As the New Year is approaching, the snow is slowly falling, and people who rush home are blocked in the middle of the road.
The single in the car looped a trembling ballad, no one said a word, and the atmosphere was a bit awkward.
Xu Xilin put one hand on the steering wheel and glanced forward, only to see that the buttocks of the cars lined up seemed to have stretched to the horizon, and the brake lights were bright one after another. , Mr. Dou Xun in the co-pilot rested his head with one hand and was in a daze. He hadn't seen him for many years, and Dou Xun had no intention of paying attention to him.
Xu Xilin sighed secretly, and suddenly he turned the car with great skill through the small gap on the side of the road, and got into the small alley next to him.
Dou Xun was finally startled and glanced at him.
Xu Xilin kept staring at him out of the corner of the light, and immediately said, "It's probably faster to walk on the small road, I think..."
Dou Xun sneered and continued, "Get rid of me as soon as possible?"
Xu Xilin: "... buy some flowers along the way."
In the above sentence, the two of them spoke almost at the same time, and then closed their mouths at the same time. Xu Xilin frowned, as if he wanted to attack, but he held back.
"It's still that virtue, why are you angry with him?" Xu Xilin thought about it, and went through the small alley with all his heart and soul.
The northwest wind and the barking of dogs complement each other, and the folk singer is weak and dying.
Xu Xilin parked the car at the door of a flower shop called "Grandpa", took out his mobile phone and dialed a number: "Hey, it's me. I'm at the door of your shop, bring me a few pots of kumquat Phalaenopsis or something for the festival. Give it away."
There was a loud voice on the other end of the phone, his voice pierced through the receiver, and filled the cramped cab with domineering sidelines: "Little Linzi, you still have the heart to buy flowers! You are about to be in trouble!"
Xu Xilin: "..."
The window of the flower shop facing the street opened in response, and a non-mainstream young man with a mustache emerged. I saw the brain-dead shopkeeper put down his mobile phone, became angry in his dantian, and shouted in a higher voice: "Dou Xun is back, you heard that Yet!"
Xu Xilin wished that his arms could grow two feet longer, and slapped this man into the window frame.
The window of the co-pilot facing the flower shop slowly fell, and Dou Xun showed his face: "I heard."
The owner's face was like a pheasant being strangled by the neck.
Then the florist shop owner, who was silent, and Dou Xun, whose face was sinking like water, helped Xu Xilin move a few pots of flowers into the trunk of the car. Before leaving, the flower shop owner scratched his ears and cheeks for a long time before carefully pulling Xu Xilin: "What, next week We have a party in our class, are you going?"
Xu Xilin wanted to get rid of these embarrassing people now, lifted his eyelids, and answered absently, "Let's talk about it."
Shopkeeper: "Go, you haven't shown your face for so many years."
Xu Xilin got angry when he saw him, didn't answer, waved his hand, and drove away.
Half an hour later, Xu Xilin finally sent Dou Xun back to the hotel where he stayed. Dou Xun got out of the car without saying a word, and stood beside him and looked at him quietly.
Xu Xilin breathed a sigh of relief in secret: "Okay, you can rest, I'll go first."
Dou Xun nodded first, then touched his coat pocket. The cigarette case he touched was already empty. He subconsciously stopped the person next to him: "Hey..."
Xu Xilin stopped the car that had slipped half a meter: "Huh?"
Dou Xun swallowed the three words "Do you have a cigarette?" because he remembered that Xu Xilin did not smoke.
Xu Xilin doesn't smoke, doesn't drink alcohol unless necessary to socialize, doesn't stab at things that he can't handle, and even knows how to pay attention to fights when he was a child - he has been such a person who seems to be unreliable since he was a child, but in fact he has never been out of the circle.
Xu Xilin: "Is there anything else?"
Dou Xun lowered his eyes slightly: "You never go to parties because you don't want to see me?"
Xu Xilin: "..."
Dou Xun, this club, will probably never learn how to leave room for himself and others in this life.
Xu Xilin said bluntly: "I was too busy in the past few years, so I didn't care."
"Aren't you busy this year?" Dou Xun stared at him, "I'm going too, are you going?"
When Dou Xun spoke, he brought up a thin layer of white steam, and he stood in the winter, like a pair of white line drawings that lacked red and green. It looked good, but he had a knife in his eyes and a blade on the tip of his tongue. Xu Xilin was about to stab him in the eye, the humanoid weapon that Tuanyoumei killed, so he could only say vaguely, "I'm not sure, let's see if there is anything else."
Dou Xun had nothing to say, and stood silently in the same place, watching Xu Xilin politely say goodbye again and leave.
"Can you look back at me?" he thought silently in his heart, "you look back at me, now I can climb to the roof and jump down."
It's a pity that others can't read minds, so Xu Xilin closed the car window and left cleanly.
Dou Xun didn't jump into this building.
The unpleasant car-mounted ballads were still reeling endlessly. Xu Xilin passed through the surroundings of the twilight and felt that his vision was a little blurry - it seemed to be foggy.
This is the thirteenth year that he and Dou Xun have known each other.
Up to now, the returnee who hitchhiked with his mobile phone and the passerby who happened to want to pick him up just after get off work meet each other. Love and hate are easy to explain.
... The phone rang, Xu Xilin looked at it, and Dou Xun gave him a good review.
At this time, the sky is still clear, the ground is still thick, the traffic is still congested, the earth has not been destroyed, and the remaining years are still abundant.
The school buildings, books, pen and paper of that year have been put out.
Only the old becomes the new.
The author has something to say: I have written "One Tree Life" by bl and "Fifteen Years of Streamer" by bg on similar topics, and they are both ugly, so according to historical statistics, this one is very likely to be ugly. .
[Volume 1: Shallots]