Zhou Yanqing was a little busy these days, not because of work, but because Wen Wan and Aunt Zhao moved to him from the nursing home.
Although Aunt Zhao received Song Yu's orders and told her about moving out in front of Wen Wan every day before moving in, and showed her various photos of the new home in order to let her get used to it in advance, but the newly moved For a few days, Wen Wan still lost her temper, screamed, or went on a hunger strike because she had difficulty adapting to the new environment.
Aunt Zhao is too busy taking care of Wen Wan who is out of control, so she has no time to do other things, so these days, Zhou Yanqing will go home to cook for Aunt Zhao and Wen Wan after work at noon these days, to help Aunt Zhao relieve a little burden , After work in the afternoon, I will rush home in a hurry.
The Internet farce about Han Jin has slowly come to an end, just like a boulder dropped into the lake, no matter how big the splash is, and no matter how big the waves are, under the touch of time, it will eventually return to calm.
But Zhou Yanqing knew that this was only the calm on the surface, and the undercurrent was surging at the bottom of the lake. He was worried, but he didn't intend to intervene, and Song Yu didn't give him a chance to intervene.
Ever since the two had a brief conversation on the day when Han Jin was on Hot Search privately, Song Yu never gave him another chance to participate, no matter whether it was an interview that night, or discussing something with Meng Shiping in the past few days.
In the evening, the sky was already dark, and it was half an hour before get off work, Zhou Yan knocked on the door of Song Yu's office after dawdling for a while.
After waiting for a few seconds, the familiar "come in" did not come from inside.
Zhou Yanqing was about to knock again, but with a "click", the door was opened from the inside.
"What's wrong?" Song Yu's slightly hoarse voice sounded, with a gentle expression as usual.
Zhou Yan frowned slightly, and asked worriedly: "What's wrong with your voice?" It was fine in the morning.
Song Yu squeezed his Adam's apple, smiled and replied, "I don't know, maybe I have a cold."
Zhou Yanqing was not fooled by the perfunctory words. Song Yu's body exuded a strong smell of cigarettes, which was clearly due to excessive smoking, not a cold at all.
"I have medicine." But he returned to his seat, grabbed his backpack, and quickly found the medicine and handed it to Song Yu, "Here are cold medicine and throat lozenges, I'll get you a glass of warm water."
Song Yu grabbed Zhou Yanqing's wrist: "Half an hour ago you made me a cup of scented tea in a thermos, and I haven't finished it yet."
"I... I forgot..." Zhou Yan smiled awkwardly, "Then drink more water."
"Okay, I will." Song Yu could see Zhou Yanqing's panic and anxiety hidden under his calm appearance these days, the hand on Zhou Yanqing's slender wrist tightened, and he changed the subject abruptly ,"Are you looking for me?"
"I..." Zhou Yan looked down at the hand encircling his wrist, feeling an urge to hold it back, but the courage collapsed before it could gather up, and he raised his head and said in a low voice , "I just want to ask, my aunt has lived with me for several days, why don't you go and see her?"
Wen Wan was sent to him by the staff of the nursing home, and he has been staying there for a few days, but Song Yu didn't take a look, or even ask.
"Go." Song Yu gave an affirmative answer, and there was another turning point, "But I'm a bit busy these days, how about a couple of days?"
Whether Song Yu is really busy, Zhou Yanqing is not sure, but he really hasn't seen Song Yu much these days.
In the past few days, when he came to the company every morning, Song Yu had already arrived early, and when he left at night, Song Yu often hadn't left yet. And during the whole day, Song Yu hardly walked out of his office, so even if there was only a wooden door, if he didn't take the initiative to knock on it, he and Song Yu might not meet each other for a day.
Song Yu seldom went out before, but Zhou Yanqing keenly felt that Song Yu's silence these days was different from the past, unusually silent, as if he was quietly waiting for something.
"Okay..." Zhou Yan replied softly, but he couldn't tie Song Yu away.
"Well, you should go back early." Song Yu responded lightly and let go.
Zhou Yanqing watched the five slender and white fingers on his wrist suddenly loosen and droop under the force of gravity. He hurriedly stretched out his hand, trying to grab it, but because the reaction was too slow, he snatched it up in vain. His heart also fell, and he thumped, a strong sense of shock spread from the position of the heart to all the limbs.
Before he could think about why this abnormality occurred, a warm palm had already covered the top of his head, then slid down the hair and landed on the sideburns, pinching it with soft fingertips. his earlobe.
The palpitations subsided quickly, and a scalding heat surged up, rushing to the eyes, ears, mouth and nose. There was a tingle in his ears, and Zhou Yan couldn't help tilting his head, looking at Song Yu blankly, and didn't say anything for a long time.
Song Yuqing let out a "heh", with a gentle smile in his eyes, he rubbed Zhou Yanqing's hair again, and said, "Go to your place for dinner in a few days."
Song Yu's hand had fallen back to his side, but the tingling numbness on his earlobe was even worse. Zhou Yan responded lightly, turned around and walked out of the office quickly, and fled towards the toilet.
Watching Zhou Yanqing's figure flash past the glass mirror, Song Yu took a long time to look away. The warm touch of his fingertips was still there, and he subconsciously twisted it. The intention is also completely gathered.
As soon as he turned around, Song Yu's eyes were filled with coldness, he closed the office door again, and sat back to his fixed position on the sofa.
After that, no one came to knock on the door, Zhou Yanqing returned home, Meng Shiping was not in the company today, after everyone got off work, the whole company and even the whole world slowly fell into the night.
Song Yu took out the last cigarette from the cigarette case, and when he went to get the lighter, he paused and withdrew his hand, then inserted the cigarette into the cigarette case again, and picked up the box of moisturizer that Zhou Yanqing gave him on the table. Throat lozenges stuffed into his mouth.
The sweet throat lozenges melted in the mouth, and the refreshing coolness spread quickly, relieving many discomforts.
He can smoke, but he rarely smokes. These days, his thoughts are restless, and his body and mind feel that he can't find a foothold. Nicotine can slightly fill that feeling of emptiness.
With the tip of his tongue against the lozenge in his mouth, Song Yu glanced at his watch, seeing that the time was almost up, he picked up the mobile phone on the table, opened the calling software, and edited the last message of the day.
After clicking send, Song Yu leaned wearily against the sofa and closed his eyes. He didn't sleep, and he didn't deliberately think about something or someone, so he let the trivial old things flash in his mind frame by frame like a marquee, and he didn't freeze or capture them.
When the past thirty-two years of life began to run through my mind for the second time, the phone on the table suddenly dinged.
Song Yu tensed his waist and straightened up, and picked up the mobile phone on the table neatly. It was a message from Chai Richeng.
[he came.]
After waiting for several days, this message finally came, much earlier than he expected.
Song Yu pinched the center of his brows, swept away the fatigue on his face, grabbed the coat on the back of the sofa, and walked out of the office while wearing it.
There is no one in the company anymore, the headlights have been turned off, leaving only a row of spotlights above the aisle.
Song Yu was dressed in chilling black, with deep-set pupils and a stern expression. He passed straight through a row of bright spotlights, like Hades demanding his life.
When he reached the door of the tea room, he stopped, turned right and walked in. There is a knife holder on the operating table, and there are two fruit knives and two scissors, which are usually used by company staff to cut fruit.
Song Yu glanced at it, and directly took off the small fruit knife with the scabbard, pulled out the scabbard and slapped it on the palm of his hand, it felt cold to the touch, and the blade shone with a cold and sharp light.
The blade is ten centimeters long, just right.
Song Yu put the fruit knife back into its sheath, hid it in his sleeve, and went straight downstairs.