Chapter 11:

Day0422:37
It took less than five minutes to complete the call to resolve the misunderstanding. This straightforward and efficient way of communication makes Songran feel happy, and also improves a lot of his favorability towards Mr. He.
As an illustrator, Songran has suffered a lot from communication failures. Last year, there was a period of unlucky luck. I encountered some people who had no opinion in the early stage, and asked anything and everything casually. In the later stage, I found faults and asked people who were unsatisfied with everything. The attitude was overwhelming. I said, "I can’t tell you the details, anyway. No", it was really a mouthful of old blood in my heart, I couldn't spit it out or swallow it, I just wanted to grab the paintbrush and insert it into the opponent's Tianling cover.
Every time I stay up late to revise the manuscript, Songran will hold a ceremony to insert the No. 4, No. 6 and No. 8 brushes side by side into three sticks of incense, and pray sincerely that the next order will be more reliable. It is best to take the minutiae in one breath. I'll talk about it all, so I don't have to toss about his weak body.
If everyone were like Mr. He who was not roundabout, not polite, and went straight to the subject, the world would have been peaceful.
Songran speaks quickly when he is in a good mood. As soon as the chatterbox opened, the rabbit's three-petal mouth uttered to Mr. He, saying that he was very sad when he sent the cloth to school today. He knew that a key phone call was waiting. He, he must get rid of the bad habit of getting up early, sleep enough for half an hour to get back to sleep before going out.
"Who said that the early bird has worms?" He looked sad, "I just got up too early to starve to death."
He Zhiyuan smiled slowly in his eyes, carrying an empty cup to the kitchen for cleaning, halfway through the way, a sly idea broke into his mind: "I have a very simple way to prevent this from happening, do you want to know? "
Songran was immediately excited: "What way?"
He Zhiyuan narrowed his eyes: "Mind telling me your mobile phone number?"
"Hand, phone number... hey, yes!"
Songran slapped her pillow, and it suddenly dawned on him-knowing the phone number, they don't have to rely on the simple children's phone. Of course, Mr. He can contact him at any time.
He quickly reported a series of numbers. He Zhiyuan was washing his coffee cup and couldn't take off his hands. He recited the eleven digits intently, and directly memorized the eleven numbers: "Okay, I will remember. You have paper and pen on hand. Well, also write down my number. If you encounter any trouble that cannot be solved these days, call me in time."
"You, your number..."
Songran hesitated.
To be honest, how could he not want Mr. He's phone number? But Mr. He really gave it to him. Even if they formally exchanged contact information, it may not be too strange from the perspective of the employer and the nanny, but Songran always feels... always feels a little elusive deep meaning in it. For example, can he take the opportunity to go further with Mr. He...
Ah, it really is spring, I want to fall in love and want to be crazy, even straight married men have been conscientiously included in the scope of adultery!
The little virgin was embarrassed, lowered his head and covered half of his face.
After thinking about it, he decided to restrain himself and kill the thoughts that shouldn't be in the bud: "Mr. He, you don't need to give me your number. I will take good care of Bobo and don't bother you."
He Zhiyuan smiled when he heard the words: "I think that'trouble me' is also a good way to take care of Bobo. You see, as Bobo's father, I am naturally a high-quality resource, which is provided for free and not limited. Times, are you sure you want to put such good resources away as you don’t need them, and work on your own, allowing me to sit back and enjoy the benefits?"
This reason sounds pretty convincing, but why is the weirdness more obvious?
Songran couldn't figure it out and pulled the tip of his hair in anguish.
He Zhiyuan saw that he didn’t say anything, and said, "Songran, believe me, you will need me. Even if Bobu is sensible, he is more prone to accidents than adults. No one knows when the emergency comes. , In case you catch a cold and fever, it will be enough for you to toss for several days."
When it came to Bobo’s security issue, Songran immediately changed his mind, feeling that the phone number was not only well-founded, but also very important. He was ashamed of the previous madness, took out his cell phone, snapped down Mr. He's number, repeatedly confirmed it three times, and then stayed at the "contact name" for a while.
Mr. He's surname is He, but what is it called?
"Uh, he... Dad? Is it okay to write Dad He as a note?" He asked, "Should I write about Mr. He?"
"He Zhiyuan." The other side answered generously, "Jabei He, quiet and far-reaching Zhiyuan."
Songran swiftly deleted the word "Dad" in response, and began to search through the full screen of Chinese characters: "Zhi... Yuan... Ah, I found it!"
He pressed "Save" and looked at the three words "He Zhiyuan" on the screen. The corners of his lips couldn't help but raised slightly, revealing a smile that he didn't even notice: "Your name is really elegant. It was taken by the elders in the family. ?"
"'you'."
Songran was dumbfounded: "Ah? I took it? How... how is it possible?"
He Zhiyuan was about to be defeated by his cuteness, and the cup almost fell into the sink: "Not the name, but the title-don't use'you', use'you'. From the first call, you have been there. Call me by a respectful name. I am indeed a few years older than you, but in terms of relationship, we are neighbors and friends, so there is no need to be so polite."
"Oh, good... good."
Song Ran nodded and agreed.
He thought that Mr. He was older than himself and had a higher social status than himself, and there was no mistake in calling a "you". But calling it this way when the relationship gets closer is indeed too rusty, and on the contrary it is even more impolite. So he took the initiative to correct his mistakes and practiced saying: "You... uh, you..."
He Zhiyuan was holding an empty cup in his left hand and the handle of the dishwasher with his right, waiting patiently for him to continue.
Songran didn't think about what to say. After trying "you" for a long time, he suffocated a short but very powerful question: "Are you...wearing clothes?"
After asking, he gave himself a crisp slap.
Even though He Zhiyuan was so knowledgeable, he was really taken aback for a while, and then he laughed out loud, ready to answer "not wearing" to tease him. Before I could speak, there was a crashing howling from the other side: "No, no, I didn't mean that! Absolutely not! I just...I mean...that, you, you, you got up You have to get dressed, and you have to, uh, breakfast...you, have you eaten breakfast?!"
The tweeter stopped broadcasting, and both sides fell into an awkward silence at the same time.
At first, He Zhiyuan didn’t feel much embarrassment. He was just curious about the erratic brain circuit. When the screaming voice was finished, every word was like adding fuel to the fire, so that he could smell it through the phone. To the hot and embarrassing atmosphere.
This neighbor is too individual.
Gentleman He Zhiyuan is a gentleman, and he has always given steps to steps, and never does anything that exposes shortcomings or refutes faces. He smiled casually, pretending to believe Songran's explanation: "The company provides breakfast. I usually go to the company to eat."
"Then... well, is it delicious?"
The embarrassment continued to ferment. In order to strengthen his face, Songran bit his head to find a topic.
He Zhiyuan held a negative answer to this and shrugged: "There are many varieties, honey toast, croissant, oatmeal, omelette, smoked bacon, vegetable juice... the advantage is balanced nutrition, sufficient calories, and the disadvantage is that it is too American. The taste is definitely not as good as the small wontons you pack."
"Really?"
The small handmade wonton workshop was rated as five stars by Mr. He, and it crushes the modern standard large kitchen. Chef Song is flattered and can't help himself. The remaining embarrassment vanishes instantly: "If you like it, you can come to my home every morning when you return home..."
He Zhiyuan once again pointed out: "'You'."
"Ah, I'm sorry!" Songran bit her tongue lightly to punish herself, and quickly corrected her verbal error, "When you return home, you can come to my house every morning...to eat small wontons."
"Good." He Zhiyuan was invited happily, "I'm very happy."
After tidying up the kitchen and returning to the living room, He Zhiyuan glanced at the wall, and suddenly he paused, showing a look of surprise-the monitor screen has been changed for some time, and Songran's clear face is projected on the wall, serious Staring at him, no, staring at Xiao Q's front camera.
The young man looks good, because he is young, with a little lively childishness between his eyebrows and eyes, and looks vigorous, but in the camera, he is a little funny.
In order to expand the monitoring area, the small Q is equipped with a wide-angle fisheye lens, and the picture will produce a certain degree of distortion. A mature correction algorithm is used in the engineering, and the distortion is usually not serious, but Songran is too close to the lens, and the nose is almost sticking up, which causes the facial features to be distorted, and the whole face is plump, looking round.
But even such a deformed face is full of vigor and vitality.
Songran's eyelashes are dense and long, and the ends are naturally upturned. Underneath the eyes are black and clear, and they are clearer than amber under soft light, reminiscent of a newborn baby deer. Because I didn't know that the camera was on, curiosity or amazement flowed through these eyes unobstructed, which was particularly straightforward and charming.
He Zhiyuan was stunned for a moment when he was staring straight at such gazes, his chest was stuffy, as if he was pressing a heavy stone, but he could hardly suppress a certain sprout, long-lost emotion.
He asked: "What are you doing?"
Songran in the picture tilted his head and smiled: "Guess."
He Zhiyuan pretended not to guess: "Watching the stars on the balcony?"
"The smog is so heavy, where are the stars for me to see." Songran smiled brighter, "I'm looking at your robot."
Just now, after Xiao Q visited the living room, he slowly moved to the door of the room. Lin Hui left Yanshi's door without closing the door, leaving a gap, and it came in generously. Songran just rubbed the pillow and was boring, seeing that it was white and round like a boiled egg with a shell, and her playfulness increased. She stretched her legs to intercept the small Q, squatted in front of it, and looked at this harmless cute creature. .
He Zhiyuan asked: "How's your impression?"
"Um..." Songran's eyes moved slightly, and he glanced up and down at Xiao Q for a while, then jumped a few steps back, curled his knuckles and tapped his chin, carefully said, "It's not the same as I imagined. I I thought the robots were like the kind of, er, human-like appearance in science fiction movies, with two arms and two legs, and a stiff face."
"Do you prefer human figures?"
Songran closed his eyes and imagined for a second. Suddenly, his hairs stood up, and he shook his head and said: "I don't like it! There is a humanoid machine at home, and I will be scared to death when I see it in the middle of the night. Like it, the shape is simple, like a big cocoon, it looks cute, right?"
He reached out and touched Xiao Q's smooth shell.
Mr. He then told him:
There is a theory in robotics, called uncannyvalley, which refers to the fact that humans have a strong fear of a machine that looks very human, and then feel repulsive. Therefore, when doing exterior design, it is generally divided into There are two genres, one takes the extreme simulation route, until the truth is difficult to distinguish, and the other completely abandons the human appearance and takes the minimalist route, just like Xiao Q."
Songran understood roughly, and gave He Zhiyuan another admiration: "Mr. He, you are so amazing."
He Zhiyuan corrected it for the third time: "'You'."
"Ah, sorry!"
Songran stuck out his tongue embarrassedly.
Without knowing that he was exposed to the camera, Chef Song was in high spirits, sitting cross-legged, harassing the cocoon, touching here, knocking there, asking the east, and the west. He Zhiyuan saw that he liked his work, and he answered the same with patience, no matter how layman the question was.
"Here is a row of blue lights, on top of the LOGO, dimming in a few seconds, and then turning on again, what's the use?"
He Zhiyuan replied: "That is a breathing light, which means the camera is working."
"Camera..." Songran in the screen looked left and right, as if looking for a camera. Suddenly the wall went dark, a finger swiped from the front of the camera, and quickly came back, "Is that this? "
In the next instant, Song Ran's face changed suddenly, and then there was a loud noise, and the whole wall was black.
He Zhiyuan took the phone far away, shaking his shoulders and laughing.
When the projection screen lights up again, the lens is covered with a thick layer of water vapor. When the water vapor dissipates, the screen is already empty. Only the camellia red cloth sofa, thick woven curtains, curved wooden walls, and recessed light strips can be seen Song Ran hid.
He Zhiyuan stood with arms folded, waiting calmly in place.
After a while, the monitoring screen began to rotate automatically, the lens swept through 180 degrees, and it was frozen at the original position behind the small Q, and the dumbfounded face appeared in the center of the screen again.
"Why did you bring it around!"
Songran roared in shame, stretched out his hand to cover it, and firmly blocked the camera. The two earlobes quickly burned red, and his cheeks were hot enough to burn a pot of scallion pancakes.
He Zhiyuan said happily, "What are you hiding? How old are you still shy?"
Songran pulled out a thread from the messy thoughts, feeling a little overreacted, and if this continues, his unreasonable thoughts about Mr. He will be exposed. He calmed down, muttered "good neighborly friendship, harmonious relations" N times, and slowly let go of his hand.
So He Zhiyuan saw Songran sitting against the wall with a big pillow in his arms, his cheeks flushed, and staring at the camera very annoyedly: "I, I'm not ashamed, I just feel a little bit ashamed... you, that What? Everyone in the neighborhood, the camera is on, anyhow remind me."
He Zhiyuan smiled and apologized to him. He rubbed his face angrily and still complained deeply: "Mr. He, this is your home. I will definitely not stop you if you want to turn on the camera. Besides, I, I have nothing to watch. But are you like this... is it particularly bad?"
"Yes, very bad."
He Zhiyuan confessed his mistake as he wanted, with a sincere attitude, and brought a little coaxing little pet, so Songran didn't know what to pick up. He squeezed two hairs awkwardly, then pulled at the neckline, trying to take care of himself as much as possible.
The ice blue indicator light alternates between light and dark, slowly and softly, like the sea water that washes the beach over and over again at high tide.
At the other end of the indicator light, Mr. He is watching his eyes.
Seeing how embarrassed he is now, will Mr. He laugh at him? Will he despise him?
He doesn’t seem to be very photogenic-he put on a crumpled T-shirt in the afternoon and went to the magazine for social articles. He came back in the evening and bought a portion of fried noodles. He accidentally rubbed a few drops of rapeseed oil on his chest and his hair was blown by the wind. It's like a chicken coop, and the cross-legged sitting posture is too casual, and he hides behind Xiao Q childishly...I saw such a mess in the first place, how can I save it in the future?
Oh, and that phone call that lasted 1 hour, 39 minutes and 18 seconds.
Songran thought of the phone, and dropped his shoulders gloomily-forget it, don't save it, his current image is not much different from that of a fool, and it is difficult to think worse than this, unless he is ingenious and runs naked in front of the camera.
Wait a minute, streaking? !
He suddenly raised his head and squatted to ask: "Just now, in the Boob room, is this camera right? It has been..."
He Zhiyuan: "Yes."
Songran's scorched expression was struck by lightning: "So I take it off...toototototo...you see it too?"
"I see, I have a good body." He Zhiyuan calmly played a rogue and praised him, "Exercising regularly is a good habit, and I will keep it in the future."
Songran sobbed and planted, grabbed the pillow and pressed it his face, wishing to suffocate and die.
He Zhiyuan is an out-and-out expert in speech. After coaxing for two minutes, Songran forgot the embarrassment. Instead, he introduced his own exercise method and was alarmist, saying, "After the age of 30, men can easily grow small belly. The reason is to remind Mr. He to pay attention to exercise and not to give up his figure because of too busy work.
He Zhiyuan smiled without saying a word, and kindly saved him face without breaking his class.
They chatted eagerly for a long time, and Sudden suddenly propped his chin and sighed towards the lens that shone with bluish-violet light before him. He Zhiyuan asked him what was going on, but he didn't pay attention, and a little resentment that had been lingering for a long time emerged: "Only you can see me, but I can't see you, how unfair!"
After speaking, he was completely dumbfounded, dumbly there, just wanting to go back in time, biting the sentence and swallowing it back.
He Zhiyuan lowered his head and smiled.
He found that he didn't mind Songran's almost aegemous complaint, nor did he mind the almost reckless request behind this complaint, and even felt that this request was so wonderful that it pleased him.
"As long as you want, you can see me now." He Zhiyuan said, "This room is my small theater and a remote meeting room. The screen is directly in front of you, and the projector is directly behind you. There is a switch twenty centimeters above your head. Press it and say ten silently. We will be fair."