Chapter 192 Philosophy, Poetry and the Art of Back Kneading with Essential Oils
Wang Zixu lifted the curtain with his fingers.
The woman was covered with a light yellow towel, with her collarbone exposed. She was lying on the bed in a position that was more comfortable than lying on the Taihang Mountains on the North China Plain.
As Wang Zixu expected, she was wearing an eyepatch. Otherwise, he wouldn't dare to open the curtain and peek.
At present, he has not reached the point where he is destined to die. He has not reached the Wujiang River and committed suicide. He is still in the stage of being surrounded by others and there is still room for self-rescue.
“Move quickly.” An Younan urged.
The mountains are about to move. If Wang Zixu doesn't do something anymore, she will do something.
Wang Zixu gritted his teeth, opened the curtain and walked into the room.
At this time, he had just come into contact with An Younan, and the relationship was not deep, and he did not yet know the other person's character. If it were Wang Zixu in the future, he would definitely escape through the door at any cost. But at this moment, he thought to himself, isn't it just a matter of pressing the air conditioner for three seconds?
It is very simple to press the air conditioner. You only need to tap it lightly with your fingers, and you don’t even need to speak. The “beep” sound of the air conditioner will help you explain everything. But Wang Zixu doesn't know yet. He still doesn't know what a troublesome woman An Younan is.
In business, she is good at simplifying all complicated things and cutting through the mess quickly; but in life, she compensatoryally complicates all problems. Ostensibly it's just a push of the air conditioning button, but in the process she keeps making new demands, and eventually you find you have to climb the Himalayas to solve her problems.
But Wang Zixu didn’t know it at the time.
Wang Zixu walked quickly to the room, and just as An Younan said, he lowered the wind speed by one level. After the "beep" sound, An Younan spoke again:
"You set the humidifier to tidal mode, and change the aromatherapy to the new one I made, which is in my bag, in a blue bottle. Then raise my bed by 30 degrees... no, 20 degrees. Change the music player to a different playlist, What is this babbling song about? Use some white noise to help you sleep. By the way, ventilate for 10 minutes before changing the aromatherapy." After listening to this, Wang Zixu's head was buzzing.
"Hurry," An Younan urged, "This aromatherapy cannot be used in low wind mode, change it quickly."
Wang Zixu had no idea that air conditioning and aromatherapy could be coordinated with such a connected thinking. When Sartre lifted the curtain on the other side and walked in with his hands behind his back, Wang Zixu realized that he could no longer stay here.
"Social death is a good term, and it has some similarities with my theoretical direction." Sartre held his pipe in his mouth and put his hands behind his back. "Unfortunately, I am already dead, physically. A dead body cannot study any propositions."
What time has it been, and I am still making sarcastic remarks. The prince looked at it in vain and made a silent protest: If you are dead, don't chatter here. You don't even have the greatest advantage of the dead - silence.
Sartre shrugged and walked to the other side with his hands behind his back. The smile on his face looked like he was gloating:
"I suggest you not to let her wait. If she gets angry and takes off her blindfold, she will see you as an uninvited guest - there is an idiom, right? 'uninvited guest'."
You are the uninvited guest.
"According to my experience, a person who listens to sleep-aiding white noise and lies in the most comfortable position on the bed will not get out of bed easily. So I suggest you help her adjust the angle of the bed first. Once the eldest lady is comfortable, it will be easy to open the door and go out any way you want."
Sartre finally gave a useful suggestion. Wang Zixu lay down, held the rotating rod under the massage bed, and rocked the bed up a little.
“Shake it higher... Stop, shake it back... You shook it too much! Tsk... OK, let’s do it.” An Younan was feeling the height while giving orders 10 centimeters away from Wang Zixu’s head.
If she knew there was a man so close to her, she would jump three feet high like a cat.
When he got up from the ground, Wang Zixu was already sweating profusely. For such a simple thing, he is physically more thrilling than Rambo in First Blood, and may only be worse than those stunts done by Jackie Chan.
Sartre reminded him kindly: "Aromatherapy?"
Wang Zixu squatted down and turned over the leather bag on the ground. A volume of documents fell naturally, and the cover said:
"Wen'ai Acquisition Plan (Consultation Draft)"
"Oh." Sartre leaned down and stared at the contents of the bag, "Unexpected harvest!"
I don’t know why, but Wang Zixu was not surprised at this time. We can hear some clues from the conversation between An and Ning just now.
If Xunyi’s purpose is indeed what An Younan said, then their optimal solution is obviously not to acquire Qingyan, but to acquire Wenai. The only thing Wang Zixu was curious about was whether they had talked to Wen Ai.
If they had negotiated with Wen Ai, why didn’t he know? Is Zuo Ziliang involved? Does Ye Lan know? Or is it that he is the only one among the three who is kept in the dark?
If you want to know these answers, you only need to take out the plan, read the content, and see if there are any participation records of Zuo Ziliang and Ye Lan. But not now. Now An Younan is still waiting for him to get the aromatherapy.
Wang Zixu calmly took the blue aromatherapy out of the bag and placed it on the table nearby. He doesn't know how to use it, so he just fiddles around and makes noises like he's doing something. Anyway, the temperature of the steam eye mask seemed to be sufficient, and An Younan showed no signs of opening it.
An Younan said: "Forget it, let's not do anything else for now. You can help me do an essential oil shoulder and neck massage first. I'm exhausted today. That woman is just a love brain."
Speaking of the Ning Chun Banquet, An Younan sounded quite dissatisfied: "You can't imagine how tiring it is to communicate with the love brain, always making someone seem to covet her little prince. Are you kidding me like this with a business of more than 10 million?
“It’s ridiculous to say, a multi-million contract. If you let it out, not to mention helping to push the contact information, even if you give me your boyfriend, tens of thousands of people are willing to give it to me, and I will break it for you.
“You said it would be okay if the little prince is her boyfriend. It turns out it’s nothing, I’ve never even met him! What a waste of my feelings! I took the risk, okay? If the little prince dies in the face of the light and turns out to be a greasy, bald man in his forties or fifties, with nose hairs sticking out of his nostrils like agave, then should I sign this or not? So the love brain is really scary. Xun Yi Lai has to bear the consequences of online dating for her. ”
An Younan's words made Wang Zixu feel guilty. He stretched out his hand and touched his nostrils. The hairs on his nose stayed inside and did not grow into the shape of an agave.
Although I can’t add money to my appearance, it shouldn’t evaporate Xunyi’s market value, right?
Realizing that the person behind him was standing in a daze, An Younan turned his head: "Auntie, don't be stunned, press quickly, do you hear me?"
Wang Zixu and Sartre looked at each other, then turned to look at An Younan's exposed shoulders and neck, her skin was as white as fat, and her collarbones were so cute and thin.
Sartre said: "What do you know about massage?"
“You know a little more about riding a bicycle than a monkfish.”
“Silly boy, run away,” Sartre said. “If you get started, your sentencing will take a major leap forward.”
After An Younan said this, he suddenly fell silent and his expression became solemn.
She was thinking about something just now and didn't notice it, but now she noticed it - since her aunt came in later, she hadn't said a single word.
Wang Zixu also felt the changes in her mood, and the muscles in her back became stiff. Time passed very slowly in the room, and the wheezing sound of the humidifier was extremely harsh.
He walked to the dressing table aside and looked for essential oil bottles among the 10,000 bottles on the table. They were all in English, French, and Greek and could not understand them at all. He was just making "ding-dong-dang-dang" sounds, trying to prove to An Younan that he was doing something.
But now that the seeds of doubt have been planted, An Younan's uneasiness is rising sharply. There is only one opportunity left before she takes off the blindfold.
Sartre puffed his pipe fiercely: "What should we do now?"
"You didn't come up with the idea? If you had left in the first place, even if you were discovered, the sentence would be much lighter."
At some point, the little prince in a windbreaker sat on the casual sofa next to him and drank tea, his face hidden under the spacious brim of his hat.
"The current situation, in Chinese terms, is a dying struggle, right? Or is it a trapped beast still fighting? - These two words seem to have the same meaning."
The little prince said: "I think this is called "burning the cauldron and sinking the boat." ”
“Anyway, the fish that are caught ashore still have to jump twice because they think the oxygen is not consumed fast enough. ”
“Don’t say sarcastic words at this time. ”
"There seems to be no other way to not say sarcastic words. Now it is - there is no way."
"No, my dear friend, my closest comrade-in-arms," the little prince said in a leisurely tone , "You are a writer, but you always forget to use the writer's most powerful weapon to solve problems."
"The writer's most powerful weapon? The pen? Do you mean to stab her to death with the pen?" Sartre asked.
The little prince stretched out his index finger and tapped his temple: "Imagination, my friend, the most powerful weapon of a writer should be imagination.
"Human beings without wings can go to the sky and enter the sea because of the existence of imagination. Imagination is the starting point of all problems, and imagination is the beginning of all solutions. As long as the imagination is powerful enough, there should be nothing in this world that can defeat you. In other words, all troubles come from insufficient imagination."
Sartre opened his mouth: "If your statement is correct, then I Our friend Wang Zixu clearly has Nobel Prize-level vision and imagination, so why does he face so many problems one after another? ”
“Because,” the little prince said. Said, "He still lacks a little courage."
In the unbearable silence, An Younan finally spoke: "Pass over my mobile phone."
The command is very simple, with no redundant modifiers, neither "please" nor "help". Didn't say "aunt" either.
After noticing that Wang Zixu had made no move, An Younan raised his wrist and reached for the blindfold with lightning speed. Just a second before he opened the blindfold, he was caught by a big, generous and gentle hand.
“I’m sorry, miss, if you play with your mobile phone during sleep assistance, the magnetic field formed with great difficulty will be sucked away, which will affect your mental energy.”
“Huh?!”
Hearing a man’s voice from behind, An Younan almost jumped up like a cat in fright.
Wang Zixu suppressed his voice extremely low, and the bubbles sounded grainy and explosive, ensuring that An Younan could not recognize that it was him. Sure enough, she didn't recognize it was him. "
"Who are you? ! How did you get in? ! Where is aunt? ! ”
“Job number 1008, Chief Diamond Technician. Because you need help, I'm here. "
"Huh? ? "
Wang Zixu picked up the towel on the radiator and covered An Younan's exposed shoulders and arms without any explanation. On the one hand, he avoided direct contact with her skin, and on the other hand, he blocked her hand from reaching out to lift the blindfold.
"Do you read poetry? ”
"Ah?"
"Poetry, wet clothes - poetry, do you like reading it?"
"Ah?"
"I especially like reading poetry, such as the poem of the Syrian poet Adonis - 'You may rise, chase the stars on your body in the sky, in order to chase me in The stars on the woman's body are about to fall. The woman wants to come to me in the form of an abyss and reach my peak...' Now, please relax your body and sink like an abyss, so that you can get the best experience. ""Huh? Are you sure you are reading a serious poem? ..."
An Younan's tone was urgent, her body was "sinking like an abyss", her whole body was tense, and she was in a first-level combat readiness posture. Unfortunately, her arms were tied with towels and she couldn't move. Then she felt a pair of strong hands pinch her shoulders, just touching her tendons, and there was a "buzz" sound from her neck upwards. She couldn't help but let out a soft hum, and her body softened.
The hand slowly rubbed through the towel. The cotton fabric of the towel was prickly, itchy, and quite comfortable.
An Younan had never seen a male technician here, but after rubbing it, she began to doubt again. Could it really be a technician with job number 1008? That's too ridiculous. When did you agree to let a man in?
"'I love, I live, I give orders to the stars, I wait for the anchorage, I let myself ascend the throne, and be the king of the wind.' Madam, you are not relaxed enough, you must be like carving your name into the chest of the wind, be happy and gentle, melt into the experience, do not get lost in the time you waste, freeze the moment, and use the best attitude to welcome the new life of every day."
An Younan couldn't help but ask: "Which poem are you reciting? It sounds okay."
"Adonis, madam, Adonis. However, I didn't read all the poems just now, part of it was my own reflection."
Wang Zixu changed his technique and increased the strength, and An Younan couldn't help but make another sound.
"Your technique is so strange, it feels different from what I have done before."
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"No, it's okay. What did you do before? Why haven't I seen you?"
"I joined last month, and I used to work elsewhere. Work related to massage. ”
“What kind of job?”
“Huh?”
“Kneading dough is very similar to massage.”
"Yes, really..." An Younan had the urge to lift the blindfold again. If her arm hadn't been numb, she would have lifted it now.
“Have you ever eaten hand-made noodles? Have you ever eaten machine-kneaded noodles?”
“Eat….”
“Two kinds The taste of noodles is so different, right? Handmade noodles are actually more delicious. They also crave the touch of warmth and the weight of the body. ”
"Massage is the same," Wang Zixu said. "Massage actually means finding the right position and applying the weight of your body to another body. In this process, a kind of energy, a kind of life force energy, is transferred. It is a very mysterious process."
"Huh..." An Younan has never thought of this statement. But she felt there was something wrong with this statement.
An Younan said: "Actually, I have never had a male technician press it. You just scared me."
"Sorry."
"It's okay, I made a mistake," An Younan said, and couldn't help but added, "But you should tell me in advance next time, so as not to make it so embarrassing again."
"Okay. Shall I ask my colleagues to serve you now?"
"Forget it, I pressed them all," An Younan circled his fingers in a circle on his shoulders, "It just hurts when I rub it with the towel, please apply some essential oil."
Wang Zixu took two steps back and said: "Okay, please wait a moment. In fact, I am used to using my habit. The essential oil was used, but I didn’t find it just now. "
He took out the "Plan" from An Younan's bag without making a sound, and continued to chat with An Younan: "Do you read philosophy?"
"You're a dough kneader and you still read Hegel?" An Younan asked.
“I only read philosophy with low academic qualifications. I can’t understand physics and mathematics, so I can only read philosophy.” Wang Zixu’s hand quickly flipped through the booklet, “We are always making choices. We choose 4K TVs and integrated washing and drying smart phones. Choose an electric coupe that can turn around on the spot, choose a 360-degree fully rotating shaver
“Choose an electric dental rinser, choose a DJI drone, choose an APP co-branded body fat scale, and choose sugar-free and low-calorie weight loss meals.
“Choose a room in a school district, choose a friend with a similar family background, choose the most cost-effective boutique travel route, choose flights, choose the current savings package with the highest interest rate...”
Finally, Wang Zixu found the small name "Zuo Ziliang" signed with a water-based pen at the bottom of the "Plan".
He closed the "Plan" and put it back where it belonged.
"We think that choosing these means choosing life. But I have no money. I can't choose what kind of life I enjoy. I can only choose to read philosophy. The pain caused by philosophy is always more suitable for my life than the torture caused by kneading dough and massage."
After saying that, he fiddled with the bottles on the dressing table: "No, my essential oil is not here, it is probably in the lobby. I have to go back and get it."
An Younan said: "Well, then you go. Go back quickly."
Her voice became extremely gentle.
Wang Zixu strode out of the door, with Sartre and the little prince following behind him. When he walked to the door, he suddenly received an inspiration, raised the door handle, and walked out easily. The cold air outside the door hit my face. He went out with Sartre and the little prince, and locked An Younan inside.
He walked quickly away, getting faster and faster, and finally started running. Not long after, he met Ning Chunyan.
When Ning Chunyan saw him, he walked over quickly and complained: "Where have you been? I'm looking for you everywhere."
"Go to the toilet." The prince said concisely, "Should we go?"
"It's time to go."
"Let's go then."
In the sightseeing elevator, Wang Zixu suddenly turned around and asked: "You said that their gathering of talented ladies is mainly about reading poetry?"
"Yes. This salon is actually a poetry meeting."
"It's good to read poetry, it's good to read poetry," Wang Zixu said with a serious expression, his back dripping with sweat, "Choosing to read poetry is a wonderful life."
"Ah? What are you talking about?"
"What I want to say is, life is so beautiful." Wang Zixu said.
(End of this chapter)