"Niu Bijian?"
MacLehose paused for a moment, then became even more agitated.
What does this idiot want from me?
Can't we talk about this during the day?
He reluctantly released his secretary, then growled impatiently toward the door, "Tell him! I'm resting! I'm asleep! If it's anything, tell him to come back tomorrow! No one is allowed to disturb my rest now!"
"Yes, Sir."
Only after receiving the order did the butler's footsteps slowly fade away.
The female secretary leaned closer with some disappointment, her fingers tracing gracefully across Mai Lihao's chest.
MacLehose took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and then tried to get back into character and gather his emotions.
However, less than three minutes later...
The ambiguous atmosphere in the study had just begun to rekindle...
Knock knock knock!
The knocking sounded again.
The butler said with great difficulty, "Sir... Mr. Newbikini insists on not leaving... He says... he says the matter concerns the vital interests of British companies and the risks to HSBC, and he must see you immediately..."
"Fuck!!"
MacLehose became famous and finally couldn't help but swear.
He glanced to the side, where his female secretary, who had been repeatedly disturbed, also looked displeased. He then waved his hand irritably at the butler and said, "Tell him to get out! Now! Immediately! Tell him I'm asleep! I can't hear you!"
"Yes, Sir."
The butler's footsteps quickly faded into the distance once more.
Back in the reception room of Government House.
Niu Bijian paced anxiously.
The butler walked in calmly, bowed slightly, and said, "Mr. Newbikin, I'm very sorry. The Governor is indeed asleep and cannot receive guests. Please come again tomorrow during the day."
"Rest? Asleep?"
Newt G. looked utterly bewildered. Pointing to the antique clock on the wall, he questioned, "What time is it? 8:10! When did the Governor of Hong Kong start sleeping so early?!"
He simply couldn't understand it at all.
When Sham Bid said "sleep," did the Governor of Hong Kong also say "sleep"?
Why do all these important figures seem to love sleeping so much these days?!
"Perhaps Sir is extremely busy with official duties lately and is feeling somewhat fatigued. Please come again tomorrow during the day!"
The butler's answer was impeccable, and he politely saw the guests off.
"But...but my matter is really urgent! It involves Jardine Matheson, Hongkong Land, and HSBC..."
"Sir, you have indeed gone to rest, Mr. Newbridge. Please understand. Please return."
The butler turned slightly to the side, this time making a firm gesture to see the guest out.
After all, it was because of Newt Griffiths's insistence that he had interrupted Governor Murray MacLehose's enjoyment for the second time, so the butler naturally didn't have a good attitude towards Newt Griffiths now.
Looking at the steward's expressionless face and then at the tightly closed door leading to the inner palace, Niu Bijian felt a surge of immense frustration and an unventable anger.
He was the head manager of Jardine Matheson!
Jardine Matheson was once the largest British-owned enterprise in Hong Kong. Whenever I came to Government House, I was always treated as an honored guest.
How come you're so earnestly seeking an audience, yet you can't even get a meeting with the Governor of Hong Kong?
Having just been rebuffed by Sir Michael Sandberg, and now being turned away by the Governor's House, he felt like a clown jumping around, rejected by everyone.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
He cursed under his breath, his face ashen.
In the end, he could only glare at the door helplessly before turning away from the Governor's House in a huff.
The Rolls-Royce started up again and blended into the night.
Niu Bijian leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted and angry.
The cold shoulder from Shen Bi and the closed door from the Governor's House felt like two resounding slaps across his face.
The root cause of all this was Kobayashi Tenno, an ambitious young Japanese man.
On the other side, in Villa No. 3 in Repulse Bay, in the study.
The stillness of the night enveloped the place, with only the scratching sound of pens slicing across paper.
Lin Huowang sat behind his large desk, looking very focused, sometimes deep in thought, sometimes writing furiously.
On the table lay a stack of manuscript paper, covered with dense English letters.
There were also several sheets of paper scattered around, each filled with some kind of setting.
Liu Rumeng walked in with a cup of warm milk and gently placed it on the corner of the table to avoid disturbing him.
She knew very well that when her husband was writing, he would completely ignore the outside world and become completely immersed in his writing.
Originally, she only planned to leave quietly after putting down the milk.
However, when she glanced at the contents of the manuscript, she realized that it was not a business document or plan, but rather a novel, written entirely in English.
At this moment, Lin Huowang seemed to have just completed a phase. After letting out a long sigh, he put down the pen in his hand.
"Awang, what are you writing? You seem so engrossed."
Seeing that Lin Huowang had stopped, Liu Rumeng dared to ask softly, a hint of curiosity on her face.
Although Liu Rumeng witnessed Lin Huowang writing novels such as "The Wound" and "Bright Sword" while she was in Northeast China.
But those are, after all, Chinese novels, stories based on specific periods in Chinese history.
Lin Huowang was able to write these two novels partly because of his reflections on Chinese society and the times, and partly because of the stories many people told him about his experiences.
Liu Rumeng's own experiences, as well as Lin Huowang's exchanges with those hundreds of regimental commanders, can be said to be the source of realistic ideas and stories for the novels "The Wounded" and "Bright Sword".
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