"That's good." Song Zecheng nodded, pacing halfway behind the boss, and the two fell silent at the same time.
Although Jenny had just bought a Tibetan cake house, Song Ya's interest was not high. In the six months since the party came to power, especially an incident more than two months ago, he and Song Ze became a match for the current state of China. The external environment has caused great concerns. The only superpower’s attention has begun an obvious strategic shift under the threat of the highly aggressive Mi Cabinet, conservative think tanks, and theoretical intellectual circles.
In particular, Mearsheimer, a professor of political science at the University of Chicago, kept writing essays urging "to do it when it is time to do it." He simply and rudely multiplied the population of China 20 years later by the Silla after the economic miracle of the Han River. The current GDP per capita data has reached the terrible conclusion that China's GDP will be 10.66 trillion dollars in 20 years. This calculation model has completely overturned the geostrategic tycoon Brzezinski in 1997. The prediction that China's GDP will double in twenty years.
Then according to his theory of offensive realism, containing potential threats is an inevitable choice that must be made immediately.
Speaking of which he had taken his political science class before, why didn’t I see it at the time...
I knew how to get the University of Chicago to fire this girl...
Song Ya thought.
In addition to using the resources at hand to dispel the theory of collapse very carefully, after a series of events, Song Ya gradually burst into a great disgust towards the world’s only superpower. It seems that the previous “help, help” is not enough. In the future, you have to take the initiative to exert greater influence on the domestic politics of the United States, such as deconstruction, such as diverting attention, or... simply messing up from the inside and pulling out the tiger's teeth?
The specific plan is not yet clear. "Fortunately, our group of neo-conservatives in the Georgian dynasty don't care much about Mearsheimer."
Song Ya smiled with some fluke: "The total GDP of China in 20 years is ten trillion knives? Hehe, I doubt he can't count at all, and he just compiled a number to serve his political theory. It's too exaggerated, the typical argument is first and then the evidence is gathered..."
"Yes, the GDP has doubled tenfold in 20 years. We, uh... China itself dare not think so. In the theoretical world, it is obvious that the Jewish chairman of pnac, William Bristol, has a greater influence on this government."
Song Zecheng replied: "William Bristol is more concerned about the Middle East and the security of Israel."
"Didn't the deputy commander Cheney say that he admired Reagan extremely, but no one has shown the real power of the United States to the world. Then in these four years it is likely to be shown...The Middle East is obviously the best goal. ."
"Yes."
The two find reasons to cheer each other up.
Jennifer Connelly settled down with her son and looked through the window to the man who was not discussing anything with the private lawyer. She couldn't help but recall the day of the Grammy Awards...
"You stay here honestly for me."
The always domineering black pharaoh obviously misunderstood him, but he didn't give any opportunity to explain, he pointed his finger at himself and threw a word coldly, then turned and left.
I'm so wronged! I didn't do anything! demon!
She looked at Paul Bettany, who was lying motionless on the floor, and at the messy table in front of her. Finally, she turned her head to observe the surroundings. Although the deck where Paul Bettany was located was quiet, but on such a large scale. Where is the real private place in the party? Several nearby guests began to gather around, peering outside the deck to watch the excitement.
Angry, scared, and embarrassed, she was able to block her face by covering her mouth, and big tears came out of her eyes.
"I will deal with it, you leave here first."
Fortunately, the black pharaoh's most trusted personal bodyguard, the old Mike with white hair, arrived soon, and after a brief inspection of Paul Bettany, he began to rush people.
She immediately got up and fled the scene, and the little woman bowed her head and followed behind the black Pharaoh obediently.
"I didn't, he took it out, and I didn't touch it...you just came over."
The man's tall back without a word spoke a lot of pressure. After walking to the temporary isolation line pulled up by the bodyguard, she finally mustered up the courage to defend herself.
Still not getting any response, Pharaoh Black left the party hall, followed the bodyguard to a door, and stepped inside.
She quickly followed in.
It was the monitoring room. The black pharaoh bent over and whispered to the staff sitting in front of many closed-circuit television screens. The other party began to switch positions and rewind to watch the video.
snort! Unbelievers!
She knew what Pharaoh Black was looking for, she was aggrieved and angry at the same time she raised her throat and tilted her head to look.
The party was very dark. In the picture, Paul Bettany was chatting with himself happily. His hands gradually fell on his shoulders, and he was taken off by the sitting posture that he took the initiative to clink glasses to welcome him.
Fast forward, fast forward!
She was awakened by alcohol, but she couldn't remember if there was any more ambiguous little action behind, so she had to pray in her heart and peek at the black pharaoh.
The handsome face with frowning brows remained motionless like a sculpture. She was even more panicked. She recalled the sudden appearance of her boyfriend Limax just now, holding her hot face with her hands, "Uh, it should be in half an hour..."
She plucked up the courage to make Little Clever trick the staff to fast forward the video. Now that she is thrown away by the black pharaoh, she would rather die.
The staff began to fast forward.
She observed again, the black pharaoh still did not say anything.
The picture shows himself getting drunk, and finally he complains to Paul Bettany with his hands on hips and pouting.
"That's it..." She whispered, holding the black Pharaoh's arms swayingly again. "That's it."
The staff resumed the normal video playback speed, Paul Bettany took out the small bottle, and the black pharaoh also saw the scene later, straightened up, but still ignored people.
Cold violence! Scumbag!
"You go out." Black Pharaoh said.
Several staff members left in silence.
"I'm sorry." She immediately threw herself into the arms of the scumbag, clinging to her, and apologized humbly, "I don't know that Paul is that kind of person, I can't touch that kind of thing..."
She knows that the other party has always been extremely disgusted with people who are in touch with that kind of thing, especially the people around him.
No, there can be no such kind of people around him...
"what!"
Might as well be violently pushed aside by the man, losing her balance and throwing herself on the table in the monitoring room. She knew this scumbag too much, but she felt relieved and passed the test! Immediately take advantage of the trend and shamefully play, "I was wrong, sorry, punish me! Whatever you want..."
"Aplus." At this moment, old Mike opened the door and came in.
She straightened up immediately, flicking her hair pretending to be watching surveillance.
"Fainted... Maybe there was a concussion, I twisted my neck... I don't know how the injury was... Have been sent to the doctor..."
Old Mike reported in a low voice when there was a knock on the door outside, and he went out for a while, "Russell Crowe wants to see you."
"Yeah." Black Pharaoh nodded and agreed.
Relying on the beautiful heart of Ridley Scott's bright red, Australian male protagonist Russell Crowe was led in with one hand in his trouser pocket, "What happened aplus?" He handed the phone over, "Paul's agent."