By the time he "escaped" from Lu Li's house in a hurry, it was already three poles in the morning. It wasn't until I sat down in the leather chair in my office that I breathed a sigh of relief. Patting my chest, I began to flip through the papers on my desk. As soon as he picked up a summary of the latest scientific research progress materials compiled by Qian Lan, a delicate envelope fell to the ground.

I didn't take it seriously, and habitually picked it up. The envelope is made of the same old brown thick kraft paper, and when you pinch it in your hand, the rough texture gives it a heavy texture. The seal is also sealed with a very good style of dark red fire paint, if there is anything unique, it is the fire paint seal it uses, for some reason, it is a half-opened and unopened Kumuna, the edge is plated with a layer of gold.

That's interesting, Kumuna. Related to this is the story of Devadatta shooting the Buddha with an arrow, and the arrow turning into a lotus flower. However, compared to the deeds of the Buddha who repaid his grievances with virtue and eternal benevolence, I prefer a short story in the "Collected Sutras of the Buddha's Practice": In order to retain the heart of Prince Siddhartha, the King of Pure Rice built a palace for him in winter, summer, spring, and autumn, and the garden was full of various lotus flowers such as Kumuna.

The Buddha has no turning back, only the endless waiting, and the Buddha can purify sentient beings, but he cannot resolve the obsession of waiting. If you turn around, you will not become a Buddha, and if you become a Buddha, you are destined to live up to that wait. When I saw the fire paint seal of this Kumuna, I had a lot of thoughts for a while.

What the Buddha thought at that time, you can't say. There was no information about the sender on the envelope. I carefully opened the seal, and there was only a thin piece of stationery, which was extremely disproportionate to the heavy envelope.

I unfolded the letterhead, which was as thin as a cicada's wings, and the words on it were simple but heavy: Joe's father should not have fallen in love with a woman from country E, and if he fell in love, he should not abandon her. Joe is a disgrace to him, what can the Joe couple do? The devil kills Joe, but Joe's heart loves the devil's son, Joe is so pitiful.

And Joe is Qiao Xun.

This name that has made me love and hurt, this name that makes me say goodbye to the past. After a long time, I thought I had put Qiao Xun down, but I didn't expect to see his name again, and my eyes would still feel stinging.

Didn't Qiao Xun die because of me? What does this letter mean?

Lu Li is right, there is a hurdle in my heart, and the name of this hurdle is Qiao Xun. No matter how hard you try to forget, you can't easily erode it. There will always be such an opportunity, and I will be tripped over such a hurdle and my efforts will be lost.

Joe, Qiao Xun, I muttered his name, my eyes locked on the last sentence. Son of the Devil...... Is it Oak?

Wait, after Qiao Xun died, the secretary who came to me said who Qiao Xun's father was.

Coincidentally, Lu Li, he is also surnamed Lu.

What an embarrassing juncture.

With a letter, Qiao Xun became Lu Li's younger brother of the same father. Oh, it's really unfavorable, a Lu Oak is enough to make people embarrassed, I thought that Lu Oak and I were destined to die to the ground, but if, if what the letter said is true, where should Lu Oak and I go?

Things in the world are often scary. Cold sweat oozed from my back, and I felt dizzy for a moment.

Over the years, I have learned from the habit of careful verification that you should not make any conclusions based on the words of one family. It was just an unknown letter, and I comforted myself.

At the very least, I'm going to ask Lu Li for an explanation.

I don't know how I got out of the office. Director Luo's words and mysterious letters, I deeply feel that the negative signals that followed are constantly adding tragic footnotes to the delicate relationship between me and Lu Li.

Xu had been in the fully enclosed building of Qingang for too long, and when he came out suddenly, the sun was shining, and the people who were stabbed were a little unable to open their eyes. I simply raised my right hand and gently covered my eyes.

Maybe it's a delusion. The palm of the right hand, unconsciously, climbed up to the wet.

Cool, from the palm of the hand, all the way to the bottom of the heart.