Qin Guan stirred the cream in the Russian red soup. "So this is a low-budget film with an unknown future? Then I can roughly understand why you found me. "
Gus was embarrassed, but the more he looked at Qin Guan, the more he liked him. What Qin Guan said next made his heart jump out of his chest.
"I want to see the script. If it's good enough, I think I won't reject it as long as there's enough time."
"Oh, and your contract should be signed with my company in China. If there are no problems with these, I think we can still cooperate."
Gus had a good impression of Qin Guan, who was cutting his steak calmly. He was willing to devote himself to the film industry, regardless of the reward.
Qin Guan, on the other hand, wanted to get the script first. The shooting would take less than a few weeks, and it would take place in New York. That would be a free job and a free reward.
Both the host and the guest enjoyed themselves. The more they talked, the more congenial they became. If the script wasn't so bad, he would consider it a favor for his friend.
Just as the two of them were about to end the lunch in the corner, the sound of people leaving could be heard from the second floor. Some of the guests and some of the staff had to leave early.
A group of well-dressed middle-aged men from the Upper East Side walked down the stairs calmly. Occasionally, a few of them would be holding a beautiful and slender hand.
After CK's show, the models and tycoons hit it off with one purpose or another.
It was a game of mutual consent, and no one would criticize them too much. It was nothing more than a teasing tone, teasing an old friend of many years, and still maintaining a young heart.
It was the first time Qin Guan had seen the vanity fair of the New York fashion circle, but he didn't even raise his eyebrows.
But when he looked up again, he saw that among the group of young models with flattering smiles, there was a figure that he had saved.
Lisa, the young girl who was still a little immature, was now using her not-so-plump chest to completely stick to a man who had a calm temperament but was not young at all.
Qin Guan sighed and lowered his eyelids. Lisa, who had the potential and qualifications of a top model in his eyes, was ruined.
As a world-class model, you could have a passionate relationship with a romantic photographer, or have a midnight encounter with a sharp designer. You could also wander around the media in the fashion circle. You could even work with a big investor in the film industry.
But don't trust the conservative old gentlemen of the Upper East Side who played with finance. They saw you as young and clean, and naturally wouldn't allow you to ruin their shining moment when they discovered you.
Naturally, these young models would eventually be annihilated by the public because they had no choice but to compromise again and again.
Maybe they were just blinded by money. Maybe they were not fighting for their career.
Qin Guan smiled at the thought. It was just an appreciation for a model. He just smiled and let it go.
When Qin Guan left the Russian Tea Room, he shivered in the warm air. It was autumn there, just like in China.
Qin Guan didn't stop. Instead, he took a taxi to his next destination, Chelsea Street.
Chelsea Street was named after the famous Chelsea Hotel. The family, which had started its business in the hotel industry and was involved in many fields, was one of the richest families in both New York and the United States.
Qin Guan's destination was not the hotel, but the location of Chelsea Street.
Besides Times Square and Fifth Avenue in downtown New York, it was the best place for designers to build their small design studio.
The biggest designer fair in the United States, Chelsea Market, was located on 15th Street.
The market here was laid out like a shopping mall, with long corridors separating the market. Each shop had its own specialties, such as accessories, furniture, and decorative paintings. They were all created by original designers.
Of course, the market's value should not be underestimated. It was one of the most retro markets in the world. 300 years ago, it had been a trading place for the Agongan Indians. It was also the place where the Oreo biscuit had been invented.
Just these two things alone were enough to show how deep the foundation of this market was.
Qin Guan had gone there because J Clothing's vanguard had arrived. They had changed their habit of gathering at Fifth Avenue and the SOHO commercial district. Instead, they had chosen a building opposite the Chelsea Street Fair.
Qin Guan was curious. He wanted to know what the leader of J Clothing thought.
When they sat down in a simple open-air cafe, Qin Guan saw an acquaintance sitting opposite him. It was Guo Nuoyan, who had acted as his interpreter at the Wangfujing Store in Citizen.
The talented multi-lingual student had chosen J Clothing after graduation, which surprised Qin Guan.
Guo Nuoyan seemed to know what Qin Guan was thinking. He showed Qin Guan three fingers on his right hand naughtily, indicating the power of the money.
Qin Guan understood immediately. He smiled knowingly. He was a kindred spirit.
"The decoration will be finished in two days. The American workers get off work at six o'clock on time. They don't even want to work overtime. They are really lazy."
"If it were in China, it would have been finished half a month ago. Alas, I'm not familiar with the place and the people."
Qin Guan looked at the shop across the street. The curtains were wide and bright, and it was not a small shop.
"Why didn't you choose a store on Fifth Avenue or SOHO? It would have saved me a lot of trouble."
A strange expression appeared on Guo Nuoyan's face. He looked around at the passers-by. Most of them were young designers. He took out the latest J Clothing products from a paper bag under his feet.
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