Jin Lu and she sat on chairs in the yard, enjoying the autumn breeze and falling leaves. He had always imagined scenes like this: meadows and forests, just the two of them. When he was bored, he would take his canvas to the mountains and begin his work. Even though she was no longer by his side, his brush still unconsciously depicted her, her outline so clear that she was instantly recognizable.
After a while, Grandpa called Jin Lu in. Grandpa liked him because he was simple. Actually, if you think about it from another angle, Jin Lu is indeed very simple. Apart from playing the piano and painting, his other skills are not considered special. For Grandpa, this may be his later life. Naturally, he is happy to talk to Jin Lu. She smiled unconsciously.
Seeing that Ouyang was the only one in the yard, Zhuo Qiang sat down and asked, "What's so funny?"
Ouyang ignored him and looked at Meiyu who was talking to her grandmother in the room. Although Meiyu had lived in the United States for a while, she didn't have that American vibe at all. She was still a pure Chinese woman, the kind of woman who was most suitable to be a Chinese wife.
Seeing her secretly happy, he thought she was up to something bad. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the flowers were in full bloom. He checked his watch and decided it was time to leave: "Do you want to go?" He felt as if Ouyang had given him a cold shoulder, as if telling him not to start trouble at this time. He knew that the two old men were guarding the hall, and if he left, he would probably get scolded again.
Out of respect for the two elders, she always found it difficult to go against their wishes. For example, when Jin Lu was thinking about the unfinished painting at home, Grandpa would ask her to take him back, even though he had a car, they would drive away in their own cars, one in front and one behind.
Zhuo Qiang was not so lucky. He had to personally deliver the jade to her house and give her a decent gift according to her parents' wishes.
Jin Lu, who was driving in front, looked at Ouyang behind from time to time, as if if he didn't pay attention, she would disappear into an alley in a short while.
It was true that she had indeed disappeared after entering the city, for due to heavy traffic she had taken a different main road in her haste to return to the basement.
After a busy day, she lay down on the sofa without taking off her shoes. Dongya was busy packing and didn't notice she had returned. After she dozed off for a while, she got up and knocked on Dongya's study door: "What do you do every day? Why are you so busy?" She didn't understand. The things Dongya had to worry about and deal with were more complicated than she imagined. Especially after the establishment of the HDA system, he had to deal with so many matters, big and small, that even he didn't know what to do. However, he also had his own set of practices. For those IDs that were reported and found to have violated regulations, he would first check them and then deduct their levels and permissions according to the corresponding penalties. For those who refused to change after repeated warnings, HDA would permanently eliminate them.
"There are some noodles in the kitchen, you can cook them!" Dong Ya said.
"I think you should get a secretary," she said, "so you don't have to do all these useless chores." Yes, it was chores that kept her from doing anything useful. She stayed in this basement all day, dealing with missing persons and suicides. She was almost becoming a good helper to the police.
"It's not that easy." Dong Ya also wanted to free herself, but it was really not easy to find someone she trusted.
“I make egg noodles.”
"OK!"
Ouyang went to the kitchen. Simple egg noodles were her specialty. It took her twenty minutes to finish. She placed a bowl of hot noodles in front of Dongya. Seeing that he was still staring at the computer, she looked a little impatient. She put down the bowl and closed his computer. "Eat noodles."
Dongya looked at her, picked up the chopsticks, picked up the noodles, and said, "They're done well. Let's eat."
She leaned on the chair opposite: "Tell me, do you have anywhere else to go all day besides staying in the basement?" Lately, she has been going to the supermarket to buy things alone, for fear that he would starve to death here.
"Didn't he go out a few times to investigate the case a few days ago?"
"You call me out for that," she pouted. "Okay, let me find you a secretary tomorrow so you don't have to deal with all this alone."
"Let's look for it!" He agreed. He had been staying up all night for several nights recently because he was too busy.
Ouyang felt that an HDA was a large space where people with common interests could come together to exchange ideas. If he always had to take care of everything, he might really turn an HDA into a large company.
"Let's think about this differently." She used to think his idea of managing HDA was a good one, but now she has a different perspective. "HDA isn't something we can just do as we please. You and I both understand the principle of survival of the fittest. Why do we have to screen everyone like a sieve?"
Dongya looked at her suspiciously: "So you mean we don't care?"
"Just take care of the big things, not the small things," she still remembered what Ji Ou warned her before he left, "Besides Ye, there are also Jing, Chun, Shan, Kong and others. We just need to keep an eye on the boss."
Dong Ya looked at her and asked, "Were you somewhere and heard some news?"
Ouyang thought he was smart, at least he understood it at once: "That's pretty much what I mean." She got up and left. There was a bowl of fragrant noodles waiting for her outside.
The next day, Dongya posted a job posting on HDA, conducting the interview in an open, fair, and transparent manner, something he enjoyed doing. He set the interview location at a cafe not far from the basement.
Ouyang was sitting on the second floor of the coffee shop, and through the glass she could see Dongya talking to the interviewees. Through the receiver, she could easily hear what they were saying.
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