Look good

The next day, Wen Changrong came on time with his people.

"Mr. Wen." Qiao Xing stepped forward to greet him.

"En." Wen Changrong nodded, and introduced the young man beside him, "Qi Da."

"Hello." The young man named Qi Da has a gorgeous appearance. The word gorgeous may not be suitable for men, but Qiao Xing really can't find any other words to describe it.

Anyway...it is the kind of eye-catching appearance that can be seen at a glance when walking in the crowd, beautiful and aggressive.

"Hello." Qiao Xing smiled and nodded, turning sideways to lead the way for the two, "Come in and have a look."

……

Both Wen Qi and Wen Qi were quite intimate, and Wen Changrong's hands never left the young man's waist.

Needless to say, Qi Da must be Wen Changrong's baby during this time.

Qiao Xing observed his words and decided to start introducing the most expensive ones.

"Is there a type Xiaoqi wants to sing?" Qiao Xing asked: "I hear that your voice is good, clear and distinctive, and you must sing well. We can tailor a song for you that suits your voice and style."

It's bullshit to say that the voice is good so the singing is also good.

As we all know, a person with a good voice does not necessarily sing well.

After all, singing requires skill, not speaking.

But it doesn't matter, there is nothing in the world that a million tuners can't handle.

As for the on-site rollover, it had nothing to do with Qiao Xing.

Qi Da asked, "How long does it take to make a tailor-made product?"

Very good, I don't care about the price at all, as expected of someone with Wen Changrong's backing.

"It's hard to say." Qiao Xing asked, "Are you in a hurry?"

"Well... I'm a little anxious, how long will it take in the shortest time?"

Qiao Xing pondered for a while. "It will take two to three months at the shortest."

Although he intends to take advantage of him, the price is not cheap after all, and Wen Changrong brought him here. The work is too poor and Qiao Xing is too embarrassed to take it out. Two months is the shortest production time.

"It's too slow." Qi Da said, "Let me take a look at the lyrics and music that have been prepared."

"Okay." Qiao Xing had no objection.

The most expensive ones cannot be pushed out, but he can still sell particularly expensive ones.

"I want to compose a song with a simpler composition," Qi Da said, "I didn't study vocal music. I just sang incidentally. I can't sing songs that are too technical."

Qi Da is different from those little fresh meats who want to eat all-rounders in one bite, and has an accurate understanding of himself.

Qiao Xing thought about it, and took the two of them to an expensive place.

Generally expensive, that is, some songs that are not difficult to sing, have catchy melodies but are not too vulgar, and the lyrics are all about love, which is very suitable for newcomers like Qi Da.

"Look at this one..." Qiao Xing pulled out a score from it.

It's a pity that he recommended three or four songs in a row, but Qi Da was not very satisfied.

When asked what he was dissatisfied with, Qi Da couldn't explain clearly.

Qi Da is a complete layman when it comes to music, so there is no reason for it to be seen in the scores, and the lyrics, the lyrics of several songs are actually similar.

Qiao Xing really didn't know why the little canary, his patron, was dissatisfied.

He accompanied the two of them around the floor where the scores were placed for two full laps, but Qi Da still couldn't choose a suitable song.

"How about... let's make it tailor-made?"

"Too slow." Qi Da still shook his head.

"Then...you let the agent pick it?" Qiao Xing's implication: You don't know music anyway, so find someone who does.

"No, I want to choose by myself, otherwise I wouldn't be here with Mr. Wen specially today."

"...Okay." Qiao Xing pointed to the music scores lying neatly on the opposite side of the bookcase: "There is an MP3 under these scores, which contains the corresponding 30-second accompaniment. You can listen to it freely."

After finishing speaking, Qiao Xing lied without changing his face: "I injured my foot some time ago, and I can't walk for too long. I'll go to rest for a while. You can call me when you choose the right one."

……

Qiao Xing slipped to the booth in the living room on the same floor, stretched a huge waist, and then put his legs on the table.

After walking around for two hours, he really felt sore in his legs.

He is a mental worker, not a manual worker.

After resting for a while and drinking another cup of hot coffee, Qiao Xing tilted his head and peeped through the crack of the door to see the two people in the hall still walking around.

To say that this novelty is really great, Wen Changrong who waited for him to complain about "why it took so long" in 2 minutes actually accompanied Qi Da to wander back and forth in the music library for almost three hours.

It's really... oh.

The clock in the room ticked dutifully, beckoning, beckoning, like regular hypnotic notes.

Qiao Xing leaned against the soft sofa back, feeling a little sleepy.

When he was about to close his eyes and was about to fall asleep, the familiar scent of men's perfume wafted in with the wind.

Qiao Xing suddenly fell asleep halfway, he raised his eyes, and saw Wen Changrong standing at the door without accident.

The man raised his brows slightly, looking down at him not far away.

"Sleeping so comfortably?"

"No, no, no..." Qiao Xing quickly put down his legs, and quickly greeted: "Sir, come in and sit down."

Without him saying anything, Wen Changrong went into the room and sat down.

Qiao Xing shook his head to wake himself up completely, and then walked to the side cabinet again, and took out the black tea pot and milk hidden at the bottom.

"Is it still the old rules, sir?"

"Ah."

Wen Changrong responded, and Qiao Xing took the things to the small table inside.

Wen Changrong has a preference that doesn't conform to his appearance - he likes to drink milk tea.

Of course, it's not the kind sold on the street, but it's brewed with tea and fresh milk.

In order to satisfy Wen Changrong's little hobby, Qiao Xing prepared a cooking machine at home, in the studio, and wherever it could be placed.

After all, to stand out from the 'Three Thousand Beauties', he had to work hard.

……

The white fresh milk began to churn in the milk pot, and Qiao Xing grabbed a small amount of tea and sprinkled it into the pot.

The tea leaves fell into the pot, and the beautiful red color soon swayed with the fragrance of the tea.

This black tea was recommended to Wen Changrong by his chef back then. It is specially used to brew milk tea quickly. The black tea pot is only as big as the palm of your hand, but the price is already tens of thousands of RMB.

Looking at the tea leaves tumbling in the milk pot, Qiao Xing seemed to see Fen Huahua's money tumbling.

When the heat was almost ready, Qiao Xing scooped out the milk foam and tea leaves, and poured the milk tea into a white porcelain cup.

Qiao Xing took a deep breath of hot air.

Hey.

As expected of the smell of money, it is really fragrant.

……

When the milk tea was put on the table, Wen Changrong picked up the cup and took a sip.

Qiao Xing hugged the tray and squatted by the table like a puppy, resting his chin on the edge of the table.

He slightly raised his head, watching the man's sexy Adam's apple rolling up and down.

As soon as the porcelain cup left his thin lips, he hurriedly asked, "Is it good?"

"...delicious." Facing such bright eyes, it was difficult to tell if it was not good.

Besides, it tastes really good.

Wen Changrong looked at him for a while, put down the cup, and said, "Come here."

"Oh!" Qiao Xing put down the tray, and walked from the other side of the table to Wen Changrong's place.

"What's the matter, sir?"

Without turning his head, Wen Changrong asked him, "Are you a waiter?"

Ok?

……oh!Qiao Xing understood.

He stepped forward two steps to the man, raised his leg and sat on the man's lap.

Wen Changrong is a bit arrogant sometimes.

Wanting you to go to East Africa does not mean that you want to go to the east, but that you want to go to the west to seek death.

At this moment, she wanted him to come over and give her a hug as she fulfilled her duties as a lover, but she didn't say anything, and wanted to tease him about whether he was the waiter who delivered the soup.

Qiao Xing knew the temper of his financial backer very well.

He sat firmly, and Wen Changrong was also satisfied.

The man relaxed his body and leaned back on the back of the chair.

Under Wen Changrong's white shirt were well-fitting muscles, which stretched slightly as his body relaxed at this moment. Through the gaps in the buttons of the shirt, one could vaguely glimpse the hidden strength underneath.

Qiao Xing couldn't help swallowing again.

Wen Changrong didn't notice his small movements, he just lazily stretched out his hand to put his waist on the pole, stroking his slightly concave back and lumbar spine with his palm.

After a while, the evaluation: "Fat."

……Pooh!

Qiao Xing suddenly recovered from the beauty.

And crazily complained in his heart: Wen Changrong, I think you are eighteen or nineteen years old who hugs a lot, and now the standard model who only hugs grown men is too fat!

"Not fat." Fortunately, Joe defended himself nicely, "I do fitness every day, standard weight, standard model figure, and six-pack abs..."

As he spoke, he lifted a corner of his shirt slightly, revealing a small piece of beautiful texture underneath.

"Touch it if you don't believe me."