Huayu: I Have a Doraemon

Chapter 33 Countdown: 93 Days

In his previous life, Lin An saw a post while browsing Douyin (TikTok).

The gist of it is that people actually find it hard to accept "sincerity" because most people are calculating in their dealings with others and with things.

When someone treats them with complete sincerity, their first reaction is not gratitude, but fear, disgust, or even a desire to escape.

At the time, Lin An thought it was nonsense, but now he realizes it was like a boomerang hitting him.

Lin An was filled with mixed feelings, and for a moment he really had the urge to cover his face and run away.

Seeing that he was alright, Doraemon breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help complaining:

"Honestly, if you have nothing to say, just say so. You suddenly squatted down and startled me."

A night breeze blew in from the alley entrance, carrying the chill of early autumn.

Lin An looked at the grinning blue robot in front of him and sighed:

"I'm really impressed by you."

"Huh?" Doraemon looked confused.

Lin An shook his head and said nothing more.

He brushed the dust off his trousers, stood up, and said softly:

"Forget about the automatic screwdriver; it's too risky, and there aren't many appliances around here that you can repair. Let's think of another way."

Doraemon's eyes lit up. "You're willing to help too?"

"If even a robot cat like you is willing to help, how can I not help? Would I even be human?" Lin An, hoping to retain his human status, said irritably.

"Stop nagging. I just don't want you to make a mess of things and leave me to clean up the mess."

Doraemon pouted, feeling wronged, thinking to himself that he hadn't made a mess of things.

He's not Nobita.

But he soon remembered his dark history of almost blowing up the Milky Way in order to eliminate rats, and he immediately felt guilty.

Lin An, oblivious to the blue fat boy's inner thoughts, squatted down, picked up the pepper cake from the ground, and said while eating:

"Old Zhao doesn't seem like the type to expose his family's dirty laundry. How did you find out about this?"

Doraemon said, "Mimi told me."

Lin An's brows furrowed slowly.

Little Mimi?

Would a normal person have this name?

"Who is that?" Lin An asked.

Doraemon's round face flushed slightly, he lowered his head, and his voice became a little softer:

"It's a stray cat I met in the neighborhood."

Ah, this...

Lin An opened his mouth, but for a moment he didn't know what to say.

The original Doraemon does seem to have this special ability... Is this a strange encounter in another world?

Lin An gently rubbed his temples, forcibly shifting his attention to the important matter at hand:

"Did that stray cat—no, Little Mimi—tell you the final repayment date for Old Zhao's son?"

Doraemon thought for a moment, then shook his head and said:

"No, but I'd guess it'll be around mid-December."

Why?

"I saw Uncle Zhao circling this time on the calendar and repeatedly mentioning it when he was on the phone with others."

It doesn't feel very reliable... Lin An stuffed the last bite of pepper cake into his mouth and mumbled:

"Investigate this matter thoroughly, and if possible, also investigate the source of the debt."

He paused, his tone becoming more serious:

"I'm not saying bad things about others, but some people are not worth helping, and some mistakes cannot be forgiven."

Doraemon nodded as if he understood, then blinked his round eyes:

"And what about you?"

Lin An rolled his eyes and said irritably:

"Of course I'm going to make money."

"You have another way to make money?" Doraemon tilted his head curiously.

He subconsciously blocked the "write script" option.

After all, who can write a high-value script again and again?

That kind of thing is too outrageous and doesn't fit his understanding of the world.

Lin An's face darkened, and he gritted his teeth, saying:

"You don't need to worry about that."

Doraemon was startled by his expression and wisely shut his mouth.

……

……

into the night.

Lin An sat at his desk in the second-floor room, the lamplight casting a warm yellow glow on the manuscript paper.

The pen tip made a scratching sound as the lines went from light to heavy, from sparse to dense.

In less than half an hour, a line drawing of a Super Saiyan appeared on the paper.

In the image, Sun Wukong's hair stands on end, his expression is ferocious, and his muscles are exaggerated, a typical style of Akira Toriyama.

Compared to the sample Tang Yu provided, the quality has improved by more than one level.

Lin An held up the painting, looked at it under the lamp, and nodded in satisfaction.

[Drawing] The cartridge effect is indeed stable; no matter how many times you draw, the output quality will not fluctuate much.

He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling for a while.

120,000.

Say no more, say less.

If he writes several scripts of "Not Watching the Spring Festival Gala" caliber in the following months, the money will not be a problem at all.

The problem is, he can't do that.

Being one step ahead is genius; being a hundred or a thousand steps ahead is madness.

Lin An is willing to suffer some losses and accept some risks for certain things, but he would never joke about his own safety.

Today is September 8th. If Doraemon's guess about the final repayment date is correct, then there are 93 days remaining.

If Old Man Zhao can only come up with 30,000, then the remaining debt will be 90,000.

He and Doraemon each get half, which is 45,000 yuan. On average, each of them should earn at least 480 yuan a day.

You should know that a high-level white-collar worker in this era only earns about two thousand yuan a month, which averages out to only 60 yuan a day.

They earn eight times more money every day than the average person.

"call......"

Lin An exhaled a breath of stale air and sighed:

"Being a hero isn't so easy after all."

However, despite saying that, he didn't seem to be complaining too much.

Although they had only spent a few months together, he had already taken advantage of Doraemon in countless ways.

The [Ability Card] alone represents a level that others might not be able to reach even after several lifetimes of effort, not to mention the bug-level [Panacea].

As for helping Doraemon return to the future, hehe...

If the conditions were exchanged, plenty of people would be willing to help... In the end, he was just lucky... Lin An secretly mocked himself.

He thought to himself that if Doraemon left tomorrow, he wouldn't be able to find any legitimate reason to persuade him to stay.

The room fell silent for a moment, with intermittent chirping of insects coming from outside the window.

Lin An shook his head, banishing these chaotic thoughts from his mind, and picked up his pen again.

After a brief hesitation, he took a deep breath, pressed his fingers hard, and rubbed the pen tip against the paper.

The next second, the room was filled with rustling sounds again.

As time passed, the black lines spread outwards from the center of the paper, first along the jawline, then along the curve of the neck, and finally into the faint shadow below the collarbone...

Lin An's breathing unconsciously became heavy, and at the same time, he shouted in his heart:

This is art!

This is every man's dream!!

This is an honor for every painter!