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Chapter 2 The Murdered Accountant

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    ?

    ? When Zhang Luo came to the teahouse where they met, Ertou Lian and the others and Party A's introducer Wang Liangyu had already arrived.

    Seeing the frog porridge shop next door to the teahouse, Zhang Luo felt uncomfortable.  She is most afraid of toads, but here, on the way from the street to the teahouse, there is a row of wire cages more than ten meters long, filled with gray frogs, crowded and wriggling in the cages.

    "It'sunlucky."

    Although Zhang Luo said this, he also knew in his heart that frog porridge shops and frog cages are another characteristic of Singapore, which cannot be avoided as long as he walks in the streets and alleys.  Fortunately, there is no Toad Street in the teahouse.

    The second floor of the tea house is basically the same as the front hall on the first floor. There are small tables one by one covering the whole place, only the back is separated by a large screen made of bamboo and Nyonya style.  Behind this partition is a big Eight Immortals table, made of decent huanghuali wood, and the eight chairs have the same old style.

    In the middle, sat a middle-aged man with a fairy air, he was resting with his eyes closed.  The second-in-command Mr. Lian led the project manager and on-site manager, and sat on both sides of the introducer.

    The introducer, Wang Liangyu, was the youngest of the men, only in his early thirties, with a shiny gold Rolex watch on his left hand.  "Mr. Lian, my uncle believes in Mr. Duan the most."

    The uncle he talks about is Mr. Huang, the owner of the real estate company of Party A of the Wuli Project, a boss from Putian, Fujian. He is very superstitious. He heard that he will go to Thailand seven or eight times a year to worship various gods.  Zhang Luo was very curious about how such a person would take over the land of the Wu Li project with a small scary temple.

    Ertou glanced at Zhang Luo, but ignored her.  Zhang Luo hurriedly sat down at the bottom with a sense of humor.

    "Mr. Duan, the small temple on our project" The project manager also only looked at Daxian and the introducer.

    "I know that the new general manager of your company entered the hospital on the first day of the project." Mr. Duan picked up his Pu'er and took a sip.  "If you don't deal with it, I'm afraid you won't be able to start work. If you keep procrastinating, according to the contract between your company and Mr. Huang, you will be fined again. It's a dilemma." Mr. Duan really understood after inquiring.

    "So?"

    "With my magic power, I can protect you all. It's just my fee. I don't know what your company thinks?" Mr. Duan talked about money without even blinking.

    Wang Liangyu quickly spoke for Mr. Duan: "50 SGD"

    so cheap?  Then the four heard the most terrifying part of the sentence: "per square foot."

    "Sir, the fee is calculated according to the area of ??the small temple, no, the area of ??our site?" the site manager asked, as if he was Mr. Duan's babysitter.

    Wang Liangyu explained in a low voice: "It is calculated based on the built-up salable area."

    These words are like throwing a piece of soft soap from the height of the 32nd floor, and it still kills people:

    ? The total contract of the entire construction project is more than 300 million Singapore dollars, and the construction cost is less than 500 Singapore dollars per square foot of salable area.  According to the introducer, what Daxian wants is more than 10% of the contract amount, 40 million Singapore dollars?  !

    Zhang Luo's heart skipped a beat.  She has worked in the construction industry for more than ten years, and is also responsible for the accounting of accounts, and has seen many things big and small.  When I first heard this number and remembered Google's evasive attitude, I understood a little bit.  It may be that someone made a trick, trying to use the feng shui fee of the small temple to wipe out the accounts of the leaders stealing from the public, and make another profit by the way.

    The second head glanced at the project manager, and the last on-site manager protested loudly and wisely: "How can this work? If we pay this cost for a project that is not profitable in the first place, we will lose money."

    The project manager lowered his eyes, but the corners of his eyes wandered between his subordinates and the second head.

    Zhang Luo tasted the drama in it.

    Sure enough, when Mr. Duan heard this, he didn't argue, picked up his mobile phone on the table, and was about to leave, just like the aunts bargaining in the vegetable market.

    "I also took care of Mr. Huang's face and tried to lose Yangshou, so I took care of this matter. Don't you know that the one enshrined in that small temple is a person who became a monster more than 1,000 years ago?! Please Mr. Wang  Tell Mr. Huang, it's not that I don't help him."

    Zhang Luo took a sip of tea and thought, "Just make it."  Although someone called the "Miss Jia" in the small temple, the small shed was so dilapidated that one, two, three, four could not be seen.

    Seeing that Zhang Luo was silent, the second head suddenly saw her: "Hey, Xiao Zhang, why didn't you Mr. Gu come? Don't you use things like financial managers?!"

    When the on-site manager heard this, he quickly stopped the "Master" and said, "Is this¡ª¡ªshould we pay after we successfully complete the project?"

    Mr. Duan"Ah! Accountant Zhang¡ª¡ª"

    The on-site manager's voice drifted away in Zhang Luo's ears.

    The financial manager, Google, was on the other end of the phone, also anxious, shouting: "What's the matter, what's the matter?"

    After half an hour, the second and third heads, and several princes under the former number one's command were all numb.  They originally wanted to use the legend of this small temple to cover up their shortfall of public funds, and by the way, drag the finances into the water, telling them not to expose the small ledger in front of the new leader.

    Now the financial managers are not workers. If something happens, there may be a lawsuit for human life. This is a great disaster.

    The princes immediately remembered that in the hospital, there was also the leader who was airborne.

    "Mr. Liu, Zhang Luo, the financial manager, accompanied Party A to the project, but was hit by a collapsed shed and sent to the hospital for emergency treatment."

    "Huh?" Mr. Liu didn't expect to encounter such a big event when he first came to Singapore: "Are you awake now?"

    The two heads and three heads kept silent, and they didn't know.  Even the emergency hospital didn't know.

    Zhang Luo, who was still trying to protect himself in the afternoon, was still on the ventilator in the emergency room of the hospital.  But Zhang Luo's own mind was awake, she looked at the ceiling above her head, it seemed to be getting higher and higher, and patterns gradually appeared, there were red peony patterns and green vines, traced with golden lacquer lines,  It is very similar to the algae wells and corridors seen in the pavilions in the park when I was traveling in spring and autumn when I was a child.

    She instinctively knew that it was impossible for the leaders to send herself to such a luxurious and retro private hospital.  But no matter how she closed or opened her eyes, the pattern was always in front of her face, and it became more and more clear.  Then, she heard the cry of the magpie, which became farther and farther away in the empty land.

    Could it be that I am dreaming, that I have gone to heaven, that I have traveled through time?

    Suddenly, a big dirty hand pressed on his face.

    Although this story contains sentences that seem to be "fantasy" and time-traveling, it is actually a gray comedy based on realism.  Dear friends, please leave a lot of comments. Writing alone is not as fun as discussing with everyone.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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