Chapter 175: Security check

"Li Tian, ​​are you still having a good time here?" he asked her.
Li Tian nodded, raised her eyebrows, and looked at the wall behind him through him.
"I have fulfilled all my wishes here."
"What kind of wish?"
She smiled, looking shy.
"Many things," she said softly after a while, her nose wrinkled, "like the dignity of an Asian woman."
What impressed White the most was at the gate of Stanford School. Philip Fisher once told him that a penny can also create a lot of value.
White wanted to know how to use this cent to create great value. Or not fantasy at all—but ambition. The ambition of a man, more precisely, the ambition of his White Engelson.
It was born after LUMBLAR became more and more successful. If he was lucky enough to attend Fisher's lecture, he felt that Fisher would speak again on stage, the value of a cent.
White made up a record of Fisher's lectures in other schools. So I understand that another thing that Fisher likes to metaphor is that when you choose to continuously pour hot water into two cups each, the rapid cooling process will cause the loss of water overflow.
This statement White is very interesting-people who are eager to drink a cup of cooling water still account for the loss of water? Isn't it?
Every time I read this passage from Fisher in the book, White couldn't help but try the cooling exercise of hot water, but he couldn't resonate with Fisher.
Until next time Fisher's words appeared again, usually when White had nothing to do and read it casually. Everyone onlookers had the same expression on their faces: What's the matter with White? What's wrong with those hot water and cups?
White decided the itinerary of this summit. On the weekend of this week, he boarded a plane to Colombia. At the airport security check, some people holding mobile phones were shooting at him.
He was standing on the smooth floor of the airport with his clothes hanging between his hands. The two girls took off their phones, each with a pure and beautiful face.
The phone forgot to turn off the flash. White was not sure if he blinked when they pressed the camera button. The two girls walked up to White, bent over and violently bent over at him, seemingly funny, and laughed with trembling shoulders.
White did not even move when he saw them. He glanced at them and put his gaze on the screen of the computer time again. One of the girls straightened up, held up the photo in the phone, and instructed him to see it.
It was ugly enough—really ugly—White glanced.
"Please forgive us for our rude actions! Hope you don't blame us."
"..."
"I want to know, are you and Evelyn really dating?"
"I think it has nothing to do with you, right?"
White showed that his talent is also remarkable, and two female students found him effortlessly. The only thing that is not certain is whether the real identity of the girl dressed as a college student or even a high school student is a member of the newspaper or a paparazzi?
Evelyn had just talked to him before. They gradually reached a consensus to the point that they would not bother them. These paparazzi photographers may really be students, and they have collected money to do such things.
If White responded rashly on this, the consequences might be unimaginable; but if they did it themselves, they should be fans of him or Evelyn.
According to the current situation. Most of them say that they are Evelyn's T fans.
But White saw them chattering. The reason might be to dig a little news, or for a little fun, or for entertainment after dinner.
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To this day, White has been very clear that Evelyn does not like to show her face too much. White called in the bathroom that day and chatted with Evelyn for a long time, and then Evelyn's attitude became cold, like a child who was suddenly angry.
Evelyn has always been considerate, and there is no reason why she would suddenly play a childish mind. The situation at that time can only show that Evelyn hid everything in her emotional vent.
Qiao White saw the surprise in the eyes of the two female students in front of him-even if he did not reply, the mobile phones in their hands and the photos in the mobile phones existed permanently.
White shrugged, and followed the voice into the security tunnel. He walked in steadily and looked ahead. The two female students in the back were still taking pictures of him, holding their bags tightly in one hand.
The more they made a huge noise, the more White ignored it, and the suitcase slid on the ground with a sharp rubbing sound.
The security inspector smiled sweetly at him, and a person reached out to take his luggage. White kept paying attention to the changes in their expressions.
A security officer said, "Ah, White."
Just as White was about to pass here, the personnel standing behind the counter took a notebook and pen, and ran over in small steps on the smooth ground.
The security officer stopped White, handed him the notebook, and looked up at White's face.
White had never been treated like this before. Less than two minutes ago, White still felt that he was an ordinary college student, and he asked the taxi at the door to stop farther.
Then White dragged the suitcase and got out of the car, stepped onto the electric slide, and began to meditate. That was less than two minutes ago, but now everything has changed? So whose fan is this security officer? no one knows.
White stopped, took the signature pen from the security officer, and vaguely pointed to a corner of the notebook, "I'm here, I can do anywhere."
The man smiled nervously, and other people followed behind him.
In the past few months, this was not the only person who came to witness White, nor was it the only person to find White's signature, but it was the only place where White was crowded with people at the airport.
And now White is about to get on the plane. Just took it hastily. The signature body is like a painting.
"This is your signature?" the man asked White.
He looked back at him in surprise, touched his shoulders, and dragged his luggage. "correct."
"This is the CEO of Lumblar, White Ferguson?"
"It's Engelson."
White looked at him again, until the young man who struck up shrugged and smiled.
"We are on the same flight." He said.
"It should be first class." White said.
He looked at him before getting on the plane, and he looked back the same. The young man is ambitious. The man put his gaze on him, staring at his green eyes, a little provocative and observant. Like this person in the whole elegant white.
"You think I'm a very rude passenger, right? So rashly accosted—," the young man came up behind him, "It's worth saying, my name is Ferguson?"
"It turned out to be so." He said.
Ferguson smiled: "There is one more thing in common."
"Do we all bring a handle, or are we the same age?"