48 Hours a Day - Chapter 1413 - Salon
Library

Chapter 1413 - Salon

Chapter 1413: Salon

Zhang Heng opened his eyes and found himself in a slightly dim alley.

At the end of the road was a small brick-like building that was tall on both sides. It looked to be quite old. Zhang Heng could only infer from the construction materials and style that this was a post-19th century building.

He was not in a hurry to enter. Instead, he looked around and saw pedestrians pa.s.sing by the alley in a hurry, vendors selling cigarettes, and the grocery store across the street. Just as he was about to continue looking.., suddenly, there was the sound of thunder in the sky, signaling that a storm was coming.

Zhang Heng didnt stay where he was. Finally, he made his way to the small brick building.

The building was much quieter than Zhang Heng had imagined. There was only orange light coming through the door, and there wasnt much noise.

Zhang Heng knocked on the door.

A moment later, a middle-aged man who looked like a butler poked his head out of the door. How can I help you?

Ive received an invitation to join the Salon.Zhang Heng paused. He looked past the middle-aged man to the living room behind him and realized that it was empty, there were no guests.

Sorry, am I early?

No.The middle-aged man smiled. The salon has already started, but its not here. Can I see your pledge?

Pledge?Zhang Heng frowned slightly. On the way here, he had already checked his pockets. Other than the props that he had brought with him, he did not find anything else. However, Zhang Heng quickly thought of something, he took out Conan Doyles pen.

The Butler took the pen, put on his gla.s.ses, and looked at it carefully. Then, he handed it back to Zhang Heng respectfully with both hands. Welcome to the House of geniuses. Please follow me.

Zhang Heng followed the butler-like middle-aged man into the house. Then, the two of them walked through the living room and into the courtyard, the butler-like middle-aged man opened a dark cellar that looked like the kind of cellar used by the main character in horror movies when the main character was imprisoned. Then, he made a gesture of invitation.

Are you serious?Zhang Heng raised his eyebrows.

Dont look at me. Bluffing and dramatizing have always been the authorsfavorite.The butler-like middle-aged man shrugged. To be honest, Ive never really understood this kind of evil taste.

Hearing that, Zhang Heng looked at the Big Iron Lock at his feet again. There were some red stains that looked like blood stains on it.

Dont worry, the paint made from ochre.

Very impressive,Zhang Heng commented.

Without hesitation, he strode in.

It had to be said that although the atmosphere in front of the cellar door was scary, the environment inside was actually not bad. It was slightly damp, but the air was clear. Other than the smell of soil, there was no strange smell.

For a tunnel, there was nothing more one could ask for.

The two of them walked for about five minutes before the terrain began to rise again. Then, the middle-aged man, who looked like a butler, stopped in front of an iron ladder and handed the oil lamp in his hand to Zhang Heng for safekeeping, he pushed the cover of the well above his head open.

At this time, Raindrops had already fallen from the sky. The two of them returned to the street from underground. Just as they climbed out, Zhang Heng saw a carriage by the roadside.

The middle-aged man, who looked like a butler, took the oil lamp back from Zhang Hengs hand. I can only accompany you here. Next, Martin will send you to the Salon.

Martin? Is this a joke from The Adventures of a goose? What about you? I didnt ask for your name before.

Kansel.The middle-aged man, who looked like a butler, smiled and then bowed again. I sincerely wish that your thoughts will flow like a fountain every day.

20,000 miles under the sea, as expected. Thank you.

After bidding farewell to consel, Zhang Heng boarded the carriage. When he closed the door, the coachman, Martin, also grabbed the reins in his hands.

The moment Zhang Heng got on the carriage and smelled the fragrance of Jasmine, he began to feel drowsy. However, this kind of drowsiness was different from inhaling a large amount of anesthetic. Zhang Heng knew that he could wake up at any time, this was more like a pastime that he had prepared because he was worried that his journey would be too boring.

Therefore, Zhang Heng also relaxed his body. He leaned his head against the carriage and took a short nap.

After an unknown period of time, the carriage stopped again.

This time, it stopped on a lawn. Martin opened the door for Zhang Heng. What appeared in front of Zhang Heng was a huge mansion. This mansion was built halfway up the mountain, and it took up an astonis.h.i.+ng amount of land.

Zhang Heng only took a quick glance, and all he saw was a garden, a swimming pool, a forest, and even a golf course.

This time, standing in front of the door to greet him was a female housekeeper, but she was exceptionally short. She was less than four feet tall, pet.i.te, and had pointy ears, but she had a pair of big feet, she moved without making a sound.

A name immediately appeared in Zhang Hengs mind.

hobbit.

This was a fantasy race created by the English writer and poet Tolkien in his novel, the Lord of the rings.

It seems that you have recognized my origin, the most expensive guest,the female hobbit Butler said. I just dont know how to address you.

Without waiting for Zhang Heng to speak, she added, Theres no need to tell me your real name. Everyone here uses their pen names or the names of the characters in their books.

Zhang Heng.

The female hobbit Butler revealed a surprised expression.

Actually, Im preparing a novel. This is the name of the protagonist of my new novel,Zhang Heng said lightly.

Then Im sure youll find a lot of inspiration here,the female hobbit Butler said as she opened the door behind her.

This time, before entering the door, Zhang Heng heard a chaotic sound coming from inside.

If you ask me, every popular novel is a book. Theyre all dog Sh * t! The author of the popular novel is the dog that produces SH * t. the only thing they know how to do is to wag their tails and ingratiate themselves with the publics terrible aesthetic and abnormal appreciation! Its because of them that the threshold of this industry has been lowered infinitely,a resounding male voice said.

I dont agree, Mr. b.a.s.t.a.r.d. The purpose of our writing is not to be enemies with the public. I dont deny that some of the excellent works of the super-era were seriously underestimated at that time. However, you cant hate the authors who earn money just because you didnt earn much money when you were alive,a strong female voice said.

No Doubt, Im talking about you, Professor mcgonagall, and you and all that writing just proves it!