Seven Hundred and Six - Farm

Every time he returned to the farm where he grew up, Wayne would temporarily abandon all work and thinking, completely stop his brain from racing, and quietly enjoy the rare peace.

Under the porch of the farm's rough wooden villa, Old Greenberg held a huge pipe in the corner of his mouth, leaned on the rocking chair, and took a sip of black tea on the table next to him from time to time.

Don't look at Ruben Greenberg at this time. He has a huge revolver on his waist, a plaid shirt that can't hide his fat belly, and a cowboy hat on his head, like a domineering redneck. But every time his eyes passed over the child not far in front of him, his face would reveal a charming aunt's smile unconsciously.

No matter what others thought, at least that was how Wayne, sitting in the rocking chair on the other side of the table, felt.

"This kind of dog is really good. It looks fierce and strong on the outside, but actually has a very good personality, is loyal and stable, and has enough tolerance and tolerance towards children..."

Old Greenberg glanced sideways at his son and murmured: "Tolerant and friendly, with enough endurance and patience, these three fierce-looking little guys are simply little Fendi's 24-hour personal nannies. They only care about their heart." Really three great guys for companionship and service.”

After finishing speaking, seeing that his son was still squinting his eyes and leaning on the rocking chair without saying a word, Old Greenberg curled his lips secretly, turned his head directly, looked at him seriously and said: "Boy, about your various... It’s like shit news. It has been hyped by the media this year. I heard that you and the heroine in "The Matrix"..."

"Dad, can we not talk about this."

Helplessly interrupting his father's words, Wayne sat up from the rocking chair and reached out to touch the cigarettes and fire on the table. "Okay, I guess let's talk about these dogs."

"Listen, Wayne."

Old Greenberg reached out and took off his cowboy hat, put it on his stomach, tilted his head and looked at his son, trying to make his voice full of seriousness. "You little bastard, I want to remind you, don't go too far with women, otherwise you will definitely get into trouble."

As he spoke, he specifically glanced at the living room of the wooden villa behind him, and the meaning was quite obvious. Inside the house, Bella Grant was sitting with Anna Greenberg. It could be seen that the two women were having a good chat, and they kept discussing literature while watching TV.

"Okay, Dad, can we talk about something else..."

Breathing out a large cloud of smoke, Wayne raised his hands helplessly and made a gesture of surrender. He is no longer the kid who just entered Hollywood and didn't know anything, especially about his father's past.

As far as he knew, his father, Reuben Greenberg, was still a drug addict before he married his mother.

"All right."

Knowing that the child had grown up and had a unique worldview formed, and that he was no longer the little boy who looked at him with admiration, the old Greenberg waved his hand angrily.

But he seemed to have thought of something again, this time his expression was even more serious than before, and even the pipe in the corner of his mouth was placed on the small log table between the two of them.

"There's one more thing, whether you like it or not, I have to remind you, Wayne!"

Wayne had actually seen his father's expression for a long time since he moved to Los Angeles. He nodded doubtfully, indicating that he was listening carefully.

Old Greenberg simply straightened his upper body, looked at his son, and continued to say seriously: "The achievements you have made are far beyond your mother and I's expectations, including the speed of wealth accumulation! Look, what's going on in the white house?" Various news about Bit and Time Warner have never been interrupted, and even many ordinary people know it very well.

So, I don’t care about your future plans, whether you continue to make movies or something else. No matter how much Warner Bros. shares you hold in your hands, don’t touch politics! Don't even get in touch with those dirty politicians! OK? "

As a former boss of a Hollywood film company, Greenberg Sr. has an extremely thorough understanding of this industry. He is very sure that based on his son's current achievements, Warner Bros. and Time Warner will have to pay a lot of money if they want to tie up his son. shares, this is the operating law of the entire business society.

"I understand, Dad, I won't touch those people and things."

Nodding, Wayne answered in the affirmative. He knew that his father said this for his own good. Because many of the well-known wealthy people in North America can make these people fall into trouble is that they touch things and people they shouldn't touch, and have ambitions they shouldn't have.

Many people may be confused about the two completely unrelated combinations of rich people and politicians. In fact, the most important feature of North American politics is that whether it is the Congress, the White House or the Five Corners Building, the top politicians are inextricably linked to various capital groups in North America.

Among the capital consortiums throughout North America, the media group is the most special. The reason is very simple. The various complete publicity platforms of the media group are even more important than anything else.

"You're doing far better than I am."

Seeing him nodding happily, Old Greenberg knew in his heart that his son had not been dazzled by power, ambition and money. Then he put away the seriousness on his face, picked up his pipe again, leaned back on the rocking chair, and turned his attention to the three bullies again. Little Fendi playing with the dog.

"In less than ten years, we have already achieved achievements that ordinary people will look up to throughout their lives. Boy, what your mother talks about most now is you, her biggest pride."

"Dad, I'm not stupid."

Looking at his daughter who was laughing happily, Wayne took two big puffs of cigarette and whispered: "If my surname was not Greenberg, and if it wasn't my first work and a rich father paid for it, maybe I would Now, I don’t know which small crew I will work as a director’s assistant.”

"No, no, no."

Although Old Greenberg had an unabashed smile on his face, he still stretched out a thick finger, waved it between the two of them, and corrected:

"Boy, you don't become the premier director in Hollywood just because your last name is Greenberg or because you have a father who is willing to invest in you. It's because your last name is Greenberg and you have a father who is willing to pay for your potential failure. This will give you a relatively fair chance to start in Hollywood!"

Glancing at his son, Old Greenberg narrowed his eyes with a smile and said nothing. The two men looked at little Fendi together, and for a while, calm returned to the porch again.

The brief conversation between the two was all heard by Nina, who was sitting on the other side of the porch. The assistant's eyes hidden behind the thick glasses stared at Old Greenberg carefully for a long time, but she could see It was just the overbearing and rude farmer.

It was at this moment that she suddenly figured out something. No matter what happens, my boss always keeps a clear mind. The most likely reason is that since childhood, I have been subtly influenced by this extremely clear-headed father.

"Daddy, can I stay with my grandfather?"

Little Fendi, who had been playing in front of the villa, stumbled towards Wayne, threw herself into his arms, stared up at her father with curious eyes, and asked her father sweetly. The child, who lives back and forth between Los Angeles and the farm, clearly prefers the environment here.

After reaching out and picking up his daughter and placing her on his lap, Wayne smiled and nodded. "Of course you can stay on the farm, of course."

At the same time, three bully dogs that looked like little tails followed closely behind Little Fundy. They all lay stupidly at his feet, sticking out their tongues and looking at them.

Wayne stretched out a hand and gently stroked the head of one of them. The other two rushed forward, opening their big mouths and licking his palm crazily.

The three dogs that Sergey found through his connections are technically large bully dogs. Although they look fierce in appearance, they look extremely impactful. Their whole bodies are like devilish knots of muscles, but they have gentle personalities. It's unbelievable.

"Ram, Suvi and Bas, also like to stay here..."

Sitting in her father's arms, little Fendi told interesting stories about herself and the three bullies intermittently, especially when she saw her father caressing the three little friends, she giggled from time to time.

A few naughty calves broke away from the herd in the distance, and from time to time the shouts and whistles of cowboys on horseback could be heard. Holding his daughter in his arms, Wayne looked at the herd of cattle in the distance and fell into a familiar calm mood.

Perhaps for little Fundy, the farm is also the happiest place for her, especially the arrival of her father. So after the joyful dinner, Wayne picked up a prepared fairy tale book and leaned against his daughter's bedside, just like the old Greenberg did when he was a child.

"Hagrid helped Harry put the money into the bag. 'Gold coins are galleons,' he explained. 'Seventeen Sickles to a Galleons, twenty-nine Tenas to a Sickle, simple enough Alright? Okay, it's enough for two semesters, and I'll keep the rest for you.'

He turned to Griphook and said: 'Take us to the underground vault No. 713 now, but can you drive the car slower? ’

Griphook said: 'The speed of the car is only one..."

Gently closing the little wizard in his hand, Wayne looked at his daughter who was already asleep, put the book on the desk table, got out of bed and turned off the lamp, preparing to go back to his room to rest.

"daddy."

Just when he turned around and walked a few steps, little Fundy's confused cry came from behind.

Turning around, Wayne saw his daughter open her eyes, shrugged and whispered: "Hey, sweetheart, it's getting late now, it's time for you to enter a wonderful dream."

"Daddy, you forgot to kiss me."

"Oh, damn."

After patting his forehead exaggeratedly, Wayne walked back to the bed with a smile, bent down and kissed his daughter gently on the forehead. "Okay, it's time for our little princess to go to bed. Good night, Fundy."

"Good night, Dad."

Seeing his daughter closing her eyes and glancing at the three bullies sleeping soundly beside the bed, he slowly closed the door, stood in the corridor, stretched out his arms and stretched hard.

"It's not easy to be a good father, huh?"

"Yes, I'm working hard to learn this." Hearing the teasing from the opposite room, Wayne shrugged and walked towards the already opened door. "I thought you were already asleep. Dear Ms. Grant, do you also need me to read you a bedtime fairy tale?"

"If you are willing, I would rather relive my wonderful childhood." Bella Grant was wearing pajamas, folded her arms in front of her chest and shook her head gently. After seeing him walking over quietly, she took the initiative to step aside. door.

"Hey, then you'd better call me daddy sweetly..."

When she heard the man's words, she rolled her eyes and closed the door, while whispering a curse word. "fxxk you, you're such a bastard."

The room the two of them lived in was the bedroom that Wayne had lived in since he was a child. Not far from the foot of the big wooden bed, there was a tall wooden desk. There was a half-opened book in the center of the desk. It was obvious that Bella Grant had just read the book.

There are several similar tomes on the desk against the wall. These are all professional film and television production books. Next to the books, there are more than a dozen video tapes neatly stacked. Each video tape has a handwritten name and date on it. These are various experimental short films he shot during his college career.

The two of them lay on the big bed, and Bella Grant leaned against the head of the table, looking around the entire room again. From those professional film and television production books, experimental short video tapes, to a wooden guitar, a 1

Finally, his eyes rested on the man's face, and he watched the other person light a cigarette before asking: "It can be seen that there is almost no trace of entertainment in the whole bedroom. Does this mean that you have been extremely self-disciplined since you were a child?"

"Well, maybe..."

Looking at each other in surprise, Wayne exhaled a large puff of smoke and replied vaguely.

"You know what, Wayne."

Seeing the man's casual attitude, Bella Grant reached out, grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, put it in her own mouth and took a big drag, then put it back into the other man's mouth and said:

"Probably a well-known North American psychologist in Zister-Mihay, specifically tracked some very successful people in North America, that is, elites from all walks of life. He wanted to see why these people were able to do what they did. The pinnacle of career!”

"Hmm?" Wayne muttered, "What secret did this psychologist discover?"

Ignoring the casualness in the man's tone, Bella Grant continued: "Zister Mihay discovered that it is not because their IQ is higher than others, their emotional intelligence is higher, their education is higher, or their family background is better.

He found that the only thing that could sum up these successful people, leaders in various industries, was that they had one thing in common. That is, when they are doing their own work and doing what they like to do, they can often use extreme self-discipline to enter a state of intoxication and completely block external interference.

He used one word to express this state, flow. The original meaning of flow is flow. Since then, more psychologists have been using this expression, not only in North America, but also in other overseas regions. "

"What do you want to say?" Wayne tilted his head and asked, holding a cigarette in his mouth.

"I want to say you." Bella Grant couldn't help rolling her eyes again. "Once you enter work, you will become a complete workaholic, and you will maintain extreme self-discipline from childhood to adulthood. This shows that the conclusion of psychologist Zister Mihayi is not correct at all, you guys That’s the characteristic of successful people.”

Speaking of this, she paused, looked into the eyes of the man next to her and asked, "Wayne, is self-discipline the key factor for successful people like you?"

"Is this a formal interview? Bella." Seeing the woman's serious expression, Wayne smiled and shook his head.

Bella Grant curled her lips when she felt the man's hand begin to move inside her pajamas. "of course not......"

"Well, I will tell you, don't listen to the nonsense of some psychology experts!"

Seeing that the woman was curious about this, Wayne simply moved his body upwards, reached out and put the burning cigarette into the ashtray on the bedside table, and explained: "Only people who are extremely focused can achieve great success that ordinary people can't imagine. Work. He wakes up and forgets to eat and sleep, and it is completely impossible to control his sleep, or even control his diet, body shape and daily clothing.

Let me tell you, these things are in conflict with the word self-discipline. Because people who are extremely focused cannot be self-disciplined. This is the state of those bullshit achievers! "

"wrong."

The beauty editor frowned slightly and asked, "Then why do all successful people talk about their self-discipline?"

"Tsk." Wayne snorted nonchalantly and waved his hand. "Don't be stupid. It's just chicken soup to fool the public. It's a way of putting money on the face of the so-called successful people. Of course it has to be said in a nice way. So, don't believe the surveys of psychologists and don't believe those successful people. Anyone who believes in the poisonous chicken soup is an absolute fool."

Of course, some of what he said was not too realistic, because what he said was too realistic and most ordinary people could not accept it. The state of a successful person he talks about has a major premise, that is, you must first have the talent of more than 99% of ordinary people.

Take Wayne himself for example. Everyone says he is self-disciplined and a workaholic. However, no one would notice that he was so sleepless and forgetful about food and drink after working that he couldn't think of anything else except filming related matters.

That is to say, because the work will enter such a state, Nina's importance becomes more prominent, because once the movie starts to be shot, the assistant lady manages almost everything except work. Including preparing the clothes to wear every day, what to eat and all other life issues.

In other words, once he has entered work mode, Wayne will become a person who is not diligent in all aspects of his body, inseparable from grains, and even loses more than half of his ability to live. You must know that self-disciplined people will not be in such a state. People who are extremely focused on one thing like them cannot have self-discipline.

"Damn, I should really write that down."

Bella Grant sighed helplessly and said bitterly: "If it is published like this, the sales of the Los Angeles Times will definitely increase dramatically."

"Huh, do you think I will admit it?" Wayne said funnyly: "If I face the media, I will definitely tell them that my current achievements are all due to my extreme self-discipline. The public likes to hear this so that they can There’s something about seeing hope, isn’t it?”

"Yes." Bella Grant nodded involuntarily, her eyes suddenly widened, and she turned her head to look at Wayne fiercely. "Shit, I forgot to bring a small umbrella when I came here. Don't move..."

"Huh? It doesn't matter. We can choose a way that doesn't require a small umbrella, can't we?"

"fxxk! You pervert..."