Chapter 451

With a flattering expression, Zhu Cong said, "I mean, it's a bit wrong to call you miss Qianjin. Your father has ten trillion yuan of assets, so he should be called Miss Wanjin."

Zhang Guihua disdainfully said: "although I am the only child of my father and the only heir to the property, I don't care about my father's property at all. I want to start my own business from scratch."

Zhu Cong said with admiration: "Miss, you are really ambitious. It's rare for a rich second generation like you who don't lie on the property of your parents. I admire you very much

"Brother, help me to the car."

Zhu Cong, a slave, respectfully helped Zhang Guihua out of the yard.

"Brother, what do you do?"

"Miss, I work in the city cultural center. I'm a screenwriter."

"Oh, it turns out that it's people who play with pens. I heard that people who play with pens love to play with their hearts, but I don't think you are such a person."

"I'm honest and sincere, and I'm very progressive in my career. After graduating from University, I've written more than ten plays."

"Brother, has your script been made into a TV play or movie?"

"That's not true. A film director has taken a fancy to a script. Let me revise it. I guess it will be made into a film."

"Oh, big brother is a man of great achievements."

"No, I'm just working hard and having a little talent."

Chameleon saw Zhu Cong holding Zhang Guihua out of the yard, got out of the car, ran respectfully and asked, "Miss, what's wrong with you?"

Zhang Guihua pointed to the chameleon and said, "brother, this is my full-time driver. Do you see that blue car is mine, worth more than 10 million yuan. In B city, there is only one high-class car like me."

"Ah! Miss, your family is very rich. "

When the chameleon wanted to help Zhang Guihua, Zhu Cong stopped him and said, "I'd better come. I think you're clumsy. Don't hurt the lady's feet."

Zhu Cong helped Zhang Guihua to the side of the car, politely opened the door and said, "Miss, please get on slowly. Do you need me to accompany you to the hospital?"

Zhang Guihua got into the car, waved her hand and said, "I'll call home and ask my secretary to come. I have two secretaries and two bodyguards. It's enough to have them with me. Big brother, thank you for helping me up from the ground at the critical moment. I'm very grateful to you. "

"Miss, this is what I should do. I always like to do good things. For me, such good things are done every day."

"Big brother, you are a good man."

Zhang Guihua took out a business card from her satchel and handed it to Zhu Cong: "this is my business card. If you have anything difficult to do in the future, you can come to me. My father is a well-known person at home and abroad, so you can do everything in all directions."

Zhu Cong looks at the business card, and the look on it startles him.

The title of the business card is: President of international affairs company, chairman of Dongfang financial group, general manager of Qiankun trading company.

These titles alone gave Zhu Cong a big surprise.

He felt a little dazed in his eyes and a little dizzy in his head. He never dreamed that he would meet such a rich lady.

He thought he was so lucky that he couldn't believe it was true.

Her name is Li Manting.

The name is extraordinary at first sight.

"Take your time, Miss Li."

"Brother, why don't you understand the rules? I gave you a business card. You should give it back."

Zhu Cong was embarrassed and said, "Miss Li, I'm a little person. I didn't print a business card."

Zhang Guihua disdained, said: "you also boast that you have written more than a dozen scripts. You didn't even have a business card. In my opinion, you are a third rate screenwriter and can't get on the stage."

Zhu Cong wants to find a mouse hole to get in. He regrets that he should spend 20 yuan to print a box of business cards on the street, so that he won't fall into today's embarrassing situation.

Zhu Cong wanted to print business cards for a long time, but he thought it was useless to print business cards.

Relatives, friends and acquaintances all know that he spent his time in the city cultural center. Although he wrote more than a dozen scripts, they are all out of fashion scripts. No director can look up to them. They can only be used as a reference for the community aunts when they play plays.

Zhu Cong took out a piece of paper from his pocket and wrote down his contact information. He handed the paper to Zhang Guihua, nodded and said, "Miss Li, if you need to use me, please call me. I'll be on call and serve you wholeheartedly."

Zhang Guihua curled her lips and said, "you are not my slave. Why do you come on call? I see that you are a bit mean."

Zhu Cong was a little annoyed by Zhang Guihua's abuse, but he didn't dare to attack it. On the one hand, he couldn't afford to offend the rich lady, and the rich would have power. If he offended these people, maybe someone would come to punish him.

Secondly, he thought that it was God's favor to meet Miss Li today. If he could flatter this rich lady, maybe he could climb on the wings of a swan and soar to the sky.

"Miss Li, I'd like to be your slave and listen to you at any time."

"Ha ha... Brother, you are so funny, but it's also very interesting. Well, when my feet are better, I'll invite you to dinner. Thank you for helping me today. I'm a conscientious and loyal person, and I won't forget you."

Zhang Guihua closed the car door.

The car left in a flash.

Zhu Cong stood on the side of the road, staring at the car and mumbling, "am I dreaming?"

Zhu Cong put a finger into his mouth and bit it. He called out "ouch" and said to himself, "it's not a dream. Today, I met a rich girl. Maybe it's a gift from God."

Zhu Cong began to daydream. All morning, he didn't write a single word of the script. He just sat in a chair and looked at the white clouds outside the window.

He seemed to feel that he was really lying on the wings of the swan, which took him to the white cloud.

The ring of the phone woke him up. It was the deputy curator.

"Zhu Cong, what are you doing recently? I asked you to write a disaster relief script. Why haven't you finished it yet? "

"Curator, I'm working overtime."

"Zhu Cong, I don't think you want to work here. At the beginning, when you graduated from University, I recruited you into the cultural center. I expected you to make some achievements, but you haven't done anything in recent years. You have written more than ten broken scripts, none of which is decent."