Floating Perfume Shop

Yashe's headquarters is in Shanghai, but every year around his father's birthday, Zhang Wenshan would stay on Long Island in Nanyang for a period of time. At that time, Xiao Chongyun also came back from school during the Christmas holidays. facade.

He drank too much the night before, and Zhang Wenshan got up with a headache in the morning. He handled the company's affairs remotely, and then went downstairs to have breakfast.Xiao Chongyun has already woken up and is having breakfast downstairs.It was the age when the physical needs were strong, and the young man ate very simple. The chicken soup noodles cooked in the kitchen, sprinkled with a few chopped green onions, and there was no oily water. When he saw him coming down the stairs from a distance, he greeted him with a smile: "Brother, wake up!" gone?"

The scene at the banquet last night suddenly flashed through his mind, together with his own weakness and gaffe, Zhang Wenshan was stunned.He was the only one in the restaurant, and the servants had gone out, so there was no need for acting.He suddenly lost interest in eating, so he passed by coldly without saying a word.

After walking two steps, he finally turned around and replied, "I'm awake."

"Don't drink so much next time," Xiao Chongyun said, "It scared me."

Zhang Wenshan turned around and left.

Before he took two steps, something was thrown from behind and hit him on the shoulder.Subconsciously, he picked it up with his hand, and it was a small thick-bottomed glass bottle of essential oil, which looked no different from the ones bought outside.

"This year's latest work," Xiao Chongyun said with a smile behind him, "I tuned it last night, it's for the banquet, and here it is for you."

Zhang Wenshan still had something to do, so he put the bottle in his pocket and left without looking back.The car was parked at the gate, and Secretary Liao had been waiting by the car for a long time. He opened the door and whispered in his ear: "Young Master, Mr. Zhang wants to see you today."

When Zhang Wenshan got into the car and drove into Kuala Lumpur, he remembered the bottle of inferior essential oil, took it out, and unscrewed the cap.A strong and pungent smell of alcohol rushed out, he frowned and almost threw the bottle out.The phone rang just in time, and Xiao Chongyun sent a text message: "Dear brother, Christmas present."

"The next time I can't drink enough, just wipe some off, pretend to be drunk and go back upstairs, and let my father clean up the mess."

little tricks.

The driver was his confidant, and he drove extremely cautiously. He drove in circles in the streets and alleys, making sure that he was not being followed. After that, he arrived at a remote and uninhabited back street.There are no cameras on the back street, and few people come, and a black car that has not been photographed has been parked on the front street.Zhang Wenshan got out of the car and changed to a black car, where the driver had already come to greet him.

Without saying a word, the black car started.At the same time, Secretary Liao started the Bentley, and Zhang Wenshan's car re-entered the traffic, as if the owner was still sitting in the car.

In the deep house compound, only the fence and infrared surveillance are the latest.

The old man was shriveled, black and thin, just like many contracted Chinese laborers who had stayed in the tropics for a long time and climbed up step by step from the bottom to the top.Years and high temperature have ruined their appearance, and the cruel and bloody survival rules have taken away the softest part of their facial expressions. Therefore, when they sit on the Eight Immortal Chair in the main hall of the hall, they look like ghosts summoned from hell.

The housekeeper reported in: "Master Xiao Wenshan is back."

Zhang Wenshan walked all the way in front of the old man, bowed his head and called out: "Grandpa."

The old man leaned on the chair and stood up tremblingly: "Come, come, my grandson! Let me see you, let me see..."

If Zhang Wenshan's father, Xiao Li, and the Xiao family in his hands are a bloody giant crocodile in Nanyang, then Zhang Yijiao's Zhang family is the sleeping lion in Kuala Lumpur.Unlike Xiao Li, who is dedicated to whitewashing, Zhang Yijiao has been standing in the depths of the darkness, smuggling, drug trafficking, buying his life with money, and so many shady things, all intersect and form a web in the center of this spider web hidden deep in the city.Although Zhang Wenshan logically should call the old man in front of him Grandpa, but his father has forbidden him to have any contact with his mother's natal family since he was a child.

Hands as old as bark caressed the handsome and energetic face of the young man. That day Zhang Wenshan wore a thin black coat buttoned up to the top. He was indeed handsome and talented.The coldness on the old man's face faded a little, and he was almost happy: "You are exactly like your mother."

The next sentence was chilling: "Xiao Liao said you can't do it."

Zhang Wenshan stood with his hands down: "He is still a student, and sooner or later I will inherit the Xiao family. When the time comes, drive them out and give him a small perfume company, so that the mother and son can live and work in peace, without having to kill people."

When Zhang Wenshan said the first half of the sentence "Sooner or later I will inherit the Xiao family", the old man looked a little appreciative, but when he heard "settled and settled down", his veins suddenly exposed and he became furious!Wenwan threw a walnut on the ground, Zhang Yijiao pulled the crutch beside him, and hit Zhang Wenshan on the leg with one stick!

"waste!"

"madness!"

"Women's kindness!"

That blow was accurate and ruthless, unlike a frail old man, Zhang Wenshan frowned in pain and didn't say a word.The old man threw away his crutches and slumped back on the chair, his chest hissing like an old bellows.The anger in his eyes was not extinguished, and it showed through the frosty face.

"You know, the Zhang family doesn't keep waste. There is a piece of land behind this house, where all the descendants who are useless are buried."

The implication in the words was self-evident, and Zhang Wenshan didn't say a word as a chill crept up his spine.

The old man stared into his eyes, and sighed after a while: "Forget it, I'm just that one daughter. If you die, I'll be dead forever."

"follow me."

The Zhang family's house has been built for decades. It was the largest house in the surrounding area back then, and it is still the most luxurious and fortified building in the surrounding area.It has been renovated countless times, and there is no shortage of recreational facilities that keep pace with the times and leisure places for entertaining guests. However, the main building is still the same as it was 60 years ago.The wooden stairs leading to the upper floor creaked due to age, and dust accumulated on the handrails of the stairs. It is said that maids are rarely allowed to go upstairs on weekdays.

This is also the first time Zhang Wenshan has gone upstairs to the main house since recognizing his ancestors.

It was useless to have the second floor empty, so the old man took him directly upstairs to the third floor.There is a pot of bluegrass at the corner of the stairs, which seems to have been carefully taken care of.Next to the bluegrass, there is a calligraphy and painting, which says "I wish to be a lovebird in the sky", but there is no second half of the sentence.

The owner of the calligraphy has learned calligraphy, and the handwriting is extremely chic and beautiful, with a feminine elegance, so Zhang Wenshan stopped and took a longer look.

Zhang Yijiao walked in front and said without looking back, "Your mother wrote it when she was in her boudoir."

He added: "To your ungrateful, merciless father."

Zhang Yijiao was getting old, and he didn't let anyone help him, so it was quite difficult for him to walk.He took out an old key from his pocket, opened a small door on the third floor, and signaled Zhang Wenshan to go in.

It was a girl's room.

Pink sheets and mosquito nets, and a plastic rose from that era that has aged and faded is inserted on the white dresser.On the bookshelf by the window is a pocket copy of Dai Wangshu's poetry anthology, only the second volume, not the first volume, and next to it are a few outdated romantic novels.Next to the book is a frame without a photo. There used to be a photo, but it was taken away.The wooden floor was so shiny that someone must have come to clean it often. Since Zhang Yijiao did not let the maid go upstairs, he must have done it himself.

"This is your mother's room," the old man said hoarsely. "She was a talented woman back then. She could write well and loved reading poetry."

He walked to the window and pushed open the wooden window behind the white lace curtains, and there was a lush tree outside.

"When your father pursued her, he wrote poems to her every day under this window, and folded it into a paper airplane and flew in. I didn't know who that person was at the time, and I didn't catch him twice—if he was caught," the old man gritted his teeth. , "He died that year, what are you talking about returning to China, and what are you talking about inheriting the family?"

"A woman's marriage is not the order of her parents and the matchmaker's words? People nowadays have heard too much stupid talk from outsiders. What do you want to marry freely and fall in love freely? It's ridiculous," the withered and yellow hands clenched, and the veins on the back of the hands stood out, almost exploding. "If she had listened to me then and married a wealthy family..."

When Zhang Wenshan was very young, he heard stories about his mother.

Nanny, valet, gossip in the market—that his father, Xiao Li, has a crush on Miss Zhang's family.At that time, his father was an unremarkable illegitimate child of the Xiao family, with no status, and no one expected that he would inherit that huge family later.The mother was the only daughter and the only heir of the Zhang family. Seeing that she was about to marry someone else, she eloped with her father regardless of her status.

At that time, their relationship had some clues. In order to prevent accidents, Mr. Zhang "educated" his daughter with a cane, and threatened his daughter with a gun. He asked the maid to guard the bedroom door day and night, and could not go out until they got married.Mother jumped out of this window in the middle of the night and slid down the tree into the yard.

I don't know exactly how they escaped. Later, it was rumored that my mother suffered a lot with her father who had no money and no status, but was eventually abandoned.

The father returned to China to develop, and let his mother take care of his son while dragging her sick body in a low-rent house with leaks and wind on Nanyang Island.It wasn't until one day when his mother passed away that he remembered and sent someone to bring Zhang Wenshan over.

The mother's death had no effect on my father, because it didn't take long for him to pick up a beautiful and gentle new wife from China.Jinwu Zangjiao didn't say anything, but also brought the vixen with him, who gave birth to his son with the family name, defying all opinions and writing it on the genealogy.

Zhang Wenshan didn't know until a long time later that when he and his mother were struggling in low-cost housing in Long Island, his father was in China co-founding a business with a gentle and beautiful vixen, and they fell in love and embraced each other passionately.

It was not until the mother was dying that he came to her ward, looked down at the pale and sallow woman lying on the bed, and asked, "What do you want?"

Zhang Wenshan was too young at that time. Looking back now, most of the things are blank and vague fragments.The starting point of the memory is the father standing in front of the mother's hospital bed full of the smell of disinfectant, asking: "What do you want?"

His mother was talking, and he leaned over to listen, and the conversation continued for a while.The nurse took him out, and soon his father came out, bent down and asked, "What's your name?"

Zhang Wenshan couldn't remember his name, and he didn't know why his memory was blank, so he shook his head.

"Then let's call it Wenshan. You are comfortable with arts and sciences, and you have mountains in your heart," the man said, "Xiao Wenshan, I am your father."