Someone Is Passing Potato Chips on the Chessboard

Some people say that Lu Yan is a born chess player. Twenty-two years old, he had just finished a whole chess game in Shanghai. The inheritance left by his grandfather, the hidden clues that his cousin had buried for ten years, and the three-linked opponents in the board of directors—it took him five years to collect, flatten, and file them all, and then flew to London with his suitcase. As a result, in the first week after arriving in London, a boy in an old sweatshirt from the next table knocked on his door with a bucket of curry: "My second aunt met your mother in Cape Town." From then on, Xu Zhicheng became his little brother and humanoid delivery boy. Shen Nian, the enthusiastic girl who handed out potato chips on the plane, sent a voice message from Johannesburg: "I interviewed an old lady today, and she said she had seen a wooden box with the word 'Lu' engraved on it..."; Lin Zhiyi, the girl who acted for him in Shanghai for four months, sent an ugly umbrella with cats printed on it: "It's raining in London. , I'll send you an umbrella. It's a bit ugly, but it's windproof."; Legal consultant Gu Wei pushed a document by the office window: "Your cousin also has a set of parallel assets." British girl Elena raised her hand in the last row of the class: "I know the answer to your case." Girls, pass things onto the board from different directions. He took everything he ordered without any haste or impatience. It's time to go to class, it's time to eat. His mother asked him: "How many games of chess are you playing?" He said: "One game. But there are always people passing things to me next to this game of chess, and I have to catch it first." This is not a business war drama, nor an emotional drama. It is the story of a 22-year-old young man who finally learned to "play chess and live at the same time." The chessboard is always there, but the people beside it are more important than the chess game itself.