Day 01 17:08
Song Ran is a children's picture book illustrator.
He went to S City to work hard when he was just a young man, and for several years, he finally signed long-term contracts with several publishing houses. Because of his diligence, courtesy, and timely submission of manuscripts, the aunts, sisters, and old aunts in the editorial department like him very much. They regard him as their son. , by chance.
Just kidding, he's gay, he can't harm innocent girls.
Song Ran's sexual orientation is innate and has no hope of reversing. Although he didn't have time to fall in love for more than 20 years, and he didn't really like anyone, but the blurred figure with no chest and no buttocks pressing down on him in Chunmeng was definitely not a woman, he was sure of that.
Songran is single and has no partner yet.
When he first came to S City, he saw a same-sex couple holding hands in the subway, which gave him the wrong signal, thinking that the gay circle in S City was as common and open as this couple. So he took the courage to go to the Gay Bar for a night, but was forced to flee by the flirtatious costumes full of sensuality and the debauched estrus atmosphere, and he cut off the idea of finding a partner in this way.
To this day, Song Ran has lived alone.
Late spring follows early summer, and autumn frost follows winter snow. He composes pictures under dense rain and flower branches, and paints in warm sun and fallen leaves. It is quiet and peaceful, and every stroke is peaceful.
Occasionally, he would also have vague expectations, imagining what the other half of the future would look like. Song Ran likes this sense of anticipation very much, it makes life vibrant and encourages him to smile at everyone, because maybe at some inadvertent moment, the destined person will show up unexpectedly.
Song Ran hoped that the first expression she gave him was the cleanest smile.
Song Ran has two dimples, and she smiles beautifully, revealing the innocence and immaturity that are rare in adults, and easily captures the aunts who are overflowing with maternal love in the editorial department.
However, from a certain day, he became lack of self-confidence.
For example, now, he is standing at the door of the apartment lobby, holding the access card in hand, practicing smiling at the floor-to-ceiling glass that can be seen, and his limbs and lips are a little nervous.
The bright hall was empty, and it seemed like someone would come out at any moment.
He watched from the corner of his eye, urging himself to adjust his smile as soon as possible. A few seconds later, he swiped his card neatly, and a "ding dong" prompt sounded above his head.
He pushed open the glass door and walked across the hall towards the residential elevator.
In the first step, no one showed up.
In the second step, no one showed up.
The third step, the fourth step... Every step I take, I feel more uneasy.
After walking fifteen steps, Song Ran stood in front of the two elevators and saw that their running lights were dimmed, and the number stayed on the 01st floor—it meant that he could not meet anyone coming down from the upper floors.
Song Ran sighed in disappointment.
Today, the probability of meeting that man is infinitely approaching zero again.
Song Ran tapped the door button, walked into the elevator, turned around, stared intently at the glass door when he entered, silently praying his last prayers.
Five seconds before the elevator closes.
He has five seconds left.
If someone appears, even if only a strand of broken hair or a piece of clothing is exposed, as long as he sees it, he will slap the door button without hesitation.
But no.
Fate still forgot to favor him.
The elevator doors closed step by step as they did every day before, the shiny four steel walls were stitched together, and there were two rows of built-in frosted lighting overhead. As the floor numbers kept jumping, the atmosphere in the elevator became cramped. Song Ran leaned back against the wall and exhaled a long breath.
It's ok.
he told himself.
What if I don't meet you today? He still has tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the day after tomorrow... As long as he lives here and waits patiently, one day in the future, he will always have a chance to meet that man again.
Songran is quite optimistic. As a children's illustrator, his life is full of pure and interesting fairy tales. Over time, he also maintains a big boy mentality. The children believe in Santa Claus and the laurel tree, and he believes in the fate between people. Even if the futile wait has lasted for more than 40 days, he still believes that fate exists.
What is fate
The fate is probably that on a boring afternoon, Song Ran, who never defaults on rent, received a call from the uncle of the landlord, saying that there was something wrong with his business, and the house had to be taken back and put up for sale, so he could not renew the lease, trouble. He found a place to stay as soon as possible.
Just before receiving the call, Song Ran had just handed in the manuscript and was in a relaxed mood. Rarely had the urge to act like a spoiled child, so he propped his chin, pouted, and complained in a low voice in the editorial department.
Just as he spoke, Aunt Ji, who was searching for discount skirts, read the last line of the Taobao page and pressed the page. The screen fell to blank, giving the ear a second to catch the complaint.
It also happened to be an hour ago that Aunt Ji had a new key in her bag.
This key can open the door of 8012A, Building 5, Bishuiwan Residence.
Aunt Ji has an old bestie who has been with her for decades, surnamed Liu. More than half a year ago, this old best friend and her husband bought a new house in Bishuiwanju. They just finished the decoration and furniture, and they lived there for a few days when their daughter, who was far away in Australia, called and said that it was born early. granddaughter. The couple bought a plane ticket to fly to Melbourne in a hurry. They didn't have time to find foster care for the puppet cat at home. They would not come back until half a year later, so they entrusted Aunt Ji to rent it out to a clean and cat-loving young man. When hiring someone to look after the cats for them both.
The point is, the rent is only charged for two thousand one months.
The old couple, surnamed Liu, are retired professors at F University. They have taught for 30 years and have a deep affection for the campus. They deliberately bought the house within walking distance of Metro Line 10. Coupled with the proximity to the embassy area, good public security and high-end environment, the normal rent of Bishuiwan Residence is about 8,000 per month, which is four times beyond Songran's affordability.
Yes, exactly four times.
In S City, where money is full of money, with Songran's meager income, he can only afford to rent an old house of 30 square meters built in the 1980s and blackened by a briquettes oven.
The one-bedroom that Songran rented before was a product of the last century, leaking water and air, and the lighting was extremely poor. When planning, I didn’t take much care of it. The doors of the two houses on the corner were next to each other, and the security door was often stuck in a stalemate that was difficult to get in and out. When the next door quarreled and slammed the door, "bang bang" hit the door of Songran's house.
Song Ran was so absorbed in his creation that he was easily frightened. As soon as the door collided, his hands shook, and the work he had worked so hard to paint was destroyed. Occasionally with luck, tinkering can save it, most of the time it's just repainting.
The bear child upstairs was also restless. Several times Songran had just finished painting the background, and the bear child jumped on his feet, the white paint on the ceiling was loose, mixed with dust and rustling, and it was covered in fresh, light watercolors. On, blowing can not blow off. He looked at the canvas like a construction site, and after thinking about it, he couldn't find a solution, so he rubbed his hair and sat on the bed in a daze.
To be honest, Song Ran really wanted to say goodbye to the slums, but when a good apartment of 200 square meters, a prime location, and a monthly rent of 2,000 yuan really fell, he found that he could not take advantage of it.
Aunt Ji was warm-hearted, grabbed her bag just after five o'clock, and drove Songran to see the house like a cow.
Song Ran stood at the gate of the community with drawing tools and a cute cat jumper with graffiti on his back, watching private cars with rare car logos passing by, and then was surprised to find that for ten minutes, Apart from them, no third person walked in.
This place is obviously not suitable for mortals to live in - he can't park his old 0-displacement bicycles in the underground garage with these big guys with 4 or 5 displacements
Moreover, there is no vegetable market around.
On the way from the subway station, Songran saw a pet clinic opened by a French doctor, an izakaya with red paper lanterns hanging at the door, a theater comparable to a five-star hotel, an imported supermarket specializing in organic food... Near Bishuiwanju The building has reached the realm of no human fireworks, and Shengsheng has driven the small vegetable market in the downtown area to four or five blocks away. I really don’t know what the rich eat.
The same expenditure of 2,000 yuan, rather than adding 100 square meters of extra space, Songran hopes to exchange for a living environment that suits her, preferably in a lively market community, where you can see old men in vests walking with vegetable baskets when they go out. Teddy's kind.
Song Ran knew what she wanted, so she was persistent.
At least the moment he looked at the house with Aunt Ji, took the elevator down, walked past the two-meter-wide wooden bridge over the shallow pool, and turned his head to look back, he was still trying to find a way to decline, and said, "The rent is too cheap. , the house is big, and I don't have much experience in raising cats, you still... "
During the conversation, a silver-gray Infiniti drove into the field of vision from the right, smoothly slowed down to zero, put in reverse gear, and poured into the umbrella parking space of the fifth building.
More than 40 days have passed, and Song Ran still remembers every frame of the scene.
The windows were rolled down, there was plenty of daylight, and everything seemed pre-arranged to show him the man in the driver's seat in the most perfect way—sitting upright, muscles relaxed, left hand on top of the steering wheel, light blue. The pure cotton shirt has a collar button, and the cuffs are neatly rolled up to the forearm.
His profile line is almost perfect, especially the bridge of the nose and brow bone.
He tilted his neck slightly, the back of his head was pressed against the seat back, the corners of his lips were raised, and he was chatting with the person in the back seat blocked by the window. Because of the happy chat, he smiled naturally, and in those smiling eyes, it seemed that the ultimate tenderness in the world was condensed.
The speed of the car was precisely zeroed in one and a half parking spaces, and it stopped so securely that there was not a centimeter of forward rush. The man changed gears at will, glanced at the rearview mirror out of the corner of his eyes, and began to reverse the car skillfully.
When the direction is full, the wheels rotate, the body draws a perfect arc, and it goes into the warehouse in a hurry.
As the angle changed, the man's profile gradually turned into a frontal one, and his handsome eyebrows and pleasant smile were clearly displayed in front of Song Ran.
Song Ran stood on the wooden bridge, clutching the corner of his T-shirt tightly, feeling his whole body hot.
His eyes once lingered with thousands of charming colors, but at this moment, there was only room for this man.
Song Ran used to read gossip magazines together with the sisters of the publishing house, and read a list called "What Men Do The Most Handsome", and the number one ranking was "Reversing the car". The sisters screamed while holding the magazine, and they all said that they couldn't agree more. Song Ran's face was dazed, and a lively question mark appeared on the top of his head, thinking seriously about how handsome this action is.
Now he is staring at the car, his breathing is disordered, his blood is flowing backwards, his adrenaline is boiling like boiling water, and he truly understands how his sisters felt at that time.
Men are really sexy in the process of reversing smoothly!
In ancient times, a keen hunter's ability to control the direction would make all the females in the race fall for him. This instinct of admiring the strong has been passed down from generation to generation, which has exceeded the scope of reason and has become an incentive to ignite hormones.
The Infiniti's engine turned off, and on the wooden bridge opposite, the love that sprouted in Song Ran's heart was burning hot in his chest.
Twenty-three years later, his long overdue love woke up for the first time.
The man pulled out the key, opened the door and got out of the car.
One meter eighty six.
Or one meter eighty seven.
Song Ran is a kneeling watcher, kneeling in the dust, unable to accurately estimate the man's height, only to see that he has a very good figure, after a day's journey, his appearance is not disordered, and his shirt is as smooth as ever, which vaguely outlines a strong chest and abdomen. Muscles, the hem is neatly tucked into the waistband by the belt, a typical elite style.
He has a pair of long legs, in Song Ran's eyes, that is the scepter of the king - straight, holy, exuding a powerful imposing pressure.
The man stretched out his hand to open the rear door, bent over and reached into his upper body, and when he came out again, there was a small child in his arms. The child wriggled his butt, sat on his father's arm, put his little arm around his neck, and kissed awkwardly on the cheek.
If Song Ran just fell into the huge impact of love, then at this moment, when the picture of a man embracing his young son came into view, Song Ran was almost stunned.
This is a perfect man.
He belongs to the family.
It is difficult for Song Ran to distinguish whether it is the dual identities of husband and father that add a mature texture to this man and make him a fatal attraction, or the happy family behind him, which fills Song Ran's deepest feelings for home. eager.
Songran has no home.
He had it when he was very young and lost it when he was very young.
At this moment, he was standing on the wooden bridge, watching from a distance that the man was holding his young son in his arms, tossing it, catching it, and jokingly walking into the parlor of the fifth building, suddenly turning around and snatching the key from Aunt Ji's hand.
He wants to live here.
Because on a certain floor of this building, a complete family lives, and it may be very close to the 12th floor where he will live. They represent the most admired vision in Songran's heart. Across the walls and the floor, those inaudible and invisible laughter can shelter Songran's heart in imagination.
A good man deserves a good family to match, and sometimes the rules of the world aren't too bad.
Song Ran thought so.
He doesn't disturb the lives of his neighbors, he just wants to get closer, absorb the residual warmth of other people's happiness, and breathe a little bit of family warmth - they are his fairy tales.
No one can enter the fairy tale world, but as long as you believe in its existence, you can live happily.
The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor, and the indicator light came on and flickered softly. Song Ran adjusted her mood from the faint disappointment and walked out of the elevator.
There are two families on each floor of Bishuiwan Residence. Exit the elevator and turn right to Room A and left to Room B. The public area is a smooth beige marble tile surface, and the private space starts from the respective door blankets and extends to the shoe rack and flower stand by the window.
The door rug of Songran's house is huge, a piece of soft tufted material, with a picture of a chipmunk submerged in a pile of pine cones. Last year, he painted the cover and illustrations for "Dream of the Chipmunk". It was a little bit of a hit, and he released a few accessories. Song Ran originally wanted to ask for a doll, but unfortunately the old aunts in the publishing house have grandchildren at home, and their fighting ability is extremely fierce. He squeezed his head and only grabbed a child's play blanket. He couldn't decide where to put it, so he just left it out. When the door blanket. The door rug in Room B, by contrast, is much more serious—a standard-sized rectangle, bristle, dark gray, and the material is fairly stain-resistant, indicating the owner's determined and capable character.
Song Ran took off his canvas shoes, put them straight on the shoe rack, and inserted the access card into the card slot. With a beep, the keyhole flashed out.
He took out the key to open the door, and observed the plants on the flower stand before entering.
Bluebells and sunflowers are growing well, full of color and refreshed in the sun. The soil is soft and moist, so you don't need water for the time being, just spray some water mist on the petals and leaves.
Then he remembered something, turned around, hopped on one foot to the flower table opposite the door, and stretched his neck to take a look - sure enough, the two pots of Casablanca were half dead, and the expensive nutrient soil was dry and cracked. When I first moved in last month, the flower was a little wilted. He couldn't see it, so he quietly helped to water it for two weeks. He might have misunderstood that this flower was in the same family as a cactus, and could live without water, so he just let it go.
Song Ran was worthless for the flowers and plants, made a face at Room B, and jumped back again.
The 12-pound plush dumpling was waiting inside the door. When Songran came back, he first let out a whistling cry, and then fell to the ground with a slap, revealing his white belly, and begging for petting.
Song Ran comforted it, added water and cat food to the cat bowl, and started making dinner for herself.
There are also fresh asparagus and shrimp in the refrigerator. Song Ran fastens the apron and thaws the ingredients. In a small bowl, the shrimp is marinated with shredded cooking wine and ginger. The asparagus is cut with a hob on the cutting board, and the porridge is cooked in a small casserole. He especially liked the sound of thick porridge bubbling, thinking that it was the food singing, so he hummed a tune in a low voice, shaking the pot and spoon to beat the beat.
Stir fry the ingredients over high heat, pour into the porridge pot, and stir clockwise.
Song Ran thought the color was not good-looking, so he added a small spoonful of seafood soy sauce. The steam in the pot is bubbling straight, and the soy sauce is fragrant, and it makes people thirsty to smell it.
When the porridge was cooked and the stove was cleaned, it was already dark outside the window.
Song Ran remembered that she had to spray the flowers and plants, so she picked up the spray bottle, took some water from the tap, and pushed the door open with her slippers. He just pushed open a crack. He felt a little strange in his hand. The door seemed to be blocked by something. He tried harder, and there was a muffled cry in the darkness, the voice of a child.
As soon as the child cried, the voice-activated lights in the public area immediately turned on.
Song Ran stuck his head out of the crack of the door, and saw a little boy sitting on the carpet of the chipmunk door, holding a small schoolbag with his left hand and propping his right hand on the ground, looking up at him with aggrieved expression. A pair of black and watery eyes had bright tears spinning, reminiscent of flowing crystals.
When Song Ran was nervous, a spray of water mist came out of the spray bottle.
"Baby, who are you... Whose child is?"