Chapter 8 GOODMAN

As a time traveler, you must abide by the iron laws of keeping secrets and moving after making a decision. Two days later, Song Ya felt that according to her current ability, she had almost done the preparation work, so the whole family took advantage of the dinner. Now, implement the plan decisively: "I need money." He cuts to the chase.

"How much?" Aunt Susie handed the little Freddy in her arms to Connie, and took out the coin clip.

"About seventy to one hundred dollars." Song Ya replied.

The sound of tableware colliding and the sound of chewing food disappeared instantly, and everyone's eyes were focused on him.

"I'll pay it back with interest," he added.

"Damn it!"

A few seconds later, Aunt Susie came to her senses and was furious, "Whose belly did you make bigger!?"

"Where did you go!" Song Ya was speechless.

"Him? Impossible." Connie likes to mess with her mother, but she sees things from a different angle. "No girl in school looks at him."

Uh... Forget it, Song Ya didn't want to explain her "little transparency" strategy to her, but felt a little bit hurt.

"Why? Isn't Alex good-looking?" Aunt Susie's attention was diverted again. "I met a school teacher on the road yesterday. She liked Alex very much and said that Alex's academic performance improved rapidly... "

"You don't want to make trouble, do you?!"

Tony, who had been silent all the time, remembered something, and interjected: "You have been inquiring about Little Lowry, Al, AK, and the record company for the past two days..." He stared into Song Ya's eyes, "I warn you You, don't use your brain!"

"Am I that kind of person?"

Song Ya doesn't plan to show Tony now, "I'll have a good talk with you tomorrow night."

"It's time for us to have a good talk. You have been very wrong recently, very wrong..."

Tony and the former Alexander Song slept in the same room since they were young. They know him best. Naturally, they feel the deepest changes in Song Ya's behavior, personality and way of thinking after crossing. In recent days, he has been talking about something wrong. As for why it is wrong, He couldn't explain it, and he was a little dazed.

"Son, what do you want money for?" Aunt Susie asked with concern.

Song Ya said a well-considered reason, "Uh... I need some legal help, you know, lawyers are very expensive..."

"Did you really make someone's belly bigger?"

Unexpectedly, his words caused some 'ambiguity', and now even Connie was a little uncertain, "You are not going to marry with a child!? Don't believe those Bichi nonsense, you know, they may I just want to find someone to take over, the child was not made with you at all, or she doesn't know who belongs to several people..."

Song Ya's forehead was full of black lines.

"Oh my god you shut up!"

Aunt Susie stood up, "Aren't you ashamed to know so much at the age of seventeen? I'm ashamed of M-FXXX for you!" She turned and went upstairs, and then there was a sound of locking the door, which should be taken from the hidden place.

"I've never given her pocket money a few times, let alone such a large amount." Tony grumbled.

"Alex is good at studying." Connie deliberately stimulated him, "Have you ever been the first in the whole class? Have you ever gotten an A+?"

"Wow, is Brother Alex really so powerful?" The primary school student Emily's three views are quite normal.

"Hmph, don't forget, I'm the one who brings income to the family now!" Tony pouted sourly, "Emily..." He squeezed his throat, "Do you like that tutu?"

"I like it." That day, Emily brought back the tutu dress as she wished at the second-hand store.

"Then who helped you earn the money for the tutu skirt?" Tony asked again.

Emily thought for a while, "You." She added, "But I'm tired from dancing, too."

Connie laughed.

"Here." While speaking, Aunt Susie came down from upstairs and threw the money rolled up in a rubber band in front of Song Ya.

"thanks."

Song Yapo whirled about the money that was rolled up very firmly: "It shouldn't be long before I can pay it back, including interest."

"You should still express your gratitude like this."

Aunt Susie turned her cheek, "It's been a long time since you kissed me."

Well, Song Ya knew that this was a normal way for foreigners to express their feelings, and Aunt Susie was really nice to him, "Thank you, Aunt Susie." He hugged her and pecked her left and right cheeks.

The next day, Song Ya got up very early, and first took care of herself carefully. Her short haircut was clean and neat, and she wore a dark mid-collar sweater, light-colored jeans and sneakers that were specially washed, and matched with a pair of A plaid suit that I found in a second-hand store for $9.90. Nowadays, new cheap suits often have thick shoulder pads, but Song Ya prefers this old style.

He put a pile of written scores, a notebook, and some useful newspaper clippings into the same second-hand canvas briefcase. Except for the change for the car, he stuffed all the other banknotes into the socks and stepped on them. Sole of the feet, there is no way, the chance of being robbed here is too high, especially his current outfit is a bit ostentatious.

With no one in the house up yet, he took a cold pie out of the cupboard and ate it as he walked out the door.

Take the bus first, then transfer to the subway twice, then get off and walk for a while, and you will arrive at the destination of this trip, Clark Street.

At this time, Connie should help him ask for leave from school, right?

He is a person who is used to step by step, so he really likes the current feeling. Since the apocalypse, he has the confidence of a time traveler, and the rest is left to his own efforts.

Of course, finding the right direction is also very important.

He took out a newspaper clipping from his bag and followed the address on it to find it.

There are more and more pedestrians with black hair and yellow skin next to them. Yes, this is Chicago's Chinatown.

The blacks in the slums of Nancheng never had good things to say about lawyers, and they didn't even treat black lawyers very well. Song Ya felt that he might as well find a Chinese lawyer for consultation. Of course, the main reason is that the fee here is the cheapest, thirty-five dollars for an hour of consulting services.

But he didn't expect that there are mainly Cantonese-speaking people here, and they can't even speak English well when asking directions. After going around, they finally reached the downstairs address on the newspaper clipping.

"This?"

In front of him was not the glass curtain wall of the financial district that towered into the sky as he had imagined, but an ordinary old-fashioned commercial building.

"Forget it, if it comes, it will be safe."

He meditated, and went up to the 4th floor through the antique elevator with fenced doors, and finally arrived at the destination of this trip, 'GOODMAN Law Firm'.

He took off his shoes first, took out the money from his socks and stuffed it into his pocket, then adjusted his instruments and pressed the doorbell.

"Who?" asked a man inside.

"Alexander Song, I made an appointment by phone yesterday." Song Ya replied.

A sleepy-eyed white man opened the door, "You know my fee." He let Song Ya in and asked.

"Is this a law firm?"

Song Ya looked in surprise at the small single room in front of her. A desk, two chairs and a row of filing cabinets were gone.

This 30-year-old, slightly bald white man sat behind the desk and pointed to the two IDs hanging on the wall, "Yes, I am GOODMAN, Goodman, please sit down, yesterday you were on the phone You mean copyright concerns, right? Let's get started, without wasting your time or mine."

Song Ya felt that he was afraid that he would turn around and leave and lose his business.

Glancing at the certificate on the wall, there seemed to be no problem, so he simply asked, "May I take the liberty to ask, why did you open your law firm here?"

"There is business here, and Chinese people don't like to use their own people in divorce and inheritance lawsuits." Goodman replied.

Well, it seems to make sense, "But I'm a copyright issue..." Song Ya asked again.

"I also understand copyright!" Goodman got a little impatient, took out a small fixed clock and slapped it on the table, "Time starts."