Not winning an award—that would be the real dirt!
That "heroic declaration" made Old Zhou's entire body shudder.
Seeing that this guy was about to start making people sick again, Bai Youlou hurriedly changed the subject. "Actually, I'm not that afraid of dirt either."
He really wasn't afraid of dirt. What he was a little afraid of now was Old Zhou turning everything gay at the drop of a hat.
It was honestly a little disgusting.
"Anyway, it'd be great if we could win an award and give this guy a good, hard slap in the face. He's like a fly!" Old Zhou was even more annoyed that he hadn't managed to disgust and sentimentalize things, and he wished he could pick up a brick and smack Wang Henshui on the back of the head.
Of course, the two of them were merely assuming that Wang Henshui had bad intentions.
Bai Youlou had no evidence that the other man really wanted to mess with him.
Maybe this was just the vague sixth sense shared by two old schemers.
He had often played such tricks in his previous life too.
Although the money he'd spent greasing the palms of the trade magazines might have given others some leverage over him, it had still been well spent!
Hu Manyin had collected every trade magazine, even cutting out multiple copies and tucking them into the promotional brochures for Whiplash.
At the same time, they had placed quite a few recent trade magazines and periodicals on their little stall. These things had really helped.
Originally, Bai Youlou and the others' copyright-selling business rarely got any customers. Hardly anyone came over to ask about it during the entire day.
But now, Hu Manyin was so busy that her feet barely touched the ground.
She was