readease Chapter 5 Submission
Chapter 5 Submission
In America, everyone inevitably falls into two professions: private lawyer and private doctor.
Without the former, you would find that America is truly a country with extremely strict laws. For example, in California, where Ernst is now, let alone being caught in the act, even removing the car keys before entering the premises is considered prostitution.
But with a lawyer, things are different. Even if you get caught, it's just a matter of emotional exchange between a man and a woman.
Private doctors are even more important, so important that they can ensure you have a hospital to admit you as soon as you get sick, even if you just have a fever or a cold.
Doesn't that sound ridiculous? A fever or a cold can be treated at any clinic in China, but not in America.
Almost every family in America has a family doctor, but you can forget about waiting for a family doctor to come to your home for a check-up.
If he schedules an appointment with you today, you should be grateful if he can get you a medical check-up tomorrow.
The key issue is that after all the tests, even if you get some medicine for a minor illness, you still need to make an appointment to buy the medicine elsewhere.
If it's a serious illness, the appointment time for treatment can be so long that you won't even have time to make an appointment before you die from the onset of the illness.
This is a family doctor, not a private doctor, which is where the importance of spending more money becomes apparent.
Paying more money will allow you to book an appointment at a major hospital and receive immediate treatment.
"Wenger, how's the situation?"
As soon as Ernst got home, he received a call from Wenger.
Wenger was Garfield's personal lawyer, and later, after Ernst made money, his father recommended Wenger to him.
"The matter is settled. The other party has no evidence to prove that you had a forced relationship. And I have shown you intimate videos of you shopping together. We have the upper hand."
"Phew," Ernst let out a long breath, adjusted to a comfortable sitting position, and his tone became much more relaxed.
"Good job, I'll transfer your payment to you soon."
Private lawyers don't offer annual contracts; each service session incurs an additional fee.
"Ernst, I think you should tone it down a bit. You're not a child anymore. I think if Galins were alive, he wouldn't want to see you like this."
Garlins is Ernst's adoptive father, and his relationship with Wenger is not only that of an employee, but also that of very good friends since university.
Therefore, Wenger could lecture Ernst; he was like Ernst's godfather, and he had the right to do so.
"knew".
He gave a brief reply, told Wenger to clean up the mess, and then hung up the phone.
Back in his study, sitting in front of the computer, Ernst recalled clips from the Hunger Games movies he had watched.
It must be said that Ernst was quite talented at writing. The movie in his memory was just a super outline, while the novel was filled with much more content. Ernst tried his best to describe every scene in the movie with the most appropriate vocabulary.
In comparison, the character descriptions and dialogues are much simpler.
Time flows like a stream under a small bridge, fleeting like a white horse galloping past a crack in the wall; it passes by unnoticed and never returns.
When Ernst saw Craig again, the first thing Craig said broke Ernst's composure.
"Should we call your personal doctor? Your excessive indulgence is too obvious."
Ernst rolled his eyes. "You're the one who's indulging in excessive sex. Your whole family is indulging in excessive sex."
However, my current appearance is indeed not good. I have a stubble beard and clearly visible dark circles under my eyes. I have only slept for four or five hours in four consecutive days. Even a 24-year-old body cannot take it.
It's not that I don't cherish my body, but rather that my thoughts are flowing freely.
Ernst finally understands why so many authors die suddenly: when inspiration strikes, it's impossible to sleep; when the body is excited, one just wants to write.
It's not bad, at least I finished the first part, which is quite fulfilling.
"for you"
"What?" Craig took the printed Hunger Games manuscript, puzzled.
"The novel? Take it to the publisher and hand it in."
Craig's expression was somewhat unpleasant. "Ernst, while I'd like you to get back to writing quickly, it can't be a half-hearted effort. You know, there's a huge difference in income between bestsellers and regular works."
"These things aren't just affecting you, they're affecting my income too. I haven't visited Maria in a long time."
Maria is Craig's lover, and anyone can get into her bed as long as they bring a gift.
"I think your big-butt secretary with the tongue piercing is more suitable for you; at least he doesn't have to pay extra."
"Oh, no. Her tongue piercing always makes me want to ejaculate, which makes me feel very unmanly."
Ernst felt a chill run down his spine, and images flashed through his mind instantly.
Craig sat in the boss's chair, with his 200-pound black female secretary squatting in front of him.
He shook his head, turned and walked towards the bathroom. "You should take a look first."
After a comfortable hot shower and a shave, he instantly transformed back into a clean-cut young man.
When he returned to the living room, he was greeted by Craig's hearty laughter.
"Baby, I love you. Come into my arms and let me love you properly."
Craig's expression was extremely lewd, and he even kissed the printed manuscript twice.
"You love the dollar, you love Maria who can get into bed with anyone, you love that bitch with the butterfly tattoo under Coney Avenue."
"It's all the same, you're just like them. I guarantee this Hunger Games will make your name, Ernst Garfield, known throughout North America again. You're a genius, a born writer."
Ernst didn't want to become some great writer, someone who would make money but have no time to spend it.
"Wait? How do you know that bitch on Connie Avenue has a butterfly tattoo? She said I'm her only lover."
Craig realized what was happening and thought, "Fuck, this little bitch actually lied to me."
Ernst wasn't interested in his lover, and he didn't know whether she had lied to Craig or not. But for a contestant who didn't wear underwear and often wore short skirts with her crotch wide open, it was hard not to know.
"Stop talking nonsense. Have you found the nanny I asked you to find?"
"A nanny? That's not easy to find. There aren't many people who can cook Chinese food to begin with, and even fewer young ones. And I estimate that it would be hard to find someone young who can also satisfy your appetite all over the United States."
"Wait," Ernst raised his hand to interrupt him, "I told you to find someone who can cook Chinese food, who said it had to be young?"
Ernst really didn't want to hire a young person; young people have only been cooking for a few years, and experience is a problem.
But Craig's next words caused Ernst to spit out the water he had just taken a sip of.
"Older women? Ernst, when did you change your tastes and become interested in older women? Didn't you say they were too relaxed..."
"Cough cough," Ernst coughed twice, choking on the water, and then cursed, "Are you an idiot? I need a nanny, not a bitch."
"But didn't you say before that you would wear a maid outfit, cook in the kitchen, and then you would be behind her..."
"Get lost."
Ernst kicked out, but the opponent nimbly dodged it.
Holding the manuscript, Craig ran to the door, repeatedly assuring everyone before leaving that he would definitely not make a mistake this time.
"Actually, it's not bad to still have charm. Maria gave me a great sensory experience."
Craig wanted to say something more, but instead, he was met with a flying pillow and a water bottle.