Brand Master [Comprehensive Yingmei]

Mrs. Wigner's nephew, Clark Kent, was a typical middle-state farmer.

With a simple and honest smile on his face, he was wearing the most common plaid shirt and jeans, the collar buttoned tightly, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses, which looked rustic.

Add to that his tall stature and his nasal Kansas accent, and it was Vera Dusin that he was driving a farm tractor.

After calling Mrs. Wigner to confirm, she turned her head speechlessly and sighed deeply.

Although both Mrs. Wigner and Clark Kent in front of her had good intentions, for Vera, she owed him a favor by letting this young man drive to pick her up.

Therefore, she would rather wait here for Mary than bother others.

However, Mary's transcript is estimated to be tossed until the evening. After weighing the balance between being accosted and owed favors for a few seconds, she nodded at Clark: "Sorry, I'm sorry to trouble you."

While speaking, Vera naturally... stretched out a hand towards the other party.

And it's the back of the hand facing up, not a handshake gesture.

Clark: ...

The smile on his face froze, and he didn't understand what Vera was going to do.

A handshake, or a... er, a hand kiss?

After waiting for dozens of seconds, seeing that Clark hadn't responded, Vera couldn't help but raised her face and looked at the man with a strange expression:

"Why don't you help me up?"

Clark, who was hesitating to rub his hands for a long time:?

After a long time, it was not a handshake or a hand kiss, but to help people up?

He looked dazed, and subconsciously stretched out his hand to hold Vera.

Taking advantage of this strength, Vera stood up in a slightly stiff posture. Before she stood still, her brows twitched slightly, her whole body froze, and she quickly returned to normal.

Of course, Clark didn't ignore the girl's sudden unnaturalness, he immediately reacted:

"This girl...couldn't it be a wound on the back?"

I was discharged from the hospital early, the stitches on my back were not removed, and I sat at the hospital gate for so long...

So... is it so painful that you can't stand up anymore?

My heart suddenly stabbed slightly.

When Vera stood still, instead of letting go of the girl's soft fingers, Clark clenched them a little more, and said worriedly:

"I'll help you over there, be careful."

Of course he had pure good intentions.

Unexpectedly, Vera glanced at him strangely, broke away from Clark's big rough palm without hesitation, and pulled her hand back.

Vera: "I don't need help."

Clark: "..."

Clark: "But, Miss Senna, you were so hurt that you couldn't stand up just now...?"

Vera didn't change her face: "Let's go back quickly, the sun is too hot, it's making you hallucinate."

As she said that, she walked towards the parking lot as if nothing had happened. She walked faster than Clark even though she was stepping on high heels, leaving only a ruthless back view of the man:

"Which one is your car?"

Clark:? ?

Clark was dumbfounded.

It wasn't until he hurriedly followed from behind that he realized that Vera's walking posture...was somewhat different from that of ordinary people.

Generally speaking, when a normal person walks, the cervical spine will be more or less tilted, and the neck will be slightly bent forward when viewed from the side.

But Vera was different, her back and neck remained straight.

When walking, the whole body seems to be hung above the head by a thread, with a rigorous and elegant demeanor, stepping on a ruler with every step, as if specially trained (no wonder the wound will be pulled when sitting in this posture)

But the question is, what kind of person would specialize in training this kind of thing?

When he first arrived in Washington, Clark didn’t have his own car—he always took the bus when he went out to find a job, but this time he drove Mrs. Wigner’s car.

Seeing the familiar car at a glance, Vera opened the door very naturally... got into the driver's seat of the car, and waved at Clark:

"Get in the car and give me the car keys."

……

Caught off guard, Clark was dumbfounded again.

Meow meow meow?Didn't he drive here to pick up patients?

What kind of patient would take over his car?

In fact, Vera didn't speak harsh words to him, or force him to hand over the car keys, she just said something so plainly.

Then Clark handed over the key.

In a trance, he retracted into the passenger seat and watched Vera start the car immediately after getting the keys. Clark seemed to be living in a dream, and it took him a long time to react.

His face was a little red, and after holding back for a long time, he said nana: "Miss Senna, you need to rest."

Vera didn't look back.

She turned the steering wheel, turned her head to look at the rearview mirror, and said casually:

"That's my line, Mr. Kent."

Before she could finish her sentence, she stepped on the clutch and made a cool drift with a bang.

Clark: ...

Clark, who was so big but wronged and nestled on the co-pilot, stared blankly at Vera's side face, looking a little silly.

This was one of Vera's bad habits.

Probably due to her own strong sense of domain and desire to control, she never gave the steering wheel to anyone except Mary.

To put it bluntly, Vera actually doesn't trust the driving skills of other drivers very much. No matter what the situation is, as long as she is sitting in the car, she must drive by herself.

As for Kent?

Hmm... Thanks again for the tool guy who got Mrs. Wigner's car over.

Mrs. Wigner's car was actually an ordinary car, but Vera insisted on driving the car out of the momentum of a sports car and rampaging on the avenue.

It took Clark more than 40 minutes to drive from Mrs. Wigner's house, and Vera drove instead. It took them less than half an hour to get home safely.

It's just that after parking the car, Clark, who got out of the car behind Vera, was inexplicably haggard...

Mrs. Wigner knew what was going on when she saw it.

The silver-haired old lady glanced at Vera helplessly and reproachfully. After the girl went upstairs, she approached Clark and asked sympathetically:

"Thank you for your hard work, have you been bullied by that little devil? Hey, look at your expression, God, my poor little boy!"

Clark, poor little Kent, who was bullied by the female devil Vera: ...

He stammered, trying to save his respect: "You misunderstood, there is nothing in fact—"

"You wait!"

Mrs. Wigner looked filled with righteous indignation, "I'll talk about Vera later. In fact, this girl is good at everything, but she doesn't know how to speak..."

He said it as if he was going to scold Vera, but in fact, he was explaining for Vera without any trace.

Of course Clark understood, and he laughed helplessly.

Before Mrs. Wigner babbled about explaining, he scratched his head and said seriously:

"But, I don't think Miss Senna is bullying me."

Mrs. Wigner was stunned, and asked one after another in surprise: "Really? Do you really think so?"

Clark nodded frankly.

"Also, I don't think Miss Senna has a bad temper."

He thought about it seriously, and when he thought of Vera sitting alone on the steps, reaching out to him and demanding that he help her up, instead of being angry at all, he was a little funny.

Clark hesitated: "If you really want to say that there is something wrong with Miss Senna... Uh, she should rest a little longer? Is that so? Mrs. Wigner? Mrs.?"

Mrs. Wigner took a deep look at Clark and remained silent for a long time.

After a while, she smiled gently, and said meaningfully: "...It's very kind of you to think so."

After all, the old lady patted Clark's arm: "Get along with her for a while, and soon you will find that the child is better than you imagined."

Clark: "..."

So what... or not.

Although he really doesn't hate Miss Senna, but if he continues to get along with such a weird girl... he will really lose ten years of his life.

Clearly, Clark's prayers didn't work.

In the evening, Vera finally tidied up the room, and when she came down from the third floor to have dinner, she happened to bump into Clark who was returning from weeding.

At this time, Vera had already taken off her formal suit and changed into a set of cotton bright yellow cartoon pajamas.

She squinted her eyes, looking tired from sleep, her short wheat-colored hair was hopeless, it was still curled up in a mess, and even a dull hair was raised directly in the middle of her bangs.

As soon as Clark opened the door, he saw Willa like this, sitting at the dining table, obediently gnawing on the boiled corn cobs.

Obviously it's just ordinary boiled corn, but Vera looks like it's delicious.

She spread a lot of whipped cream on the corn, and sprinkled a little seasoned thin salt, and her cheeks swelled up, with corn kernels and cream hanging from the corners of her mouth.

Looking at it, Clark suddenly felt hungry.

When he finally cleaned up the mud on his body and walked into the dining room, Vera had already quickly disposed of a whole corn. She wiped her mouth and called Clark:

"I heard from Mrs. Wigner that when you drove to the hospital in the afternoon, you missed a newspaper interview?"

"..."

Mrs. Wigner, why don't you tell this girl everything! !

Clark was a little stuffed, he shook his head: "Actually, it's not a big deal..."

After the internship at the "Daily Planet" ended, for some reason, Clark moved to Washington to find a job.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of introducers and work experience, his progress was very difficult and he hit walls one after another.

After all, a newspaper took a fancy to his resume. He had an appointment for an interview this afternoon, but he received a call from Mrs. Wigner, so he gave up the interview and drove to the hospital to pick up Vera.

Ask Clark to say, in fact, this is not a big deal.

After all, jobs can be found again, and it is impossible for a patient to stay alone in the hospital.

"Which newspaper is the interview?"

Willa didn't bother to listen to Clark's thoughts, she asked bluntly.

"...The Washington Herald."

Poor little Clark replied dryly.

"understood."

After getting the answer, Vera nodded, thoughtfully touched the phone, and said quickly:

"I have a friend who works as an editor at the Washington Herald. I'll help you write a letter of introduction. You take the letter of introduction and hand it over to that person. They will let you in for an internship..."

wait wait wait!

What letter of introduction?

Clark raised his head all of a sudden, his face full of astonishment: "...No letter of introduction is needed, Miss Senna, I don't have that need."

"...Yeah, I think the Washington Herald is shit, too."

Vera didn't seem to feel anything wrong at all, she nodded and asked Clark:

"Which newspaper do you like, then? The Federal Journal? The Washington Today? Or the Popular Post?"

Clark shook his head wildly: "No, no!"

"Then stop the newspaper."

Vera asked patiently: "What about magazines? Radio? Or TV stations? Which media do you like the most, and where do you want to intern? I'll help you write a letter of introduction."

To some extent, the advertising world and the press world still have a lot of intersections.

To put it modestly, with Vera's current network, Clark has no problem in which media he wants to intern.

Seeing that Clark was still in a daze and didn't respond, Vera frowned and asked:

"If you don't like it, or... would you consider an advertising agency?"

Clark: "..."

Poor little Clark was frightened.