Huayu: Don't force me to be a master

Chapter 123 Arrival in New York

The wind howls, and the Yi River is cold.

This is Qian Lang's first time going abroad in two lifetimes.

When the plane landed, he glanced out the window.

The lights of New York spread out in the night, densely packed, like a vast golden circuit board.

It has no boundaries, no end, and is completely different from BJ.

BJ is square, like a chessboard, with straight lines.

Of course, people have different perspectives and different philosophical thinking, so we can't have too high expectations of them.

The plane began to taxi.

The moment Qian Lang stepped off the plane, his heart began to race.

It wasn't because of nervousness or excitement.

Rather!

in the country, his conscience still remains.

After more than 10 hours of flying, it seems he left his conscience in the Pacific Ocean.

"free!"

Qian Lang chewed on those two words, and the corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

There was a very long queue when we went through customs.

One by one, the people in front of him went past, and by the time it was his turn, almost an hour had passed.

A large Black man sat at the customs window, his uniform stretched taut, his face drooping.

He flipped through Qian Lang's passport, looked at his face, and then asked something in English.

Qian Lang smiled and nodded.

Then he said something.

"MLGB!"

Old Hei smiled at him too.

Stepping out of the terminal, a night breeze blew by, carrying a damp chill.

Zhang Ying stood outside the arrival gate, wearing a beige trench coat, her hair disheveled by the wind, peeking inside on tiptoe.

When she saw him, she waved and then smiled.

"Have you been waiting long?"

Qian Lang pushed the luggage cart over.

"good."

Zhang Ying took a bag from his hand.

"Just two hours."

The two walked outside.

The wind picked up, and Zhang Ying wrapped her trench coat tighter and hunched her shoulders.

Qian Lang walked beside her, looking at the low-hanging clouds above, and suddenly felt that this place wasn't so unfamiliar after all.

I got into a taxi, and the heater was blowing blasts inside.

She turned her head and glanced at him.

"What's it like coming to the United States for the first time?"

Qian Lang leaned back in his seat, looking out the window at the brightly lit John F. Kennedy Airport.

In the distance, an airplane was taking off, its roar gradually fading into the clouds.

"I saw, I conquered!"

-----------------

Instead of heading towards Midtown Manhattan, the car drove through Queens, crossed a bridge, and entered a quiet neighborhood.

The buildings on both sides of the road are not tall, with red brick walls and fire escape staircases, and occasionally you can see one or two small shops with their lights on.

"Where is this?"

Qian Lang asked.

"The East Village, near NYU. I'll rent you a place; it's a ten-minute walk to the school."

Qian Lang nodded.

The taxi stopped in front of a six-story red brick building.

The two got out of the car together.

Zhang Ying then led him into the house.

"Third floor, south-facing, good natural light during the day. There's a Korean supermarket and a pizza shop downstairs, and the subway station is a five-minute walk away."

Zhang Ying talked as she walked.

"Not living with you?"

Qian Lang asked from behind her.

"Sure, I'll have your mom go to my house to propose marriage later. As long as my mom agrees, that's fine."

"Never mind then, I'm afraid your mom will make her stand as punishment!"

"Hahaha."

The two went into the room as they talked.

The house wasn't big, but it was very clean.

It's a one-bedroom apartment with a small kitchen that can only accommodate one person, but it's fully equipped with a stove, refrigerator, and microwave.

There was a folding table and two folding chairs in the living room. The bedroom window faced south, and moonlight streamed in, falling on the bare mattress.

"Just make do with it, I've rented it to you for a month."

"Okay, that's good."

Qian Lang is not someone who has never experienced hardship.

His childhood conditions, or rather, the living conditions of his generation when they were young, were all quite ordinary.

"The equipment, actors, and venue are all prepared according to your requirements. I've also contacted the editing team."

Zhang Ying said this while helping him pack his luggage.

"Yes, thank you for your hard work."

"That's more like human speech. Okay, I'm leaving!"

"Okay, you can go back now. I can manage on my own."

"Yeah, don't go out fooling around at night. Foreign women aren't for you."

Qian Lang rolled his eyes, smiled, and saw her out of the apartment.

After Zhang Ying left, he continued packing his things and then went into the bathroom.

About half an hour later, there was another knock on the door.

The door opened, and there was Zhang Ying again.

"Just eat this, I don't have money to treat you to a fancy meal."

It turns out she went to buy pizza.

Ok.

Perhaps this woman's surprise return was to see if Qian Lang was behaving himself.

The two ate and chatted together, and Zhang Ying didn't leave until half an hour later.

It was only then that Qian Lang contacted people back home to let them know he was safe.

I slept without any dreams.

The weather was nice in New York the next day.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the bare mattress and illuminating the entire room.

Qian Lang woke up before seven o'clock and lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a while.

Pigeons flew past the window, their wings flapping clearly in the quiet morning.

At 7:30, there was a knock on the door.

Qian Lang opened the door, and Zhang Ying stood there, holding two paper cups of coffee and a paper bag. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wasn't wearing makeup.

"morning."

She handed him the coffee.

"Just grab something to eat, then head to school."

The two ate two pieces of bread with their coffee and then went out.

The mornings in Dongcun are quiet, with few people on the streets except for a few residents walking their dogs and sanitation workers sweeping fallen leaves.

There was a cool smell in the air, mixed with the aroma of coffee and toasted bread.

New York University is right next to the East Village; it's just over ten minutes' walk from where Qian Lang lives.

The campus was small and had no walls. The teaching buildings were scattered throughout the streets. If Zhang Ying hadn't pointed and said, "This is the library," "This is the teaching building," Qian Lang wouldn't have been able to tell which was the school and which was an ordinary street.

Zhang Ying led him into a gray building, where various performance posters and course notices were posted in the corridor.

Go up to the third floor, push open a door, and you'll find a small rehearsal room, about 30 or 40 square meters, covered with a light gray carpet, with a mirror hanging on the wall, and a few folding chairs and music stands piled in the corner.

"Is this the venue?"

Qian Lang asked.

"no."

Zhang Ying shook her head.

"This is just a place for you to meet the actors."

I rented an apartment in Brooklyn for filming. The landlord was away on vacation and it was vacant for a month, so we lent it to them.

Qian Lang nodded without saying anything.

He walked to the window and looked at the street outside.

Zhang Ying stood behind him without saying a word.

About ten minutes later, the door was pushed open.

Two people came in, a man and a woman, both looking to be in their early twenties.

The man was short, with brown curly hair, wearing black-rimmed glasses, a gray hoodie, and a backpack.

The woman was half a head taller than him, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile on her face. She was wearing a white sweater and jeans.

"Micah, Katie."

Zhang Ying pointed to them and introduced them.

"Students in the drama department at New York University."

Qian Lang smiled slightly, which was his way of greeting him.

Then Zhang Ying spoke a few words to them in English, the gist of which was that Qian Lang was a director from China who was making a low-budget horror film.

Micah listened attentively, nodding occasionally;

Katie was a little curious and glanced at Qian Lang a couple more times.

"Ask them if they believe in ghosts?"

Qian Lang said.

Zhang Ying asked the question as instructed.

Micah laughed and shrugged.

Katie shook her head as well.

Qian Lang touched his nose.

"Tell them that, and in three days they will believe you."