Chapter 370

Lu Mian pulled over an armchair and sat down, smiling at Count Puifu:

"That would be my honor."

After speaking, he struck a pose as if to invite Miss Ailuo.

Count Puifu, wearing a red shirt, waved his hand:

"Wait until she finishes this movement."

Lu Mian took the opportunity to turn his head and glance at the piano, finally seeing Miss Ailuo's appearance clearly:

Her brownish-red eyebrows were smooth, her brownish eyes were bright, her cheeks were slightly puffed, and her facial contours were soft. She was a girl under twenty, and she didn't have too obvious traces of the Sauron family.

According to Puifu's introduction just now, Ailuo should belong to the Sauron family on her mother's side.

Lu Mian turned around, picked up a glass of red, white, and blue liqueur placed on the coffee table, and chatted with Count Puifu, the novelist Arnold, and others about recently popular topics and gossip within the circle.

During this time, he had been buying newspapers like "Novel Weekly," "Debate News," "Trier Youth," and the magazine "Ghost Face" to improve his "self-cultivation," all to deal with such occasions.

The black-haired lady who had been squatting next to Count Puifu just now had stood up and turned to another place to watch several newspaper editors play billiards.

Lu Mian knew that she was definitely not Count Puifu's wife, because Aurora once told him that in Trier, at such small salons and limited-scale balls, the host and hostess would not appear at the same time by convention. Otherwise, it would give guests the bad impression that they were showing off their affection in a low-class way, which would be unseemly if spread around. Therefore, when a host or hostess held a salon, their spouse would go to someone else's salon.

When he first heard about this, Lu Mian was not yet fifteen and just felt that Trier people had too many rules. Now looking back, he had only one thought:

You Trier people actually developed such absurd and ridiculous unwritten rules for the convenience of having affairs, and everyone is quite happy to follow them!

After a movement ended, Ailuo left the piano, walked to the sofa area, and under her cousin's introduction, met Lu Mian. She pulled over a high stool, sat down with her legs together, and listened quietly to everyone chatting.

As time passed, others gathered in this direction. Laurent came over behind a middle-aged man with a beautiful beard wearing casual formal wear.

"This is Cornell, editor-in-chief of 'The Little Trierite'." Count Puifu introduced him to Lu Mian.

Lu Mian had seen that newspaper; the advertisement for "Interstellar Bridge to the Red Moon" was published in it.

Recalling this advertisement now, besides feeling that it might be a scam or Trier people's performance art, he also suspected it involved believers of some evil god.

"This is Charles Dubois, General Manager of Coast Import and Export Company." Puifu said to Cornell, using the identity Gardner Martin had forged for Lu Mian.

Cornell extended his right hand with a hint of surprise:

"Very young."

Lu Mian shook his hand while smiling and saying:

"This is the reward for my diligent study and hard work."

The poet Elet was about to mutter that most people here studied diligently and worked hard, yet he hadn't seen anyone become the general manager of a large company at such a young age. Lu Mian had already added in a self-deprecating tone:

"It is precisely because I performed well in these two aspects that my father appointed me as the general manager of the import and export company."

After everyone present was stunned for a moment, they understood Lu Mian's meaning and laughed one after another.

Their impression of Charles Dubois became even better.

In their circle, there was no shortage of people who relied on the shade of their fathers to sit in very important positions at a young age. Those people were either very sensitive about others mentioning their parents or elders in front of them, having to show off their so-called abilities, or they were not confident and mature enough, with their conversation always being about what my father did or what my uncle did. People who could be as generous, calm, and humorous as Lu Mian without showing off were few and far between; Count Puifu back then barely counted as one.

After using the humor learned from his sister to amuse everyone, Lu Mian deliberately looked at Laurent and said:

"Who is this?"

Thump, thump, Laurent's heartbeat accelerated rapidly.

Although both sides had a tacit understanding not to expose each other's true identities, he lacked sufficient understanding of Charles Dubois, this gang leader, and was afraid that the other party would suddenly change his mind.

Cornell, editor-in-chief of "The Little Trierite," pointed to the young man beside him:

"Laurent, very talented, very knowledgeable, and also very polite. I have observed him for nearly three months and intend to hire him as my assistant, serving as deputy editor-in-chief. How about it, Laurent? I have suddenly made such an invitation; are you willing to accept?"

Laurent was first startled, then hit by immense joy, and his whole person felt a bit dizzy.

He swallowed his pain and unease, enduring his mother's crying and the neighbors' scorn—wasn't it all for this day?

He always believed that with his talent, he shouldn't be relegated to the bottom. He had been searching for opportunities, even if it meant squeezing his mother to support the decency he had faked.

Laurent didn't let himself appear too excited and responded to editor-in-chief Cornell with a smile:

"This is my honor."

Not bad. Although speculation is highly risky, the returns are equally considerable. However, if he doesn't change his mindset and truly start from the current position, but still thinks about constant speculation to improve his social status, he will lose everything sooner or later... Lu Mian recalled some things his sister said when she lost money on stocks and, combined with the current situation, evaluated Laurent's behavior in his heart.

Unlike Charlie and the others, he was not very disdainful of this kind of speculative behavior of squeezing one's mother. As long as Laurent's mother could accept it and hadn't asked anyone to help beat up her son or shown a strong willingness to resist, he felt it was nothing.

After Cornell and the others sat down, Lu Mian asked curiously:

"Where did you and Laurent meet?"

"At Vichy Cafe." Cornell replied with a smile, "He often comes over to chat with us about various things in Trier and express his own insights."

Vichy Cafe, that place where you can only buy half a bottle of natural water and two boiled eggs for 5 Felkins? Laurent's mother, Mrs. Lacazan, can't even earn 3 Felkins after working all day... However, the investment can be considered to have paid off. Managing a newspaper of the size of "The Little Trierite," even if it's just a deputy editor-in-chief, and even if he just joined, he has an income of nearly 5,000 Felkins a year, and that's just on the surface... Lu Mian compared the changes and felt that Laurent's obsession with managing connections through speculation had its own logic.

However, out of a hundred people who do this, it's good if one succeeds.

Lu Mian glanced at Laurent, who was stealing a vigilant look at him, and smiled, changing the subject:

"Cornell, last month, or even earlier, I saw an advertisement for an 'Interstellar Bridge' in 'The Little Trierite,' and I thought it was quite interesting. Do you know anything about it?"

Cornell puffed on his pipe and laughed:

"I think they are a group of paranoid patients, but since they paid, I have no reason not to let them publish the advertisement. Maybe it can fool fanatical mechanical science enthusiasts."

"How are they doing now?" Lu Mian laughed "hehe," "I'm even thinking of investing some money in them to see if they are scammers or if they can really make something."

The poet Elet picked up his large pipe and muttered:

"Investing in them is not as good as sponsoring me. At least you can scold me for writing like a pile of dog shit, and I won't refute you."

"No problem, how about 5,000 Felkins?" Lu Mian had the attitude of not taking money seriously.

He planned to use the excuse of not having enough cash later to give Elet only 3,000 Felkins.

Elet put down his large pipe and opened his arms:

"Praise the Sun, let Charles's malice come more fiercely!"

"Haha, after the salon ends, we'll go back to the Old Town together." Lu Mian hinted that he would definitely sponsor him later; not giving it directly now was to avoid appearing too money-grubbing.

After this interlude, Cornell became much more enthusiastic toward Lu Mian:

"I don't know how that group is doing now; they only paid for one month of advertising."

After chatting for a while, Count Puifu looked at the sun that had begun to set, looked around, and suggested with a smile:

"Shall we play the King Cake game? Consider it a warm-up before dinner."

Is this the only game you know? Do you have a childhood... Lu Mian just muttered to himself and did not object.

Others expressed their agreement one after another, and Count Puifu immediately had the manservant bring up the huge King Cake that the kitchen had prepared long ago.

It was like the lid of a stew pot, directly placed on a silver tray, emitting an alluring color and aroma.

"Who will be responsible for cutting?" Count Puifu's gaze swept over every participant.

He thought for a moment and said:

"Ailuo, you do it. You are the youngest and most beautiful lady here."

Ailuo, who was sitting on the high stool next to Lu Mian, jumped down nimbly, picked up the table knife, and began to cut the King Cake.

Very obedient to her cousin, relying on the Sauron family and Count Puifu to survive? Lu Mian noticed that Ailuo's technique was skillful; she must have played with table knives often.

Soon, the huge King Cake was roughly divided into twenty-nine portions.

Like last time, Count Puifu suggested offering the extra piece of cake to his ancestor, Vumeda Sauron. No one objected.

After completing this part of the ritual, the entire living room became extremely quiet, and even outside the castle, it seemed to have solidified.

"Laurent, you and Charles are attending my Saturday salon for the first time, so you two choose first." Count Puifu cast his gaze toward Lu Mian and Laurent.

Lu Mian laughed "haha":

"Of course the host should choose first, don't you all agree?"

Under his instigation, the other participants also thought the host should start.

Count Puifu no longer pushed back, picked up a piece of King Cake, and said to everyone:

"Whoever bites the coin is the king."

Seeing that this member of the Sauron family had finished choosing, Lu Mian felt more at ease as he leaned forward to search for a target.

This was his double insurance—let Count Puifu choose first, and then, while there were still plenty of pieces left, use Termiboros's repulsion toward this matter to select a piece that did not contain the coin.

This time, Termiboros did not remind him, and Lu Mian naturally picked up the piece of King Cake he had selected.

Before he could even sit properly, his mind suddenly felt dazed, and before his eyes, he seemed to see that narrow glass window again, seeing the man with dark red hair who had gouged out his own eyeballs.

(End of chapter)