Walking out of 108, Yan Zhuo couldn't help applauding himself.
What is courage, this is courage.
When Yan Zhuo was going up the stairs, he met nurse Zhang who was going downstairs. He was in a good mood because he had just educated someone, so he greeted nurse Zhang with a smile.
Infected by his smile, nurse Zhang asked, "What's the matter, I'm so happy."
Yan Zhuo shook his head and said, "It's nothing."
It is a pity that his happiness cannot be shared.
"Haha... well," nurse Zhang said, "You young people just like to talk and only talk halfway."
As she spoke, she shook her head and walked down the steps. But when she got to the first floor, she suddenly turned around and asked, "That—Yan Zhuo, did you study art?"
Yan Zhuo let out a "hmm" and asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," said nurse Zhang, "I have two unused drawing boards at my place and I'll bring them to you later."
"Drawing board?" Yan Zhuo said, "Where did you get it?"
"Alas!" Zhang nurse said: "It's 108—" She suddenly became softer, "It belongs to the young man in 108. Every time he smashed things and I went to clean them up, he would make me throw them away together with the drawing board, but , Those drawing boards are all new, it’s a pity to throw them away, so I secretly put them away, and I’ll bring them to you if you want them.”
Yan Zhuo frowned, and asked in a daze, "Why did he throw the drawing board?"
"I don't know that."
Something flashed into his head, and he asked, "Aunt Zhang, are there any pencils among the debris you packed?"
"Yes!" Worker Zhang said directly without thinking much, "There are a lot of them, all of which were broken."
As far as this is concerned, Yan Zhuo understands. I understand why Song Yan asked him to help buy painting supplies. It turned out to be for the next "violence".
Yan Zhuo asked nurse Zhang: "Won't you be very angry when he does this?"
Zhang nurse sighed, and said earnestly: "Why are you angry? A young boy suddenly suffered such a big setback. If I think about it in another way, I may be more unacceptable than him, even more than him. Besides, Xiao Song he..." Zhang Zhang paused for two seconds, "He will give me two hundred yuan every time I finish cleaning. Although I don't want it, he said I deserve it."
Yan Zhuo was slightly startled, remembering the scene where Song Yan handed him the money just now.
He asked: "Aunt Zhang, does Mr. Song like to express his gratitude with money?"
Zhang nurse was confused, as if she didn't understand Yan Zhuo's words. She said, "I don't know what you mean, but I know that everyone has their own way of expression. I like Mr. Song's way of expression very much."
Yan Zhuo suddenly realized.
In other words, Song Yan may have misunderstood that he, like nurse Zhang, also likes this way of expression. That's why I'll give you money.
After nurse Zhang left, the villains in Yan Zhuo's mind started fighting.
"You should say sorry," said one.
Another said: "You don't need to say sorry, because you didn't mean it either, maybe he will forget it in a few days."
Yan Zhuo was distressed, unable to make a choice for a long time. Finally, he mustered up the courage to move slowly step by step to the door of 108, and knocked on the door resignedly.
"Mr. Song, can I go in?"
After about two or three seconds, a voice came from inside. Song Yan said, "Come in."
Yan Zhuo pushed the door and walked in.
"What's wrong?" Song Yan asked him. His complexion is not very good-looking.
Well, Yan Zhuo is doing psychological training for himself: No matter who it is, it will be in a bad mood if it is educated for no reason. .
He tried his best to ignore Song Yan's displeasure, and said, "That... I just, just now—"
He stumbled, Song Yan frowned: "What?"
Yan Zhuo said awkwardly, "Can you give me the travel expenses just now?"
"Hiss—" Yan Zhuo wished he could bite his tongue off on the spot, that's not what he wanted to express!
"No." Song Yan directly rejected his request.
Yan Zhuo asked: "Why not?"
Song Yan said: "Money has no sincerity."
He returned what he said intact.
You always have to pay it back when you come out to hang out. Yan Zhuo never thought that one day he would choke to death on what he said.
He discussed with Song Yan: "Can I take back what I said?"
Song Yan: "No."
Yan Zhuo: "..."
"Then can you forgive my inappropriate words just now?"
"cannot."
Depend on.
Yan Zhuo couldn't hold back anymore. Although Song Yan had such a personality, he still felt embarrassed, extremely embarrassed. If he had known this was the case, he would have thought of apologizing only after his brain twitched.
Forget it, there is no way to say this. Yan Zhuo was about to leave, but before he could speak, Song Yan asked, "Have you finished?"
"Ah—" Yan Zhuo didn't react for a while, and said in a daze, "It's over."
Song Yan nodded, "Then you can go, remember to close the door."
Yan Zhuo: "..."
In just a few minutes, he was stunned several times.
Yan Zhuo swears that if he sticks his face to Song Yan's cold butt again, he will only eat instant noodles and seasoning packets for the rest of his life.
After leaving the door, Yan Zhuo still felt suffocated. He was eloquent since he was a child, and he always had the upper hand in arguing with others. He had never had the experience of being speechless. But now that he has met, in every conversation with Song Yan in the past two days, he was either hated or rejected, and he was really defeated. If he hadn't always been very popular, he might have doubted himself.
As the saying goes, people, don't stand up casually, it's easy to get slapped in the face.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, Yan Zhuo was hanging things in the hall.
Suddenly a loud noise was heard, followed by the sound of smashing things from Song Yan's room.
Yan Zhuo was startled, jumped off the stool and ran towards 108.
Unfortunately, the door was bolted from the inside, and he couldn't open it from the outside.
Yan Zhuo's loud knock on the door and the sound of things being smashed inside the house formed a duet.
Worker Zhang ran over and stopped him and said, "Don't knock it, let Mr. Song smash it, and he will stop when he feels comfortable after smashing it."
Yan Zhuo laughed angrily, and he said: "Let's not say that the people living in the next room are all old people who are easily frightened, but his uncontrollable venting of his temper is not good for his health."
Anyone who doesn't understand the truth, nurse Zhang understands it, but she has no way to stop Song Yan, she can only accept it silently, and then clean it up quietly after the mess.
…
The people inside the house were finally quiet, but the people outside were in complicated moods.
After a while, the door opened, and Song Yan leaned against the door frame, without focusing on the distance, and said, "Nurse Zhang, come in."
He seemed to have expected that guard Zhang would be waiting at the door.
Nursing Zhang responded, and when she was about to enter the house, she was stopped by Yan Zhuo. He took the broom and dustpan from her hand, and walked into the house without hesitation.
"I'll go," he said.
Song Yan suddenly heard him speak, froze for a second, raised his eyebrows and said: "It's you again?"
It seemed that Song Yan was already very familiar with his voice, Yan Zhuo said, "So what if it's me, I will come over whenever you smash something in the future."
He thought to himself: I have to meddle in my own business again, I can't eat instant noodles anymore.
Song Yan: "..."
He had never seen such a sticky human-shaped brown sugar.
"Whatever you want," he said. Then he went into the bathroom.
Yan Zhuo pursed his lips, and began to clean up the "smashed" objects seriously.
When he was hit in the morning, he was afraid that the lead in the pencil would break. Now it seems that he was thinking too much, the meaning of them being bought back by him is that they were smashed to pieces by Song Yan.
Yan Zhuo suddenly thought of the two most common jokes his former art teacher said—
First, you can't get into college if you eat still life.
Second, love the paintbrush in your hand like your wife.
From this point of view, Song Yan should not be able to marry a wife and have no one to take care of him, so he came to the nursing home alone.
While complaining about Song Yan, he cleaned the floor, and accidentally found a trace of blood when he was emptying the trash into the dustpan.
Yan Zhuo took a closer look, the blood had already dried up and remained on the 2b pencil, the trace should have been accidentally cut when sharpening the pencil.
He thought for a while, and glanced at the bathroom. Song Yan didn't know what he was doing, and kept running the faucet to turn on the water, but he couldn't come out.
Yan Zhuo walked to the window sill and searched for a while, and sure enough he found a pencil sharpener in the corner. He pushed it away to see that there was also blood on the blade.
Can't the eyes see and even sharpen a pen
Yan Zhuo picked up a pencil from the ground, closed his eyes and tried it with the knife. As it turned out, there was no problem with him. I don't know how Song Yan was injured.
He sighed.
This situation is kind of sad. It's like a chef can't hold a kitchen knife, a mason can't hold a brick knife, and a boxer has broken arms with only mutilated scars.
And painters... can't sharpen their pencils well, so they can't draw anymore.
In the field that I am most familiar with, I can't even do the most basic things. This blow is no less than a nuclear bomb explosion.
After a while, Song Yan came out, and he washed the wound with water, and now there was a dense pain in the wound.
Yan Zhuo carefully noticed that his left index finger was slightly raised, and asked, "Do you have any Band-Aids in your room?"
Song Yan was taken aback, curled up his index finger, and refused to answer the question directly: "No need."
do it. Another rejection.
Yan Zhuo was really losing his temper.
He put down the pencil sharpener and continued to clean up the trash.
Song Yan groped his way to the edge of the bed and sat down, opened the cigarette case and lit a cigarette, scarlet flames burning on his fingertips.
Yan Zhuo, who was working hard at the side, gave him a sideways glance. He knocked the iron dustpan heavily and made a long sound on the ground.
Song Yan followed the voice and turned his head slightly: "You don't have to do it."
"But that's what nurse Zhang does." Yan Zhuo raised his voice unconsciously.
Song Yan turned her head, her voice flat and unwavering: "That's her job."
"Yeah, it's her job," Yan Zhuo said, "You even give her money, so she doesn't lose money at all, right?"
He spoke a little aggressively, with a little temper unconsciously.
Song Yan laughed with a "heh", maybe because he thought he was puzzled, maybe because he was simply too lazy to talk to him, and then fell silent after laughing.
He didn't speak, Yan Zhuo didn't know how to go down the donkey, instead he pushed his nose up and said, "Don't you think your way of venting is sick?"
The word "morbid" irritated Song Yan, and his hand resting on the side of the bed was slightly hideous because of the bulging veins.
Yan Zhuo was startled, maybe he also thought that he used the wrong words, he paused for a few seconds and continued: "If you want, you can change it."
"But I don't want to," Song Yan said, with a very ugly face, "Don't meddle in your own business, you can go out now."
This is the second time Yan Zhuo has been kicked out by him, and he can even accept it peacefully.
He put down his things and walked out the door.
He didn't see nurse Zhang at the door, so he found another nurse to clean Song Yan's room.
Yan Zhuo went to the hall and sat down, holding his forehead helplessly, as if he was always challenging Song Yan's temper.
But he couldn't explain why, so he felt that trying to piss him off was better than the other party's expressionless face suddenly accumulating temper and bursting out.
After all, Song Yan's anger is irregular and uncontrollable. No one can guess when his next outburst will be.
Yan Zhuo waited tremblingly for a few days, but Song Yan didn't throw things around, which made him a little relieved.