Being in the modeling industry, my information is updated daily.

Chapter 225 The Shattered American Dream [Seeking Monthly Tickets]

Flea market.

Lin Qingsong was completely stunned when he heard what the white man said.

I blurted out instinctively, "How much???"

If he wasn't mistaken.

The alarm clock I randomly picked is probably neither an antique nor a big brand.

"One hundred US dollars." The white man in his fifties sat cross-legged by the stall, looking at Lin Qingsong's clothes and the barely visible watch strap on his wrist. He repeated the question before continuing, "Will you buy it?"

"And this one?" Lin Qingsong pointed to another wooden comb: "How much is this one?"

"Fifty dollars."

Upon hearing the price, Lin Qingsong turned and left.

A broken alarm clock sells for $100, and a broken wooden comb sells for $50.
Did this bastard suck his brains?
Or perhaps I look like a fool.

The white man was a little confused after seeing Lin Qingsong leave.

No.

Why did you just leave like that?

"Hey! Wait! The price is negotiable!" the stall owner called out from behind.

But Lin Qingsong left without looking back.

Once he was a little further away, he called the bodyguard who had been following him and asked him to buy a leather suitcase.

Ten minutes later, looking at the old leather suitcase in front of him, he asked the bodyguard with a puzzled expression, "How much did you just say it cost?"

"Five dollars." The muscular man remained expressionless.

Fuck!
That old bastard Mao Chun Chun is just playing favorites!

Lin Qingsong looked at the clothes the muscular man opposite him was wearing, then looked down at his own clothes and the watch he had forgotten to take off his wrist.

A sense of helplessness washed over me.

No wonder that white man wanted to kill him.

Although his clothes didn't have any logos, they were all designer brands, and you could tell from the quality alone that they weren't cheap.

It seems I'll have to keep a regular tracksuit in my car next time.

Otherwise, in these bargain-hunting situations, if the clothes are too expensive, you're very likely to get ripped off.

He was also glad that he had hired a bodyguard in advance.

Not only can it protect your own safety, but it can also help with purchasing.

He took out the wallet Vivian had given him from his pocket, casually pulled out a few neatly folded tip bills, and handed them to the bodyguard.

This temporary security operation was then concluded.

"Boss!" The bodyguard, clearly unaccustomed to such an easy job, accepted the tip and said, "I hope to serve you again next time!"

"Okay, okay." Lin Qingsong greeted them casually, put the suitcase in the trunk of the car, and drove to meet the fabric merchant.

A coffee shop that looks quite tasteful.

Paul absentmindedly stirred the coffee with sugar cubes in front of him, his eyes fixed on the front door.

As a fabric merchant on the verge of bankruptcy, he really didn't want to miss any opportunity to revive his business.

After all, although the United States is known as a land of opportunity, the American Dream is intoxicating.

But after working here for so many years, how could he not know that it was all an illusion?

In this land, once you really go bankrupt, it's harder than climbing to heaven to get back up.

After all, bankruptcy doesn't mean you're out of all your debts. You still have to pay back all your debts, including credit card debt, student loans, medical bills, and so on!

But after bankruptcy, your credit score will be reduced to the lowest possible level.

The United States is a society that places great importance on credit, and if your grades are too low when looking for a job, you won't even get an interview.

Even landlords who see your credit history won't rent you a house.

Even if you manage to find a job, unless you receive cash, your wages will be deducted by various parties to pay off debts before you even get your paycheck.

Simply put, if you go bankrupt in the United States, you'll basically have no choice but to become homeless.

Even if you want to do manual labor, the construction union will require you to bring your own tools.

But they've all gone bankrupt, so where would they get the money to buy tools?

Even if you try your best to find the lowest-paying job, that job might only pay $7.25 an hour.

This is the federal minimum wage, which hasn't increased in about a decade.

You work tirelessly for twelve hours straight.

After paying taxes a month later and taking care of basic food needs, I still have no choice but to live on the streets.

Because you can't even afford the cheapest apartment.

Of course, if you don't work, you can just lie down and sleep in a welfare shelter.

According to government regulations.

Once a homeless person starts looking for work, no matter how much salary they receive, all their benefits will be immediately cut off.

Paul has seen many of his peers go bankrupt and be forced to give up by this system.

In their words, working is even worse than lying down and receiving welfare.

Think of this.

He couldn't resist picking up his coffee and drinking it all in one gulp.

I absolutely, positively cannot let myself fall to that point!

"Forest!"

Just then, he saw Lin Qingsong push open the door and walk in. He quickly stood up to greet him, his face beaming with a smile, and said, "This coffee is pretty good. What would you like to drink?"

He then waved to the waiter next to him to bring over the menu.

After casually ordering a cup of coffee, Lin Qingsong said to him, "Paul, I heard you've stockpiled a warehouse full of silk?"

"Yes!"

Paul felt a headache coming on just thinking about it. If it weren't for this, his funds would definitely be able to continue operating. Unfortunately, this warehouse of silk tied up a lot of his capital, which led to a vicious cycle in his cash flow.

"If I help you sell it, what percentage of the profit will you give me?" Lin Qingsong didn't bother beating around the bush and stated his purpose directly.

He had a pretty good understanding of Paul's situation.

If we can't sell this warehouse of silk this month and pay off part of the loan...

Then the debt will definitely collapse, and at that point it won't just be about to go bankrupt, it will be complete bankruptcy.

“Five hundred thousand US dollars, which is about three million RMB according to the exchange rate!” After thinking for a while, Paul looked at Lin Qingsong seriously: “This is the limit I can afford. If it’s any more, even if I sell all these silks, I will have no choice but to file for bankruptcy.”

hiss!
to be frank.

This was indeed somewhat beyond Lin Qingsong's expectations.

He thought a million would be enough.

Unexpectedly, it tripled.

Lin Qingsong didn't say much, only picked up his coffee, took a sip, and then stood up. Looking at Paul, whose face was grim as he stood up, he said, "Wait for my news."

Upon hearing this, Paul was taken aback.

He had initially thought Lin Qingsong was going to reject him, but to his surprise, he agreed.

But he quickly realized what was happening and forcibly suppressed his inner elation, asking, "Lin? You agreed?"

"I agree. I'll take a three million commission from you to sell that warehouse of silk." Lin Qingsong nodded with a light laugh and said, "Send me the specific details, and I'll have a lawyer draft a contract."

Although it's not in the country, otherwise Qin Yan could help draft the contract.

But as a top lawyer in mainland China, she could easily find a familiar lawyer in New York.

at the same time.

Kyoto.

Inside a warehouse on the outer ring road.

Si Ruoxuan put down her paintbrush, picked up the beer next to her and took a sip, then looked at the painting in front of her with satisfaction.

In order to push her own limits, she specially prepared a canvas that was over one meter long.

Such large-scale paintings not only require basic skills, but also demand techniques in various aspects.

During this period, she would create whenever she had free time.

I finally got it done today.

He drank his wine while contentedly watching his own rhythm.

After a while, she picked up her phone to see if anyone was looking for her.

After seeing Lin Qingsong's message, Si Ruoxuan curiously clicked on the photo.

However, the more I looked, the more alarmed I became.

Although she doesn't belong to the realist school, she had heard of Hopper's name and had seen Hopper's landscape paintings in person when she was in a gallery.

This painting, with its ambiguous signature, bears a striking resemblance to that of the New York painter, both in its brushstrokes and style.

"Old Lin, ask the person selling the paintings if these two paintings were painted by Hopper?" After sending the message, Si Ruoxuan looked at the paintings in front of her, which she had been quite satisfied with, and felt inexplicably irritated.

The frustration of being inferior to others in a skill.

"The seller doesn't know, and there's no signature." At this point, Lin Qingsong had almost finished talking with Paul and was driving back when he saw the message. He replied casually and continued driving.

Si Ruoxuan put down her beer, sat down on the ground, and carefully opened the photos, zooming in to view them little by little.

No matter how you look at it, there always feels like there's a layer between us.

Fortunately, Lin Qingsong added, "I'll go to the hotel later and take another picture with my camera. Could you please take a look, Mr. Si?"

After replying with "OK", Si Ruoxuan put down her phone, looked at the painting in front of her, and finally tore it down and put it aside.

Not satisfied.

Not satisfied!
We drove to the hotel.

Lin Qingsong carefully examined the old brown leather suitcase in the parking lot. It looked unremarkable on the outside.

But after careful examination, you can still feel that there is something inside the interlayer.

After picking up the tools he had bought on the way, he carefully unpacked the lining of the suitcase.

The yellowed letter was soon found in the interlayer.

Looking at the gold-embossed "Givenchy" lettering on the envelope, Lin Qingsong curiously took out the letter.

Ok.

It was all in French, and I couldn't understand it at all.

but it does not matter.

His gaze quickly shifted to the signature.

Looking at the inscription "Hubert de Givenchy" and the date 1938 next to it, he finally put the things away with satisfaction.

Carrying the things I had just bought, I hummed a song as I returned to my room.

Although I was busy with a lot of things this morning, it's only a little past 11 o'clock now.

Tian Xiwei and Zhang Ruonan were lying in bed thinking about what to eat for lunch when they heard the door open and they sat up abruptly.

"I am back."

Upon hearing Lin Qingsong's voice, the two breathed a sigh of relief.

"Old Lin, have you finished your business?" Tian Xiwei asked curiously as she got out of bed and came to Lin Qingsong's side, looking at the bags and packages in his hands with a puzzled expression.

"Okay, that's about it." After handing the things to Tian Xiwei to put on the table, Lin Qingsong washed his hands and came out to ask, "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, Brother Lin, have you eaten? If not, let's eat together!" Zhang Ruonan walked over to Lin Qingsong and said with concern.

"I haven't eaten either. Let's just grab something to eat later. I'll take you guys out for something nice tonight!"

Lin Qingsong was filled with anticipation for the store mentioned in the on-site intelligence report.

As he took out his Hasselblad camera and unfolded the oil painting, he asked Tian Xiwei curiously, "By the way, where are Eva and Vivian? I don't see them."

“Vivian went to the rehearsal, and Lisa took Eva to the show.” After answering, Tian Xiwei looked at Lin Qingsong with curiosity and asked, “Old Lin, what’s this all about? Did you snag another bargain?”

“You’re absolutely right,” Lin Qingsong said with a smile. “I was on my way to meet someone, and I passed by that charity shop, so I thought I’d take a look. I didn’t expect to find these two paintings so appealing, so I bought them.”

"."

Looking at the painting in front of them, Tian Xiwei and Zhang Ruonan were speechless.

Seeing their appearance, Lin Qingsong couldn't help but chuckle:

"Why are you worried I'll lose money? Don't worry, you definitely won't lose money!"

"If all else fails, it'll look nice hanging at home as a decorative painting."

Before we knew it, the photos were taken.

After connecting the camera to the computer, he sent the photos to Si Ruoxuan, adding a message he had seen in the intelligence report.

"By the way, I heard in New York that the owner of a contemporary art gallery is planning to sign emerging Chinese painters. If you have any suitable candidates, you might be able to recommend them."

After seeing the photos, Si Ruoxuan didn't care about the message and started examining the details of the photos one by one.

Ultimately, she still couldn't be too sure.

The details in the painting are indeed similar to the Hopper-style street scenes she had seen before.

However, there was no signature and no actual painting was seen.

The only possible explanation was that Lin Qingsong could bring the painting back.

She can help find other experts to conduct the assessment.

Actually, she was completely stunned when she received the message.

The main point is that if these two paintings were actually painted, Lin Qingsong would have really struck gold.

One painting is worth around one million, and two paintings will definitely exceed two million!

After a casual lunch, the three of them decided to visit Vivian on set. In the evening, they found Lisa and Eva and went to Lao Guan Pork Bone Congee in the back alley of the Golden Gate Supermarket in Chinatown for a meal.

The products produced by the system must be of high quality.

This restaurant may be in a slightly out-of-the-way location, but the food is absolutely delicious!

In the milky white porridge, every grain of rice is soaked with the rich aroma of pork, and upon tasting it, the starch in the rice gives it a savory sweetness.

Those pork bones, cooked until tender, are so soft that you can easily taste the meat falling off the bone with just a gentle bite.

The addition of the spiciness of pepper makes the flavor even richer and more delicious.

Although there weren't many side dishes, they were all classics.

Lin Qingsong ordered a basket of steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce and steamed dace balls with XO sauce for everyone, as well as a perfect side dish to accompany the porridge.

Stir-fried water spinach with minced garlic.

The refreshing taste of leafy greens perfectly balances the richness of the porridge, while the garlic flavor brings out its sweetness.

In short, he didn't know whether others enjoyed the meal or not.

But Lin Qingsong himself really enjoyed the meal.

It was the most comfortable meal he had during his trip to New York.

Thinking of Emily next door, Lin Qingsong specially asked the owner to pack a bowl of porridge and some chicken feet.

"Lin, I never imagined that a simple bowl of porridge could taste so good!"

Although Vivian doesn't have a Chinese palate, as a Frenchwoman she is quite knowledgeable about food. At this moment, she sat in the car, patting her belly with a satisfied expression.

Apart from her.

Lisa and Eva were alright, they didn't feel that much praise.

A Brazilian who likes to eat meat, and a Russian who likes to drink alcohol.

They might not be able to appreciate authentic Cantonese cooking methods.

Back to the hotel.

After washing up, Vivian, having had her fill of sex, wisely returned to her room to rest.

Tomorrow is the last day of New York Fashion Week, and also the day her show officially begins.

This is the case.

She certainly can't let herself get carried away by indulging in pleasure.

Lisa, on the other hand, has completely finished all her work at this fashion week.

With her joining us.

The group had essentially fought Lin Qingsong to a draw.

However, at midnight, Lin Qingsong, still wrapped in a bath towel, opened the door and handed the porridge to Emily, who had just rushed back.

I don't know how this editor can be so busy; he didn't get back to the hotel until midnight again today.

"Thank you!!!" Emily, carrying the porridge, said to Lin Qingsong with a big smile, "Are all Chinese men as considerate as you?"

Although she attended a dinner party, she barely ate anything except for a few sips of wine.

Lin Qingsong felt a strange urge to laugh when he heard Emily's words.

If all Chinese men were like me, there probably wouldn't be enough women in the whole world to go around.

But he didn't say much.

He simply smiled and gave Emily some instructions.

Tell her to ask the hotel staff to heat up the porridge and chicken feet before eating, otherwise the taste will definitely not be good.

After saying that, he hurried back to his room to continue his unfinished journey.

Bringing Emily porridge and side dishes was just a small interlude.

The important thing is to get that Brazilian warrior to surrender!
Emily, carrying the porridge, casually glanced into Lin Qingsong's room.

Just now, she heard the voices of two or three people.

I'm inexplicably curious, can Lin handle so many people all by himself?

Can he handle it?
However, when he thought about exercising with Lin Qingsong in the morning, he didn't seem to be suffering at all.

Emily felt that Lin Qingsong should be able to handle it.

After entering the house and putting down the porridge in her hand, she inexplicably walked to one side of the wall and listened for a while.

She then quickly left, her face flushed.

I realize that what I'm doing is really a bit sleazy.

There's only a couple of days left until we meet for dinner, no need!

After finishing her meal, shower, and work, Emily was about to go to sleep when, for some inexplicable reason, she pressed her ear against the wall and listened for a while.

hiss!
Not
brothers!

It's so late, and you're still going on!

She glanced at her watch and realized it was almost 2 a.m. She couldn't help but bite her lip.

Ruined.

When the day of the dinner appointment arrives, I'll be completely useless.

Inside the next room.

Zhang Ruonan was the first to surrender.

Immediately afterwards, Eva and Tian Xiwei also raised their hands.

Only Lisa persisted.

However, Lin Qingsong was still sensible, knowing that he would be going to Vivian's fashion show the next afternoon.

Around 4 PM, they called a retreat ahead of schedule, ending the battle.

While the others were sleeping.

Lin Qingsong remained lying in the bathtub, opening the system to check today's intelligence.

(End of this chapter)