185: Perfect Jianxin

The air conditioning in Vientiane City was strong, making it a completely different world from the scorching heat outside.

The air was filled with a faint white tea aroma, mixed with the cool scent of freshly polished marble floor tiles.

Lin Que held a newly bought iced Americano in his hand, following behind his parents.

Today, Lin Jianguo specifically wore the navy blue T-shirt he only brought out for formal occasions.

Although he was sweating profusely, his back was ramrod straight.

Wang Xiulian had her hair permed and wore a dark green dress.

She carried the bag Lin Que had given her before, walking with a spirited stride.

"Son, what do you think of this place?"

Lin Jianguo pointed to a shop with exquisite suits displayed in its window, and a string of cursive English written on the signboard above the door.

Lin Que glanced at it, an Italian first-tier menswear brand.

"Mom and Dad, you really don't need to be so formal."

Lin Que took a sip of his coffee, trying to cool down his parents.

"No way!"

Wang Xiulian immediately turned around, her gaze more serious than a College Entrance Examination proctor.

"Tomorrow we're going to the capital! And it's for the national finals!"

This is the first time our Old Lin family has produced a wenqu star who can go to the capital for the imperial examination. This is called... what is it called?"

"Imperial Palace Examination," Lin Jianguo added solemnly from the side.

"Right! Imperial Palace Examination!"

Wang Xiulian slapped her thigh.

"Then shouldn't we dress presentably? We can lose the battle, but not our dignity. Although we're not rich and powerful, we can't let those people in the capital look down on us."

Lin Que felt a bit helpless and amused, but seeing his parents' earnestness, his heart softened again.

Entering the store, the sales assistant, who was initially tidying the clothes racks, looked up and saw the situation.

A middle-aged couple, dressed slightly out of fashion but impeccably clean,

leading a tall, handsome young man.

The sales assistant had a sharp eye.

She immediately saw that the young man's demeanor was extraordinary; it was a relaxed confidence that came from having seen the world.

"Sir, Madam, are you looking for formal wear for your son?"

The sales assistant immediately came forward, her smile appropriate.

"Bring out your best here."

Lin Jianguo waved his hand grandly, with a rather commanding air.

"Something dignified, something that can command the stage."

Half an hour later.

The fitting room curtain opened.

Lin Que walked out.

He was wearing a dark blue slim-fit suit, the exquisitely tailored fabric conforming to his physique, his shirt collar crisp, and his cufflinks gleaming silver.

The somewhat lazy youthful air he usually had was instantly reined in by this outfit.

He stood tall and straight like a pine tree, with a sharp heroic spirit emanating from his brows.

The sales assistant's eyes lit up, and she praised him sincerely:

"He was practically born for this suit; he looks even more dashing than the models in our catalog."

Wang Xiulian covered her mouth, her eyes instantly reddening.

She stepped forward, stood on her tiptoes,

and meticulously straightened Lin Que's already neat collar, her hands trembling slightly.

"So handsome."

Wang Xiulian's voice was a little hoarse.

Lin Jianguo stood by, hands behind his back, scrutinizing him several times.

The smile on his face couldn't be suppressed, and finally, he simply nodded heavily:

"Alright, this is the one! This is how someone doing great things should look!"

Lin Que looked at himself in the mirror, also a little dazed.

This appearance indeed looked the part.

"Bill it."

Lin Que's fingers touched the cold card in his trouser pocket.

That was his current confidence, and also the tool he originally intended to use to maintain his parents' dignity.

He instinctively wanted to pull out the card.

He didn't want his parents to empty their already thin wallets for these few pieces of fabric.

He was about to hand the card to the sales assistant.

A rough hand intervened, firmly blocking his wrist.

"What are you doing?"

Lin Jianguo glared, his brows furrowed.

"Swiping the card."

Lin Que said matter-of-factly.

"Put it back!"

Lin Jianguo's large hand clamped down on his son's wrist like a pair of pliers, his brows knitted into a knot, his tone firm:

"Having money is your ability. But this outfit today, your mom and I must pay for it."

Lin Que was stunned for a moment:

"Dad, I'm currently..."

"I know you can earn money, but no matter how much it is, you worked hard, staying up late typing out every word."

Lin Jianguo pushed Lin Que's hand back, then took out his old wallet, which he had used for several years, from his embrace.

Lin Jianguo opened the wallet, inside neatly stacked with a pile of brand new pink banknotes.

It was clear he had specifically gone to the bank to withdraw them before coming, and even the seal was freshly broken.

"This money is your 'battle robe' money from Mom and Dad."

Lin Jianguo said, counting the money with his head lowered.

"You going to the capital for the competition is a big deal. Your mom and I can't help much, and we don't understand writing. But this outfit, we must be the ones to provide it."

He looked up at his son, who was half a head taller than him, with a clumsy stubbornness in his eyes:

"What kind of parents make their child pay for their own clothes?"

Lin Que's fingers curled, clutching the cold black card, suddenly feeling it was burning hot.

Wang Xiulian smiled and smoothed things over from the side:

"Just let your dad pay. For this money, your dad emptied out all his private savings.

Besides, we're not freeloaders now."

"Huh?"

Lin Que was a bit surprised.

"Your dad and I."

Wang Xiulian said with a proud expression.

"At the newly built Public Library in our community. I'm the administrator, and your dad is responsible for organizing the bookshelves and maintaining order. The sub-district office pays us, and we even have social security!"

Lin Jianguo finished counting the money, handed the thick stack of banknotes to the sales assistant, and turned to Lin Que with a grin:

"That job is easy, and there's air conditioning. You wouldn't believe it, all the young people who come to read now are discussing that Jian Shen Cup champion.

Your mom and I listen nearby, and we feel so proud, we almost wanted to tell them that the Great Master is my son!"

Lin Que looked at his father's slightly stiff hands as he counted the money,

and at the radiant glow on his mother's face from feeling "useful."

So that's how it was.

They didn't want to live in the big house their son bought and be useless people who only enjoyed life.

They found a job related to books, even if it was just organizing bookshelves, to get a little closer to their son's world.

This stack of warm cash was their dignity, and also their way of loving.

Lin Que silently put the black card back into his pocket.

"Alright."

Lin Que smiled, his eyes curving.

"Then I'll wear this battle robe and bring back a good ranking."

The sales assistant took the stack of warm cash to the cashier,

and the whirring sound of the machine spitting out the receipt was exceptionally clear in the quiet store.

Only then did Lin Que take out the phone that had vibrated several times in his pocket.

The screen lit up, showing over a dozen unread messages, all from his editor, Hong Hu.

[Hong Hu]: Great Master! Urgent matter! Director Director Guo Changhe from Perfect Jianxin has been negotiating with us for three days!

[Hong Hu]: He said that if he can't contact the Dream Weaver himself, he won't give up. He said he must make

the

soul ferry

into a film, otherwise it would be a waste of heavenly resources... Lin Que looked at the words "Perfect Jianxin" and "Director Guo Changhe" on the screen, his pupils contracting slightly.

Memories from his previous life instantly surged forth.

That team that created a web drama legend, producing astonishing supernatural effects with extremely low costs.

That director who understood Zhao Li, understood Dongqing, and even more, understood that rough yet refined Oriental horror aesthetic.

The gears of fate finally meshed perfectly at this moment.

"Dad, Mom, I'm going to the restroom."

Lin Que handed his iced Americano to his mother and turned to walk deeper into the mall.

Turning into the restroom, Lin Que stood in front of the sink and turned on the faucet.

Cold water washed over his fingers as he looked at himself in the mirror.

The dark blue suit made him look nothing like a seventeen-year-old high school student.

That sharp edge, somewhere between a boy and an adult, was fully revealed at this moment.

He dried his hands, picked up his phone, and typed with one hand.

[Hell Dream Weaver]: Push me to him.

Less than ten seconds after the message was sent.

A new friend request popped up.

The avatar was an old-fashioned film camera, with a messy set of tracks in the background.

The verification message was long and humble: