Before dinner, Lin Shichu returned.

Forsythia was pleasantly surprised.

She couldn't remember the last time they had eaten at the same table.

In the years when he was studying abroad, although she would fly over to see him once in a while, the two of them never sat down together and had a meal calmly.

Sad?

Not.

Because for her, even if she looked at him from afar, even if she followed him secretly, she was just as happy.

He is her obsession, her demand, her treasure, her heart's meat.

My aunt was right, she never thought he would hurt her. Because he was the one who could risk his life to protect her when he was sixteen!

How could such a person really do something to hurt her?!

In fact, she knew how good he was, long before the accident.

To be precise, long before he stepped into Lianzhuang on his first day, and she stood high on the spiral staircase in the center of the living room, recognizing him at a glance.

She should have just turned ten years old that year, and she hadn't spoken since she was six.

She suddenly lost her voice after witnessing her mother's death.

For four years, she never said a word.

On that day, she was taken by Yu Siyin, who was just her tutor at the time, to participate in a study tour of a famous school, which coincided with the June 1st Art Show.

The auditorium was filled with people.

Seeing that she was not in high spirits, Yu Siyin was already preparing to take her away.

When she reached the door, she stopped suddenly, because she heard a familiar melody, and soon, the piano sounded crisply.

When she turned her head, she saw a boy in a white shirt and black overalls sitting in the center of the stage playing the piano intently.

Later, while her aunt was talking to the principal, she sneaked out, but she didn't expect to run into the boy again while walking.

So, after four years of losing her voice, the first thing she said was, "What is the name of the tune you just played?" ”

The boy's delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, probably not expecting a girl's voice to be hoarse like this.

But he replied to her anyway, "Your Name." ”

She lifted her face and said, "Play it for me again." ”

The boy obviously felt unhappy because of her rudeness, but instead of directly rejecting her, he smiled, "But I'm going back to the junior high school next door now." ”

"I have to rush back to class. ”

She didn't follow, "Skipping class." ”

"I want to hear it. ”

"Even if I skip class and don't have a piano," the boy seemed to be seriously considering, "I won't be able to play it to you!"

Then she stopped talking and just kept looking at him.

Eventually, she heard the tune, but he picked it up from the phone around her neck and played it to her.

But his hands, there are playing.

Later, Forsythia would always unconsciously recall his thin and long fingers, lifting and falling in the air, left and right, up and down.

His hands are beautiful.

The face is also good-looking.

Even the way he sits with his back straight is very good-looking.

There was a sudden sharp discomfort in the heart, and the beauty in my mind was disturbed for a moment, and under patience, Forsythia's already white and translucent face became more and more white and close to transparent, as if it would melt away at any time.

It is a rejection reaction.

It's getting more and more frequent.

On the other side, Lin Shichu suddenly put down the chopsticks in his hand, lifted his long eyelashes like a dense fan, and looked at her head-on, "What do you want to say?"