people an inexplicable feeling of alertness. Cheng Xirong's hand paused for a second and he turned around.

They were old friends. The rarely seen pair of beds stood in the open and looked back. There was no one else.

But... The way he looked at Ye Zichen made Cheng Xirong care a little. He picked up his backpack and held it in his hand. His footsteps paused as he looked at his roommate from a distance. "You're back?"

Ye Zichen's roommate replied, then lowered her head and continued to play with her phone.

Cheng Xirong left a trace of suspicion as he went to the closet and took out some clothes to change. Fu Zhou sat in his chair and continued eating, fiddling with the book on the table. Cheng Xirong took off his sleeveless T-shirt, rolled it up and threw it over. "Take it back to wash yourself — what's the matter with you today?"

Fu Zhou shook his head, his cheeks still bulging.

Cheng Xirong: "Contact Su Minglin again. I have some ideas and I want to communicate with him. "

When he changed his pants, Cheng Xirong turned his back to Fu Zhou and dodged for a while. He could now understand how a woman felt when she was in bad shape. It was really bad. He hurriedly put on his shorts before calming down and went to the cupboard to get his usual medicine.

The dormitory door was pushed open, and the sound of the door turning was heard. The sense of danger became even stronger. From the moment he stepped into the dorm, he had walked all the way to the highest point. Cheng Xirong turned around and saw a person walking in.

Feng Yi.