The director put on a bathrobe and stepped on the expensive camel-hair carpet with his wet bare feet. He opened the door and saw a well-dressed Chinese man standing outside. "Excuse me, who are you looking for?" he asked in English. Asher Luo looked at the house number and thought it was right: "Are you Director Walslot?" Asher Luo asked in his broken English.
Walslott nodded. He noticed that Asher Luo was wearing Givenchy cufflinks on his cuffs, with the tortoise shells glittering. Rich people are always respected wherever they are. Walslott believed that directors needed money to live, so he followed this principle. So although he looked down on China, he still respected someone who was qualified to wear Gucci.
"That's good." Asher Luo showed a reassuring smile, walked in uninvited, and sat down on the sofa in Walslot. He frowned: "I'd better call an interpreter." He immediately dialed the room service number and called up a lobby manager of the hotel.
Walslot was shocked by his recklessness and thought he had encountered the Chinese mafia. He stood aside in a daze and dared not speak. The lobby manager came up and apologized: "Mr. Walslot, I'm so sorry..." Asher Luo interrupted him: "I have something to discuss with this director. I will say one sentence and you will translate it."
The lobby manager was stunned, but still translated Asher Luo's words obediently. Walslot nodded gloomily. Asher Luo said: "I have some money in my hand and want to make an investment. I heard that making movies is very profitable. You are a good director, and the funds are a bit tight recently. How about we cooperate?"
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