He quietly ate the breakfast she bought, Siluo watched him eat, he handed it to her, she shook her head and said she couldn't eat it.

He also did not eat, they sat on the bed, hand in hand.

He flipped her hand around, she reached for his mouth and his eyes, and she smiled, and he smiled.

"Why are your hands painted black and your feet red?" he asked her curiously.

And she didn't speak, she continued to look at him. And suddenly, she begged him, and she didn't say what she wanted him to do, but he, he told her to get up and go out for a walk.

He walked to the window and looked at the park below, "Let's go out." In this way, they indulge in reluctance, contradictions, and happiness.

They were silent all the way out, and he took her hand, and she put her fingers between his five fingers, and rested her head on his shoulder, and he hugged her tightly.

He told her that he would be at the airport in two hours, telling her not to think too much about him, this time for a brief separation between them.

Along the way, they were silent, and sometimes, he said to be careful with the steps.

She was tired, and she glanced at him, her eyes full of tears, and it was the warmth of his hands that kept her whole body from wanting to take a step.

The park is full of seniors who exercise early in the morning, and people can also smell the scent of flowers, and gardenias bloom best during the season.

The morning was still cool, and the sun shone gently on their faces through the faint and fresh mist.

"What do you think they're dancing?" There are exercisers and square dancers in the park, all of whom are over the age of 50.

"Each has its own dance, like a group dance but not like a ......," Siluo said.

"You say we're old, aren't we just like them? ”

"I don't know, it's hard to say what will happen in the future. In fact, she also wants to say how good it is to be like them, and in the future, when we are old, we will get up in the morning to exercise, and then go home hand in hand to buy groceries together.

They finished the park, and when they got to the exit, Siluo said, "Just take a taxi here, go early, but there will definitely be traffic jams on the road." ”

They intercepted a taxi, sat in the back seat, and put his hand on the back of his hand.

"You're not going home anymore?" asked Wan Feng.

"I can't go back, that home is not my home, why go back, let people see jokes. ”

He looked at her, didn't know what to say, and squeezed her hand.

"I'm not like the people on our side, I'm more like the people in Suzhou, they all say that. Our coastal city is too realistic, not an ordinary reality, cruel, without family affection......"

The car was stuck in traffic for twenty minutes, so they talked a lot in the car, and they talked a lot the whole time, and she understood that there would be no chance in the future, and there would be no more.

"What kind of life has I experienced, there is no warmth in my heart. ”

"Don't talk about that, I don't understand, then understand, and then be yourself. ”

"Loved your character. ”

She was used to everything in her hometown, and she didn't move as she approached Wan Feng's shoulder, waiting for the car to stop.

Finally arrived at the airport, but she didn't want to go down immediately, even though she had never been so reluctant in her life.

"Siluo, let's go, are you too tired, go back and rest in a while. ”

She thought about the man in front of her, at this moment, maybe he didn't know that she would disappear completely in the future, and he would become a lifetime with him twenty-four hours a day.

"I can't go in, you go in by yourself. Siluo said.

"I hug you. ”

They hugged lightly, and she looked at him with sunglasses as he entered the security checkpoint, and she stood still, he looked back at her, she had disappeared first, walking through the crowd.

All the endings are doomed, and all the tears are flowing at this moment, but they suddenly forget how they got all the way to where they are today.

After this summer, there was no next summer for them, and no matter how much they pursued, the Qunlan, who gradually disappeared after sunset, turned the yellowed title page, and fate bound it very poorly.

With tears in her eyes, she wrote about him over and over again, but she had to admit that every time it was a book that was too hasty.

She walked a long way and didn't find the bus, she went in the wrong direction, there was a message from him on her phone, and she didn't look at it, afraid that she would cry even more when she saw it.

Perhaps he was already on the plane at this moment, and fell asleep because he was so tired last night that his phone was turned off.

She finally got on the bus, and she couldn't stand it when she thought of the evening maple.

It was as if he had gone back and had married and had a happy life, and that life came from outside of their own bodies. Siluo seems to feel that compared to her, she is far less happy than the person who has lived with him all his life.

She felt that life had begun to play tricks on her. She felt that she had understood this, and she had vague suicidal thoughts.

She couldn't get rid of this thought in her life. She felt that she had developed a vague idea of living a single life.

She went back to her room at the hotel where she had been, and she kept the deck of playing cards in her bag forever.

The air conditioner in the room is on, which is the most comfortable and cool, but the mood of Siluo is not beautiful at all.

Walking out of that room, no one knew her story, ran to a nearby tavern alone, drank a lot of beer, and she was so drunk that she made a call to Wanfeng with the strength of the wine.

Maybe she didn't drink enough, so she stumbled on the phone for a long time, and finally didn't have the courage to say something she wanted to say.

Later, she could only write in novels, from this book to the next, and she didn't completely write the story in her heart, and she didn't express it in the most beautiful words.

She looked out from the camera, and the end of the lens was Wan Feng, and every time she wrote an article, the male protagonist was his shadow, and she couldn't write anyone else under her pen.