On the way home, Yu Wanwan's expression was much lower.

Luo Yichen noticed that her eye circles were a little red, and she wanted to speak several times, but in the end she didn't speak.

When I got home, I started cleaning up every night.

Luo Yichen sat on the sofa, watching her tie her apron, mop the floor again and again, wipe the tables and chairs over and over again, even the windows, door cracks, every corner was not spared.

A trace of hair hung down from her sideburns, and Luo Yichen felt that she was very gentle with such concentration, and the words "years of quietness" popped up in her mind.

"Let an aunt do it over there, so you can make it easier. ”

"No, Mr. Luo. Let me do it myself, I think that's good. ”

"Why?"

"A sense of family ritual. ”

"What's the matter?"

"When I was a kid, my mom would take us to clean up once a week. My brother and I are also participating, and looking at the spotless house is a great sense of accomplishment.

If you take care of it together, you will identify with this family more in your heart. ”

"Are you disgusted that I didn't do the housework with you?"

"Nope. I just love the sense of family rituals. ”

Luo Yichen asked for a while, and it was the first time he had seen someone who could talk about housework so freshly and refinedly. I smiled in my heart, then shook my head.

"It doesn't matter how I feel, though. If Mr. Luo thinks that I am not doing well, I will transfer an aunt from the old house. It's okay. ”

"This is your home, why doesn't it matter how you feel?

Yu Wanwan lowered her head and didn't speak, and when she wiped the table again, her movements were much lighter, with a little carelessness.

After finishing the housework, Yu Wanwan stood on the balcony for a long time. The snow kept falling, and after a while, the sky and the earth turned white.

It seems that I haven't seen such good snow for a long time, and I am reluctant to leave when I stand on the balcony at night.

Luo Yichen walked over with her mobile phone,

"Your phone keeps ringing. ”

"Oh, thanks. ”

Yu Wanwan took the mobile phone, it was an unfamiliar number, and it seemed to be a transnational call.

"Hello?"

"May I ask if you are Yu Wanwan?"

"Well, yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Yuan Chaoyang. ”

Yuan Chaoyang: Yu Wanwan quickly searched for a face that matched the name in her mind, but she didn't remember it after thinking about it for a long time.

After a long silence, the other side spoke again, with obvious disappointment in his tone.

"Don't you remember? in the A large library, Márquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude". ”

Library, "One Hundred Years of Solitude", with the embedding of these keywords, a sunny and handsome shadow appeared in front of Yu Wanwan's eyes.

Yuan Chaoyang, a talented person in the journalism department of A University, is as his name suggests, like a blazing sun everywhere, with a lovely smile. It's warm to look at.

When I was a freshman, I often went to the library in the evening and often sat in the corner by the window to read.

At that time, Yuan Chaoyang always sat next to Yu Wanwan and read a book, and he had a very good smell of grass.

The two never spoke, until one day, Yu Wanwan wanted to watch "One Hundred Years of Solitude".

This book is on the fifth floor of the most bookcase, and Yu Wanwan tiptoed enough for a long time to reach it.

"Classmate, do you want to take "One Hundred Years of Solitude"? ”

"Yes, thank you so much. ”

"Like Marquez?"

"Hmm. ”

"There's also his "Love in the Time of Cholera" and "Memoirs of a Bitter Prostitute" and "The General in the Labyrinth" over there, and I can help you take them down together. ”

"Thank you. How do you know where these books are?"

"Because I like Marquez too. ”

"What's your name?"

"Yuan Chaoyang. ”

"My name is Yu Wanwan. ”

"I know. ”