“Edit the video.” Frederick Fu’s eyes were still staring at the screen, and he didn’t even look at Henry Jiang, who was already sitting next to him, so that Henry Jiang began to wonder if his charm had faded.
Henry Jiang asked Frederick Fu: “Your movie hasn’t been shot yet. What are you editing?”
Frederick Fu finally raised his head and glanced at Henry Jiang, then stretched out his hand and pushed him aside: “Go to work, and you will know when I finish cutting.”
Jiang Heng shook his head helplessly, feeling that his position in Frederick Fu’s mind was now slowly receding, and he must find a way to firmly occupy his previous position.
He stared at Frederick Fu for a while, hoping that Frederick Fu could detect his gaze, but he was too dedicated to his work. Henry Jiang hesitated, got up and poured a glass of warm water in front of the water dispenser and sent it to Frederick Fu. At hand.
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