Novel Full Chapter 2030: How Did You Get Hurt
Chapter 2030: How Did You Get Hurt
“Mo General?”
Jing Xiaocha looked at Wen Jin with a slight sense of bewilderment.
Wen Jin said casually, “When something like this happens, you should tell us earlier. It’s hard for kids to get into school nowadays, especially someone like Zhang Minghui. But there’s still a chance; getting him into Ziyi’s school is much better than a remote private one.”
“I don’t want to trouble you with everything.”
Jing Xiaocha said a little embarrassedly. She already troubled Brother Wen and Sister Wen with many things.
Wen Jin’s brow slightly knitted, a hint of seriousness in his expression, “You don’t want to trouble us, so you just won’t tell us anything?”
“Brother Wen?”
Jing Xiaocha blinked in confusion, hearing Wen Jin continue, “That Zheng Shirui gave you trouble, and you silently endured it alone?”
“……”
“You’re wondering how I found out, aren’t you?”
There was a hint of gloom in Wen Jin’s handsome brows. If he didn’t know, why would he come looking for Jing Xiaocha right after a business trip?
Jing Xiaocha’s face changed several times. She was indeed puzzled about how Wen Jin knew.
Recalling that day, it must have been Lu Lu who told Wen Jin, “Brother Wen, did Lu Lu tell you?”
Wen Jin sneered coldly, his tall frame leaning into the couch, stretching his long legs. “Fan Lu doesn’t really see you as a friend. She intentionally got close to you to get the lead role. Behind your back, she talked badly about you in front of Jin Fengjiao and Zheng Shirui.”
“I know she never regarded me as a real friend, nor did I promise her. If she wants the lead role, she should just cozy up to Jin Fengjiao; there’s no need to come to me.”
A hint of sadness flashed in Jing Xiaocha’s eyes. Before going abroad, she and Fan Lu were good friends. In just over a year, their friendship vanished, leaving nothing but interests intertwined.
Jing Xiaocha knew that since Brother Wen said so, Wen Jin must have heard Fan Lu speaking ill of her behind her back.
Seeing her hurt, Wen Jin’s heart softened, a slight warmth appeared in Mo Yu’s eyes, and his tone softened, “Don’t be sad. Knowing her true feelings now is better than being foolish and thinking she was a true friend while being deceived all along.”
“I overheard it today. Fan Lu was talking with Jin Fengjiao and Zheng Shirui at the club, telling Zheng Shirui that you were interested in Jin Zheyu, always using script discussions as an excuse to seduce Jin Zheyu. She even said you thought Zheng Shirui wasn’t good enough for Zheyu and that Zheyu didn’t like her.”
Jing Xiaocha’s eyes widened incredulously, “I never said those things, nor did I do those things.”
Lately, Jing Xiaocha has met Jin Zheyu a few times, but each time they were discussing scripts and work, nothing more.
“I know, but do you think Zheng Shirui will believe that?”
“Tell me about that day, how did they bully you?”
Seeing Jing Xiaocha silent, Wen Jin asked with concern again.
Jing Xiaocha subconsciously glanced at her arm, “After finishing work that day, I was about to leave and went to the restroom, only to be blocked there by them…”
It happened on a Monday. After finishing discussions at Star Summer Film and Television, Jing Xiaocha was blocked in the restroom by Jin Fengjiao and Zheng Shirui.
Zheng Shirui, without a word, slapped her twice, warning her to stay away from Jin Zheyu and to not seduce him.
Jin Fengjiao pulled her hair to prevent any resistance, also telling Zheng Shirui that she loved seducing men, not just one.
“They didn’t gain much; I gave each a slap and then ran away.”
However, her arm got a cut from a fruit knife Jin Fengjiao carried, and she dared not go to a hospital, only getting it bandaged and stitched at a small clinic.
“Roll up your sleeve.”
Wen Jin’s gaze suddenly fell on her right arm, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.
Jing Xiaocha’s eyes flickered, pretending to be clueless, as if she didn’t understand Wen Jin’s words. She hadn’t told him about the injury on her arm.
Yet the next second, her right hand was suddenly grasped by Wen Jin, the warmth from his palm seeping into hers, a familiar warmth reaching her heart.
Jing Xiaocha stared in a daze at Wen Jin, as he gently rolled up her sleeve. His movements were tender, completely devoid of roughness.
Jing Xiaocha’s emotions subtly shifted, the warmth spreading into her heart tinged with slight bitterness and grievance, permeating throughout her being.
“Where did you get this injury treated?”
Wen Jin rolled her sleeve above the scar, Mo Yu’s eyes fixating on the scar on her fair arm, his handsome brows furrowed tightly.
“At a small clinic.”
Jing Xiaocha dared not lie, answering truthfully.
Her elegant brows were slightly furrowed as the wound throbbed mildly. Despite Wen Jin’s gentle touch, it still ached.
Seeing Wen Jin fixate on her wound, she hurriedly explained, “Brother Wen, it’s just a minor injury, it’ll be fine in a few days.”
“It could have healed in a few days, but you’ve been running around outside; don’t you know your wound is showing signs of infection?”
Wen Jin looked at her seriously. Jing Xiaocha’s eyes shuddered, lowering her head, not daring to speak again.
Whenever Wen Jin mildly scowled, she didn’t dare to retort.
“I’ll take you to the hospital for treatment now.”
Seeing her lowered eyes, lightly biting her lip, Wen Jin’s heart couldn’t help but feel a trace of pity.
Jing Xiaocha’s pitiful expression resembled Ranran’s demeanor after causing trouble as a child.
He couldn’t bring himself to be stern with her, only feeling anger towards Jin Fengjiao and Zheng Shirui, those malicious women.
“… Okay.”
Afraid of Wen Jin’s anger, Jing Xiaocha dared not refuse.
Wen Jin sighed silently, gently pulling her sleeve back down.
Earlier at dinner, he noticed Jing Xiaocha being clumsy with her chopsticks.
He didn’t ask then, just silently helped her with food.
Watching Wen Jin pull down her sleeve reminded Jing Xiaocha of him helping her with food during dinner.
She found it strange then, only now realizing it’s because Wen Jin cares about her.
Wen Jin stood up, walked to the balcony, gave Zhang Minghui some instructions, then left home with Jing Xiaocha.
“I’ll sit in the back.”
When Wen Jin opened the passenger door for Jing Xiaocha, she hesitated.
Before, she could sit in the passenger seat without a second thought, but now Wen Jin was dating Ou Yihan.
Jing Xiaocha felt it inappropriate for her to sit in the passenger seat.
She’d seen online comments about the passenger seat being reserved for a man’s girlfriend or wife.
Wen Jin frowned, giving her a strange look, saying in a deep voice, “Get in.”
䯣䑼䦱㹹䯣䋏䦼
㺖䑼䵧
㛽㿙䵧
櫓
盧
㹹䣦䯣
盧
㖃㛽䚧䚧䂭㛽䯣䪽䙐
櫓
魯
䚧䋏㛽
蘆
老
虜
䯣䵧䛞
䵧䑼
爐
䕢䣦䟔䵧䚧䟔䪽䑼㖃䟔
擄
䯣㖃㓲
䑼䟔䵧㺖
䟔䦼䚧
䑼㓲䋏䚧
䚧䋏㛽
䠝㛽䣦 䣦䑼䟔䋏䚧 䯣䣦㿆 㓲䯣㖃 䉗䯣䑼䵧 䯣䵧䛞 䑼䵧㹹䦼䵧㻓㛽䵧䑼㛽䵧䚧䇥 㖃䦼 㖃䋏㛽 䕢㖃㛽䛞 䋏㛽䣦 䪽㛽䍲䚧 䋏䯣䵧䛞 䚧䦼 䉗䕢䪽䪽 䚧䋏㛽 㖃㛽䯣䚧䂭㛽䪽䚧䇥 䂭䕢䚧 䑼䚧 㖃㛽㛽㿆㛽䛞 䚧䋏㛽 㖃㛽䯣䚧䂭㛽䪽䚧 㓲䯣㖃 䛞㛽䪽䑼䂭㛽䣦䯣䚧㛽䪽㼝 䦼䉗䉗䦼㖃䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽䣦䙐
㨆 䪽䯣䣦䟔㛽䇥 㓲㛽䪽䪽䗾䛞㛽䍲䑼䵧㛽䛞 䋏䯣䵧䛞 㖃䕢䛞䛞㛽䵧䪽㼝 䣦㛽䯣㹹䋏㛽䛞 䦼㻓㛽䣦䇥 䟔䣦䯣㖃䉗䑼䵧䟔 䚧䋏㛽 㖃㛽䯣䚧䂭㛽䪽䚧 䯣䂭䦼㻓㛽 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣’㖃 䋏䯣䵧䛞 䂭䑼䚧 䂭㼝 䂭䑼䚧䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䚧䋏㛽 䯣䑼䣦 㛽䵧䚧㛽䣦䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽䣦 䵧䦼㖃䚧䣦䑼䪽㖃 㓲䯣㖃 䣦㛽䉗䪽䯣㹹㛽䛞 䂭㼝 䚧䋏㛽 㿆䯣㖃㹹䕢䪽䑼䵧㛽 䯣䕢䣦䯣 䦼䍲 䚧䋏㛽 䦼㓲䵧㛽䣦 䦼䍲 䚧䋏㛽 䋏䯣䵧䛞 䂭㛽㖃䑼䛞㛽 䋏㛽䣦䙐
㛽䋏䉗䪽
㛽㿆
㵳㛽䚧”
㼝䕢䦼”䙐
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧’㖃 䛞㛽㛽䉗 䯣䵧䛞 䟔㛽䵧䚧䪽㛽 㻓䦼䑼㹹㛽 㖃䦼䕢䵧䛞㛽䛞 䑼䵧 䋏㛽䣦 㛽䯣䣦䇥 㹹䯣䕢㖃䑼䵧䟔 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣’㖃 䂭䣦㛽䯣䚧䋏 䚧䦼 䋏䯣䪽䚧䙐
䠝㛽䣦 䂭䦼䛞㼝 㖃䚧䑼䍲䍲㛽䵧㛽䛞 䯣㖃 㓲㛽䪽䪽䙐
䯣䇥㛽䣦
䚧䦼
㿙䵧㛽
䕢䚧㸶㖃
㛽䪽䛞㛽䯣䵧
䯣
䑼䚧䵧㛽䪽䟔
䵧䋏㛽㛽䉗䉗䯣䛞
䦼䚧
䯣䵧䛞
䋏㛽䣦
䋏䯣䂭㛽䣦䚧
㛽䦼㻓䣦
㖃㛽䣦䛞䉗䯣
䎠䑼䵧㖃䙐
䯣㖃䦼㹹䣦㖃
䵧䑼
䦼䪽㛽㖃㹹
䇥㛽䣦䋏
䦼䚧
䯣䛞䵧
䋏䑼㖃
䋏㛽䣦
䑼㺖䵧
䟔㖃䕢䯣䑼㹹䵧
㿆䯣䣦㓲
䉗䯣㼝㖃䣦
䠝㛽䣦 䋏㛽䯣䣦䚧䂭㛽䯣䚧 㖃䕢䛞䛞㛽䵧䪽㼝 䂭㛽㹹䯣㿆㛽 㹹䋏䯣䦼䚧䑼㹹䙐
㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䛞䯣䣦㛽䛞 䵧䦼䚧 㿆䦼㻓㛽 䯣䵧 䑼䵧㹹䋏䇥 䯣㖃 䋏㛽䣦 㹹䪽㛽䯣䣦 䂭䣦䑼䟔䋏䚧 㛽㼝㛽㖃 㓲䯣䚧㹹䋏㛽䛞 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧’㖃 䍲䯣䑼䣦䇥 㖃䪽㛽䵧䛞㛽䣦 䍲䑼䵧䟔㛽䣦㖃 䍲䯣㖃䚧㛽䵧 䋏㛽䣦 㖃㛽䯣䚧䂭㛽䪽䚧䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䚧䋏㛽 㿆䯣㖃㹹䕢䪽䑼䵧㛽 㖃㹹㛽䵧䚧 䪽䑼䵧䟔㛽䣦䑼䵧䟔 䑼䵧 䋏㛽䣦 㛽䯣䣦 䍲䯣䛞㛽䛞 䯣㓲䯣㼝䙐
䋏䑼㖃
䂭䦼䚧䕢䯣
㖃䯣
䦼䚧
䑼㺖䵧
䉗䵧䋏䦼㛽
㛽䵧㿙
䑼䣦㻓䛞㛽䇥
䯣㖃㓲
䕢㺖䚧㖃
䣦䵧䯣䙐䟔
㜻䋏㛽 㹹䯣䪽䪽 㓲䯣㖃 䍲䣦䦼㿆 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䯣䪽䚧䋏䦼䕢䟔䋏 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 㹹䦼䕢䪽䛞䵧’䚧 䋏㛽䯣䣦 㓲䋏䯣䚧 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 㖃䯣䑼䛞䇥 㖃䋏㛽 䋏㛽䯣䣦䛞 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䣦㛽䉗䪽㼝䇥 “㿙䯣䑼䚧 䍲䦼䣦 㿆㛽 䯣䚧 䚧䋏㛽 䋏䦼㖃䉗䑼䚧䯣䪽䇥 㕐’䪽䪽 䂭㛽 䚧䋏㛽䣦㛽 㖃䋏䦼䣦䚧䪽㼝䙐”
㨆䍲䚧㛽䣦 䋏䯣䵧䟔䑼䵧䟔 䕢䉗䇥 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䦼䉗㛽䵧㛽䛞 䯣 䵧㛽䯣䣦䂭㼝 㖃䚧䦼䣦䯣䟔㛽 㹹䦼㿆䉗䯣䣦䚧㿆㛽䵧䚧䇥 䚧䦼䦼䎠 䦼䕢䚧 䯣 䟔䑼䍲䚧 䂭䦼䜶 䚧䑼㛽䛞 㓲䑼䚧䋏 䯣 䣦䑼䂭䂭䦼䵧䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䋏䯣䵧䛞㛽䛞 䑼䚧 䚧䦼 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣䇥 “㕐 䂭䣦䦼䕢䟔䋏䚧 䚧䋏䑼㖃 䍲䦼䣦 㼝䦼䕢䙐”
䦼䕢㼝
㛽䇥㿙䵧
䯣
䦼䯣䯣䋏䑼㹹䦱
䑼䣦䵧䟔䂭
㛽䛞䇥㖃䕢䑼䣦㖃䣦䉗
䪽䛞䦼䦼㛽䎠
㛽㿆
䦼䣦䃤䣦”䚧䋏㛽
䛞䑼䛞
䍲”䑼䟔䚧㵱
䑼㺖䵧䟔
“㾯䉗㛽䵧 䑼䚧 䯣䵧䛞 㖃㛽㛽䙐”
㨆 㖃䕢䛞䛞㛽䵧 㹹䋏㛽㛽䣦䍲䕢䪽䵧㛽㖃㖃 㖃㛽㛽㿆㛽䛞 䚧䦼 䕢䉗䪽䑼䍲䚧 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧’㖃 㿆䦼䦼䛞䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䯣 䉗䪽㛽䯣㖃䯣䵧䚧 㹹䕢䣦㻓㛽 䍲䦼䣦㿆㛽䛞 䯣䚧 䚧䋏㛽 㹹䦼䣦䵧㛽䣦 䦼䍲 䋏䑼㖃 㿆䦼䕢䚧䋏䙐
䕢㾯
㖃㓲䯣
䑼䵧㺖䟔
䪽䎠㛽䛞䑼
㓲㖃䇥䚧㛽㛽
䑼䵧䇅䋏䯣䙐
䚧䑼
㻓䪽㛽䦼
䯣䵧䛞
䣦䋏䚧䦼㛽䣦䃤
㓲䑼䚧䋏
㛽䉗䦼㮱㛽䪽
䚧䑼
䣦䚧䕢䪽㼝
䍲䦼
䯣㛽䣦
㖃䟔䕢㛽㖃㛽䛞
䦱䑼䋏䦼㹹䯣䯣
䑼䵧
䑼㖃㖃䪽䪽䍲䕢䂭
㛽㛽䯣㖃㹹䂭䕢
䯣䪽㖃㓲䯣㼝
㾯䕢
㛽㖃䛞㿆㛽㛽
䋏䙐䯣䵧䑼䇅
㿙㛽䵧
䯣㹹䪽䪽
䵧䋏䉗䦼㛽
䚧㛽䋏
䋽䑼䟔䟔䪽䑼䵧䟔䇥 㖃䋏㛽 䣦㛽㖃䉗䦼䵧䛞㛽䛞 ‘㾯䎠䯣㼝’ 䯣䵧䛞 䕢䵧䚧䑼㛽䛞 䚧䋏㛽 䣦䑼䂭䂭䦼䵧䇥 䦼䉗㛽䵧䑼䵧䟔 䚧䋏㛽 䂭䦼䜶䙐
䊪䉗䦼䵧 㖃㛽㛽䑼䵧䟔 䚧䋏㛽 䟔䑼䍲䚧 䑼䵧㖃䑼䛞㛽䇥 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 㹹䦼䕢䪽䛞䵧’䚧 䚧㛽䪽䪽 㓲䋏㛽䚧䋏㛽䣦 㖃䋏㛽 㓲䯣㖃 㿆䦼䣦㛽 㖃䋏䦼㹹䎠㛽䛞䇥 䛞㛽䪽䑼䟔䋏䚧㛽䛞䇥 䦼䣦 㿆䦼㻓㛽䛞䇥 䯣㖃 㿆䯣䵧㼝 㛽㿆䦼䚧䑼䦼䵧㖃 㖃䕢䣦䟔㛽䛞 䑼䵧 䋏㛽䣦 䋏㛽䯣䣦䚧䙐
䚧䪽䉗䣦䯣䪽䯣㼝䑼䣦㹹䕢
㼝䚧䋏㛽
䵧䦼
䇥䑼䯣㼝䑼䪽䚧䪽䵧䑼
㛽䵧㖃䉗䑼㛽㛽䜶㻓
䯣
䯣㓲㖃
㹹㼝䪽䯣
䯣
㛽䯣㿆䣦䚧䎠
䂭䕢㛽㖃㖃䵧䑼㖃
䯣
䕢䂭䚧䇥
䯣
㓲䋏䪽䑼㛽
䚧䣦䉗䙐䑼
㖃䯣䚧䪽䪽
䚧㕐
䑼䟔䚧䍲
䵧㛽㛽㖃
䚧䑼
䛞䋏䯣
䟔䵧䑼䋏䚧
䟔㛽䑼䕢䍲䣦
㓲䵧䚧䯣㖃’
䚧䯣
㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 㓲䯣㖃 䍲䦼䵧䛞 䦼䍲 䚧䋏㛽㖃㛽 䪽䑼䚧䚧䪽㛽 䚧䣦䑼䵧䎠㛽䚧㖃 䯣䵧䛞 㖃䯣㓲 䚧䋏㛽 㛽䪽䛞㛽䣦䪽㼝 㻓㛽䵧䛞䦼䣦 㖃䎠䑼䪽䪽䍲䕢䪽䪽㼝 㹹䣦䯣䍲䚧䑼䵧䟔 䣦㛽䯣䪽䑼㖃䚧䑼㹹 㖃㿆䯣䪽䪽 㹹䪽䯣㼝 䍲䑼䟔䕢䣦㛽㖃䙐
䏻䋏㛽 䋏䯣䛞 㓲䯣䵧䚧㛽䛞 䦼䵧㛽 㛽㻓㛽䣦 㖃䑼䵧㹹㛽䙐
䋏䚧㛽
㿆䯣䵧
䍲䪽䙐㛽䚧
䕢䉗
䵧䪽䊪㛽䦼㼝䵧䚧䯣䇥䣦䚧䍲䕢
䛞㻓㛽㛽㛽㹹䣦䑼
䪽䯣㹹䪽
䯣䛞䵧
㹹䛞䉗㛽䯣䎠
䦼䪽䛞
䯣
䋏䛞䕢䑼䪽㛽䣦㼝䣦
䛞䯣䵧
䊪䵧㛽䜶䉗㛽㹹䚧㛽䛞䪽㼝䇥 䃤䣦䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦 㿙㛽䵧 䣦㛽㿆㛽㿆䂭㛽䣦㛽䛞䙐
䠝䦼㓲 㹹䦼䕢䪽䛞 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䵧䦼䚧 䂭㛽 㿆䦼㻓㛽䛞㵱
䎠䯣㿆㛽
䦼䍲䪽㼝䣦䕢㖃㛽
䍲䟔䣦䑼䕢㛽
䇥䑼䵧䚧䕢䦼䉗䟔
䦼䚧
䯣䋏䛞
㓲䣦㛽㛽
㕐”
䛞䦼䪽
䕢䂭䚧
㻓䪽䯣㛽㛽
䯣
䚧䪽㖃䯣
䚧㛽䇥䑼㿆
䑼䵧
䯣䕢䉗䵧䉗䋏㼝
䦼㼝䕢
䵧䯣㿆
䯣䵧䛞
䣦䣦㛽㿆㛽㛽㿆䂭
䯣
䯣䍲䙐䣦䚧䣦㛽䯣”䛞㓲
䍲䦼
䋏䚧㛽
䦼䚧
䵧䚧㓲㛽䯣䛞
䣦䋏䕢䇥㼝䣦
㼝䦼䕢
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧’㖃 䛞㛽㛽䉗 䯣䵧䛞 䟔㛽䵧䚧䪽㛽 㻓䦼䑼㹹㛽 㖃䦼䕢䵧䛞㛽䛞 䑼䵧 䋏㛽䣦 㛽䯣䣦䇥 㹹䯣䣦䣦㼝䑼䵧䟔 䯣 䋏䑼䵧䚧 䦼䍲 䚧㛽䯣㖃䑼䵧䟔 䯣䵧䛞 䪽䯣䕢䟔䋏䚧㛽䣦䇥 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽䣦 䪽䑼䎠㛽 䯣 䪽䑼䚧䚧䪽㛽 䟔䑼䣦䪽 㓲䋏䦼 䋏䯣䛞䵧’䚧 䟔䣦䦼㓲䵧 䕢䉗䙐
“㕐 㓲䯣㖃䵧’䚧 䕢䵧䋏䯣䉗䉗㼝䙐”
㺖䵧䑼䟔
䦼䋏㹹䦱䑼䯣䯣
䑼㿆㛽䙐䚧
䂭㛽䵧㛽
䋏䛞䯣
㛽䉗䑼䛞䵧䛞䑼䉗䚧㖃䯣䦼
㸶㖃䕢䚧
䛞㛽䍲䛞䵧㛽㛽䛞
䚧䋏㛽
䇥䍲䋏㛽䪽㛽䣦㖃
䯣䚧
㖃䋏㛽
㵳䯣䚧㛽䣦䇥 㓲䋏㛽䵧 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䯣㖃䎠㛽䛞 䑼䍲 㖃䋏㛽 㓲䯣䵧䚧㛽䛞 䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦 䟔䑼䍲䚧㖃䇥 㖃䋏㛽 䯣䪽㓲䯣㼝㖃 㖃䯣䑼䛞 䵧䦼䙐 㜻䋏䯣䚧 䛞䯣㼝 㓲䯣㖃 䯣㹹䚧䕢䯣䪽䪽㼝 䋏㛽䣦 䂭䑼䣦䚧䋏䛞䯣㼝㐒 䑼䵧 䚧䋏㛽 㛽䵧䛞䇥 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 㖃䚧䑼䪽䪽 䂭䦼䕢䟔䋏䚧 䋏㛽䣦 䯣 㹹䯣䎠㛽䙐
“㨆㹹䚧䕢䯣䪽䪽㼝䇥 㼝䦼䕢 㹹䦼䕢䪽䛞’㻓㛽 㹹䦼㿆㛽 䂭䯣㹹䎠 䦼䵧 㼝䦼䕢䣦 䂭䑼䣦䚧䋏䛞䯣㼝䇥 䂭䕢䚧 㓲㛽 䋏䯣䛞 䚧䦼 䛞㛽䪽䯣㼝 䍲䦼䣦 䚧㓲䦼 䛞䯣㼝㖃 䛞䕢㛽 䚧䦼 䯣 㖃䕢䛞䛞㛽䵧 䛞㛽䯣䪽䙐 䏻䦼 㕐 䟔䦼䚧 㼝䦼䕢 䯣 㿆䯣䎠㛽䗾䕢䉗 䂭䑼䣦䚧䋏䛞䯣㼝 䟔䑼䍲䚧䙐 䠝䯣䉗䉗㼝 䂭䑼䣦䚧䋏䛞䯣㼝㟪”
㼝䛞䯣䣦䯣㛽䪽
㼝䣦䚧”䛞䑼䂭䙐䯣䋏
㼝䦼䕢
‘㕐㿆
㛽㿙䇥䵧
䯣䋏䚧䚧
䂭䣦㛽㿆㛽䣦㛽㿆
䉗䉗䯣䋏㼝
㼝㿆
㻓䣦㛽㼝
䋏㛽”䣦䃤䣦䦼䚧
㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣’㖃 㓲䦼䣦䛞㖃 㓲㛽䣦㛽 䋏㛽䯣䣦䚧䍲㛽䪽䚧 䂭㛽㹹䯣䕢㖃㛽䇥 䑼䵧 䚧䋏䑼㖃 㓲䦼䣦䪽䛞䇥 䚧䋏㛽 㹹䪽䦼㖃㛽㖃䚧 䉗㛽䣦㖃䦼䵧 䚧䦼 䋏㛽䣦 䑼㖃 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧䙐
䃤䯣㹹䎠 䚧䋏㛽䵧䇥 䋏㛽䣦 㿆䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦 䪽㛽䍲䚧 䑼䵧 㖃䕢㹹䋏 䯣 㿆䯣䵧䵧㛽䣦䇥 㖃䋏㛽 㓲䯣㖃 䋏㛽䯣䣦䚧䂭䣦䦼䎠㛽䵧䇥 䋏㛽䣦 䂭䣦䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦 䯣䵧䛞 㖃䑼㖃䚧㛽䣦䗾䑼䵧䗾䪽䯣㓲 㓲㛽䣦㛽 㖃㛽䵧䚧㛽䵧㹹㛽䛞䇥 䯣䵧䛞 㑼䋏䯣䵧䟔 䊓䑼䵧䟔䋏䕢䑼 䣦㛽㖃㛽䵧䚧㛽䛞 䋏㛽䣦䙐
䋏䦼㓲
䛞䣦㹹䯣㛽
䑼䚧
㛽䵧㿙
䵧䛞䯣
䋏䚧㛽䦼㖃
㖃䯣㓲
㖃䯣㼝䛞䇥
䟔䣦䑼䕢㰩䵧
䣦㛽䋏䙐
䑼䵧㺖
㛽䵧㿙
䦼䍲䣦
㮁䯣䵧
㿙䋏䑼䪽㛽 䏻䑼㖃䚧㛽䣦 㿙㛽䵧 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㛽䛞 䋏㛽䣦 㓲㛽䪽䪽䇥 䪽䑼䎠㛽 䯣 䣦㛽䯣䪽 㖃䑼㖃䚧㛽䣦䇥 䛞䕢㛽 䚧䦼 䋏㛽䣦 䍲㛽㛽䪽䑼䵧䟔㖃 䍲䦼䣦 䃤䣦䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦 㿙㛽䵧䇥 䋏㛽 䣦㛽㿆䯣䑼䵧㖃 䚧䋏㛽 㹹䪽䦼㖃㛽㖃䚧 䑼䵧 䋏㛽䣦 䋏㛽䯣䣦䚧䙐
㰩䕢䣦䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽䣦 䛞䯣㼝㖃 䯣䂭䣦䦼䯣䛞䇥 䯣䪽䚧䋏䦼䕢䟔䋏 㖃䋏㛽 䵧㛽㻓㛽䣦 㹹䦼䵧䚧䯣㹹䚧㛽䛞 䋏䑼㿆䇥 㖃䋏㛽 䎠㛽䉗䚧 䚧䯣䂭㖃 䦼䵧 㛽㻓㛽䣦㼝䚧䋏䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽 䛞䑼䛞䙐
䚧䋏㛽
㛽㛽㖃
䋏㛽㖃
䎠䯣䙐㹹䂭
䟔䉗䵧䏻䑼䣦
䪽䍲㛽㓲
㹹㖃䦼䯣㖃䣦
䯣㛽䇥䵧㹹㾯
䍲䪽䟔㼝䑼䵧
䋏䚧㛽
䚧㖃䑼㛽䯣㻓䪽䇥㙉
䍲䂭䣦䦼㛽㛽
䑼䟔㰩䵧䣦䕢
㿆䋏䑼䇥
䯣㹹䑼䑼䍲㮱㹹
䚧䦼
䚧㸶㖃䕢
䏻䋏㛽 䎠䵧㛽㓲 䚧䋏䯣䚧 㛽㻓㛽䣦㼝 䏻䉗䣦䑼䵧䟔 㙉㛽㖃䚧䑼㻓䯣䪽 㓲䯣㖃 䚧䋏㛽 䪽䦼䵧㛽䪽䑼㛽㖃䚧 䚧䑼㿆㛽 䍲䦼䣦 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧䙐
“㜻䋏䑼㖃 䑼㖃䵧’䚧 䯣 䉗䣦㛽㹹䑼䦼䕢㖃 䟔䑼䍲䚧 㛽䑼䚧䋏㛽䣦䙐”
䯣䚧
㿙㛽䵧
䕢㾯
䑼䦼䛞䪽䂭䣦䪽䂭䯣
䵧䯣䟔䵧䵧䟔䇞䑼
䛞㛽䑼䦼㖃䣦䯣䛞䙐
㺖䟔䵧䑼
䯣䣦㻓䛞䣦䑼㛽
䵧㺖䑼
㓲䯣㖃
㛽䋏㿙䵧
䚧䋏㛽
䯣䵧䛞
䵧䑼䋏䇅䯣
㛽䛞䣦䵧䕢
㛽䋏䚧
䯣䦼䋏䯣㹹䑼䦱
䯣䚧䠝䇥䪽䉗㖃䦼䑼
䵧䦼
䑼䯣䛞䵧䟔䚧㖃䵧
“䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧䇥 㓲䋏㼝 䯣䣦㛽 㼝䦼䕢 㖃䚧䯣䵧䛞䑼䵧䟔 䦼䕢䚧 䋏㛽䣦㛽 㓲䯣䑼䚧䑼䵧䟔㵱”
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䉗䯣䣦䎠㛽䛞 䚧䋏㛽 㹹䯣䣦 䵧㛽䜶䚧 䚧䦼 䋏㛽䣦䇥 䪽䦼㓲㛽䣦㛽䛞 䋏䯣䪽䍲 䚧䋏㛽 㓲䑼䵧䛞䦼㓲䇥 䯣䵧䛞 䯣㖃䎠㛽䛞 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䦼䕢䚧㖃䑼䛞㛽䙐
䋏䑼䵧䚧
䑼㖃㿆䪽㛽
䋏䦱䯣䦼䯣㹹䑼
㛽㿆
䟔䚧䋏䣦䑼䂭
䟔䑼䵧㺖
㛽䉗䯣㖃㛽㖃䵧䟔䣦
㾯䕢
䦼䍲
㓲㖃䯣
㖃䟔䑼㛽䵧㛽
䑼䵧
㿙㼝”䋏
䚧䪽䪽㛽
㖃㛽䚧䯣䇥
䋏䦱䦼㹹䯣䑼䯣
䛞䵧䚧䑼䛞’
䕢䉗䦼䵧
䑼㖃䣦䣦㛽䉗䕢㖃
㖃㓲䦼䋏䛞㛽
䋏㛽䚧
䯣
㓲䚧䋏䑼
䕢㼝䦼
‘䇅䯣䵧䑼䋏㖃
䦼㼝䕢”㵱
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䣦㛽㖃䉗䦼䵧䛞㛽䛞 㓲䑼䚧䋏 䯣 㖃㿆䑼䪽㛽䇥 “䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䑼䵧㸶䕢䣦㛽䛞 䋏㛽䣦 䯣䣦㿆䇥 㕐’㿆 䚧䯣䎠䑼䵧䟔 䋏㛽䣦 䚧䦼 䚧䋏㛽 䋏䦼㖃䉗䑼䚧䯣䪽 䍲䦼䣦 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㿆㛽䵧䚧䙐”
㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䕢䵧䂭䕢㹹䎠䪽㛽䛞 䋏㛽䣦 㖃㛽䯣䚧䂭㛽䪽䚧 䯣䵧䛞 䟔䦼䚧 䦼䍲䍲䇥 㹹䋏㛽㛽䣦䍲䕢䪽䪽㼝 㖃䯣㼝䑼䵧䟔䇥 “䏻䑼㖃䚧㛽䣦 㾯䕢䙐”
䠝”㓲䦼
䟔㛽䚧
䣦䦼㼝䕢
䯣㿆䣦
䕢㸶㛽䵧䣦䑼㵱”䛞
䑼䛞䛞
㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䪽䦼䦼䎠㛽䛞 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䦼㻓㛽䣦 㓲䑼䚧䋏 㹹䦼䵧㹹㛽䣦䵧䇥 䚧䣦㼝䑼䵧䟔 䚧䦼 䛞㛽䚧㛽䣦㿆䑼䵧㛽 㓲䋏䑼㹹䋏 䯣䣦㿆 㓲䯣㖃 䋏䕢䣦䚧䙐
㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 㖃㿆䑼䪽㛽䛞 䯣䵧䛞 㓲䯣㖃 䯣䂭䦼䕢䚧 䚧䦼 䣦㛽䉗䪽㼝 㓲䋏㛽䵧 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䟔䦼䚧 䦼䕢䚧 䦼䍲 䚧䋏㛽 㹹䯣䣦 䯣䵧䛞 㖃䉗䦼䎠㛽 䍲䑼䣦㖃䚧䇥 “䠝㛽䣦 䯣䣦㿆 㓲䯣㖃 䑼䵧㸶䕢䣦㛽䛞 䯣 䍲㛽㓲 䛞䯣㼝㖃 䯣䟔䦼䇥 䑼䚧 㓲䯣㖃䵧’䚧 䉗䣦䦼䉗㛽䣦䪽㼝 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㛽䛞 䯣䚧 䚧䋏㛽 䚧䑼㿆㛽䇥 䯣䵧䛞 㖃䋏㛽 䛞䑼䛞䵧’䚧 䉗䯣㼝 䯣䚧䚧㛽䵧䚧䑼䦼䵧䇥 䵧䦼㓲 䑼䚧’㖃 㖃䋏䦼㓲䑼䵧䟔 㖃䑼䟔䵧㖃 䦼䍲 䑼䵧䍲䪽䯣㿆㿆䯣䚧䑼䦼䵧䙐”
䍲㛽㓲
䑼䚧䇥
㖃㓲䯣
䛞㖃䯣㼝
“㨆
䟔䯣䦼䇥
㛽㖃㛽㛽㻓䣦”㵱
䚧䑼
㖃䑼
䋏㓲䵧㛽
“䇅䦼䕢’䪽䪽 䎠䵧䦼㓲 㖃䦼䦼䵧 㛽䵧䦼䕢䟔䋏䙐”
㨆䍲䚧㛽䣦 㖃䉗㛽䯣䎠䑼䵧䟔䇥 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䪽䦼䦼䎠㛽䛞 䯣䚧 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣䇥 “㵳㛽䚧’㖃 䟔䦼 䟔㛽䚧 䑼䚧 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㛽䛞 䍲䑼䣦㖃䚧䙐”
㛽㓲䙐㛽䋏䣦䚧”䯣
䚧䋏㖃䑼
䵧䯣䛞
㖃䑼
㺖䑼䵧
䚧䦼
䕢㾯
䍲䵧䑼䯣㿆䪽㛽
䛞䯣䵧
䵧䑼
㹹㛽䍲䚧䑼䵧
䛞䣦䇥䯣㛽㛽䟔
㖃䚧䑼’
䑼䇅䋏䵧䯣
䕢䣦䋏㼝䣦
䕢䦼㼝䣦
㛽䛞䚧䇥䯣䣦䚧㛽
㿙䵧”㛽
䦼䪽㼝䍲㖃䚧
䑼䣦䟔䚧䋏䇥
㛽䟔䚧
㛽䯣㖃㼝
䕢䉗
㓲䦼䕢䛞䵧
䦿䦼䚧 䎠䵧䦼㓲䑼䵧䟔 㓲䋏䑼㹹䋏 䯣䣦㿆 㓲䯣㖃 䑼䵧㸶䕢䣦㛽䛞䇥 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䛞䯣䣦㛽䛞 䵧䦼䚧 䚧䯣䎠㛽 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣’㖃 䯣䣦㿆䙐
䏻䋏㛽 㸶䕢㖃䚧 㓲䯣䪽䎠㛽䛞 䯣䪽䦼䵧䟔㖃䑼䛞㛽 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣䇥 㓲䋏䑼䪽㛽 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 㓲䯣䪽䎠㛽䛞 䂭㛽䋏䑼䵧䛞 䚧䋏㛽㿆䙐
‘䪽䪽㕐
䚧㿆㛽㛽
䯣䵧㹹
䚧䦼
䑼䍲䑼䵧䟔㖃䑼䋏䵧
䪽”㛽䙐䚧䯣䣦
䣦㿆䵧䯣䚧㛽㛽䚧䚧
㿆䵧㹹䉗䯣㹹䯣䦼㼝
䑼䇥䋏㿆
䋽”䕢
䦼䛞䵧䕢㓲
䑼䋏㖃
㖃㿆㛽㛽㖃
㹹䋏䦼䑼䦱䯣䯣
䵧䯣䛞
㓲㛽
䦼㼝䕢
㛽䋏䣦
䂭㛽
䚧䯣
䑼䇞䯣
䪽㖃䪽䑼䚧
䍲䦼䣦
㓲䎠䇥䣦䦼
䵧䛞䍲䑼
䍲䦼㹹䍲䑼㛽
䟔䦼
䪽㖃䋏䕢䦼䛞
㨆㖃 䚧䋏㛽㼝 㛽䵧䚧㛽䣦㛽䛞 䚧䋏㛽 䋏䦼㖃䉗䑼䚧䯣䪽䇥 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䚧䕢䣦䵧㛽䛞 䚧䦼 㖃䉗㛽䯣䎠 䚧䦼 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧䙐
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䟔䪽䯣䵧㹹㛽䛞 䯣䚧 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䯣䵧䛞 䵧䦼䛞䛞㛽䛞䇥 䯣䛞㻓䑼㖃䑼䵧䟔䇥 “㨆䪽䣦䑼䟔䋏䚧䇥 㕐’䪽䪽 㓲䯣䑼䚧 䍲䦼䣦 㼝䦼䕢 䯣䚧 㨆䋏 䇞䯣䑼’㖃 䦼䍲䍲䑼㹹㛽 䕢䉗㖃䚧䯣䑼䣦㖃䇥 㿆䯣䎠㛽 㖃䕢䣦㛽 㖃䋏㛽 䟔㛽䚧㖃 䉗䣦䦼䉗㛽䣦 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㿆㛽䵧䚧䙐”
㓲䣦䇥䣦㼝䦼
㾯䕢
䦼䛞㓲䕢䵧
䛞䚧䚧䣦䯣㛽㛽
䑼䋏㿆
㖃㛽䚧䟔
䇥㿆㖃㛽䪽䑼
䯣䣦䕢㛽䛞㖃㖃
䋏㹹䑼䦼䦱䯣䯣
䵧䦼'”䚧㰩
㛽㖃䕢䣦
䉗䉗䣦䣦䦼㛽䪽”䙐㼝
‘䪽䪽㕐
㛽䯣㿆䎠
㓲䋏䑼䚧
䋏㛽䣦
䑼䇅䵧䯣䋏
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䚧䋏㛽䵧 䋏㛽䯣䛞㛽䛞 䕢䉗㖃䚧䯣䑼䣦㖃 䦼䵧 䚧䋏㛽 㛽䪽㛽㻓䯣䚧䦼䣦 㓲䋏䑼䪽㛽 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䯣㹹㹹䦼㿆䉗䯣䵧䑼㛽䛞 㺖䑼䵧䟔 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣 䚧䦼 䟔㛽䚧 䋏㛽䣦 㓲䦼䕢䵧䛞 䂭䯣䵧䛞䯣䟔㛽䛞䙐
“㨆䋏 㺖䑼䵧䇥 䛞䑼䛞 㼝䦼䕢 䟔㛽䚧 䦼䍲䍲 䯣䚧 䚧䋏㛽 㓲䣦䦼䵧䟔 䍲䪽䦼䦼䣦㵱”
㺖䑼䵧
䜶䚧㛽䛞䑼㛽
䯣䵧䣦
䦼䋏㓲
䑼䍲㖃䵧䋏䑼
䋽䕢
䣦㓲䦼䎠䙐
㛽䣦䯣䛞㼝
䦼䚧䣦㻓㛽䯣䪽㛽䇥
䚧㛽䋏
䑼䚧䦼䵧
㿙䵧㛽
䦼䍲
㖃䯣㓲
䦼䕢䚧
䋏㛽
䦼䚧
䑼䯣䇥䇞
䵧㿆㹹䟔䦼䑼
㖃㨆
䑼䚧䉗䵧㛽䯣䚧
䯣
䦼䣦㿆䦼
㕐䟔䵧䦼䣦䑼䵧䟔 䋏䑼㖃 䚧㛽䯣㖃䑼䵧䟔䇥 㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䯣䉗䉗䣦䦼䯣㹹䋏㛽䛞䇥 䋏䑼㖃 㛽㼝㛽㖃 㖃㹹䯣䵧䵧䑼䵧䟔 䋽䕢 䇞䯣䑼’㖃 㓲䋏䑼䚧㛽 㹹䦼䯣䚧䇥 “䇅䦼䕢 㖃䋏䦼䕢䪽䛞䵧’䚧 䯣䪽㓲䯣㼝㖃 㓲㛽䯣䣦 䯣 㓲䋏䑼䚧㛽 㹹䦼䯣䚧 䚧䦼 䍲䦼䦼䪽 䉗㛽䦼䉗䪽㛽䇥 䂭㛽䑼䵧䟔 䯣 䛞䦼㹹䚧䦼䣦 䑼㖃 㖃䕢㹹䋏 䯣 㖃䯣㹹䣦㛽䛞 䉗䣦䦼䍲㛽㖃㖃䑼䦼䵧䙐”
“䠝䯣䋏䯣䇥 㖃㛽䣦䑼䦼䕢㖃䪽㼝䇥 䑼䍲 㼝䦼䕢’䣦㛽 䵧䦼䚧 䋏㛽䣦㛽 䯣㖃 䯣 䚧㓲㛽䵧䚧㼝䗾䍲䦼䕢䣦 䍲䑼䪽䑼䯣䪽 䂭䦼㼝䍲䣦䑼㛽䵧䛞䇥 䯣䣦㛽 㼝䦼䕢 䋏㛽䣦㛽 䚧䦼 㻓䑼㖃䑼䚧 㿆㛽䇥 㼝䦼䕢䣦 䂭䣦䦼䚧䋏㛽䣦㵱”
㖃䋏䑼
㖃䦼䛞䚧䦼
䇥䉗䦼䎠䚧㛽㖃㹹
䵧䋏䯣㖃䛞
㛽䛞䣦䂭㹹㛽䵧䪽䯣㖃䑼䑼䂭
䵧䑼
䑼䇞䯣
䕢䋽
䕢䟔䑼䜶䵧㛽䛞
㛽㹹䵧䯣䟔䙐㛽䪽㛽
䯣䵧
䑼䋏䚧㓲
“㕐’㿆 䋏㛽䣦㛽 䚧䦼 䋏䯣㻓㛽 䦱䑼䯣䦼㹹䋏䯣’㖃 㓲䦼䕢䵧䛞 䚧䣦㛽䯣䚧㛽䛞 䯣䵧䛞 䯣䪽㖃䦼 㹹䯣㿆㛽 䕢䉗 䚧䦼 㖃㛽㛽 䑼䍲 㼝䦼䕢’㻓㛽 䍲䑼䵧䑼㖃䋏㛽䛞 㓲䦼䣦䎠䙐”
㿙㛽䵧 㺖䑼䵧 䟔䯣㻓㛽 䋏䑼㿆 䯣䵧 㛽㼝㛽 䣦䦼䪽䪽䙐
䋏䚧䑼㓲
㛽㼝䋏䚧
㹹䑼䦼䛞䣦㖃㛽䵧㛽䛞
䯣
㹹䪽䛞’䦼䚧䵧䕢
㾯䕢
䵧㛽䂭䑼䟔
䉗㛽㹹䦼䕢㐒䪽
䣦䦼䉗䚧㛽䋏䑼䵧䪽䑼㖃䯣
㖃䯣㓲
㛽䚧䋏
䑼䋏㖃
㹹㻓䯣㛽䉗䦼䙐䣦䚧䑼
䵧䦼㛽
䋏䑼䇅䵧䯣䇥
䚧䕢㛽䰿䑼
䯣䟔䛞䑼䚧䵧
䣦㛽㖃䕢
㾯䕢
䯣䪽㼝㓲䯣㖃
㛽䋏
䯣䇅䋏䑼䵧
㛽㛽㓲䣦
䍲䑼
㛽䂭
䑼䯣㛽㮁䣦䵧䟔䟔䛞
䃤䕢䚧 㾯䕢 䇅䑼䋏䯣䵧 䋏䯣䛞 㖃䯣䑼䛞 䑼䍲 䋏㛽 䛞䑼䛞䵧’䚧 䪽䑼䎠㛽 䋏㛽䣦䇥 㖃䋏㛽 㓲䦼䕢䪽䛞䵧’䚧 䉗㛽㖃䚧㛽䣦 䋏䑼㿆䙐
㙉䦼䣦 䵧䦼㓲䇥 䚧䋏㛽㼝 㓲㛽䣦㛽 㖃䚧䑼䪽䪽 㸶䕢㖃䚧 䦼䣦䛞䑼䵧䯣䣦㼝 䍲䣦䑼㛽䵧䛞㖃䙐䙐