Six thirty o'clock.

On Mo Chunshan's mobile phone, he received a call from He Wan'er.

The bell rang for half a minute, but as if he hadn't heard it, he raised his head, stared at the slender and tall figure more than ten meters away.

As the night grew darker, she had been waiting for him on the side of the road for more than half an hour. He didn't reply to WeChat, and he didn't answer the phone, what is she thinking about now?

The street lights were already on, but in the not-so-bright light, he couldn't see her expression clearly, only to see her turn and stride, and disappear around the corner in a few seconds.

Mo Chunshan moved his already numb legs and smiled self-deprecatingly.

She finally got tired of waiting, and now she must be dying of anger - standing in the cold wind for half an hour was really embarrassing for her.

Feeling his legs regain sensation, he sighed, started the engine, and was about to drive away, only to find that she had reappeared where she had been standing.

The difference is that she held a paper bag with half of the fried chicken thigh wrapped in one hand, and a cup of milk tea in the other, looked left and right, and suddenly disappeared into the corner.

Do you still need to ask? It must have been eaten behind someone's back.

Mo Chunshan remembered a picture she had seen in her circle of friends, and muttered to herself: "No one sees it, is it zero calories?"

He shook his grin, looked sideways, but once again, saw his own face in the rearview mirror.

The face in the mirror, strange and dangerous, did not look like himself at all.

A strange look, a strange smile, a smile like that—the spring breeze is warm.

After He Wan'er finished eating the fried chicken milk tea, he took a wet paper towel to carefully clean up the fingers and corners of his mouth that were stained with oil, took out the powder box lipstick and quickly touched up his makeup with the surprised eyes of pedestrians.

Just now, the whole person was really frozen, and her hands and feet were stiff, but fortunately, the high-energy junk food could bring her calories, and eating and drinking also eased her anxious mood a little.

She looked up at her watch.

It was already seven o'clock, but Mo Chunshan was still nowhere to be seen.

WeChat and phone calls have not been returned, has he forgotten the appointment with her?

He Wan'er frowned—wouldn't it? Isn't Mo Chunshan's memory very good?

I wanted to call again to ask, but I hesitated for a long time holding my phone, but I still didn't dial the number.

She finally clicked on WeChat and sent a few words to the avatar called Mo - I'm still here, when will you arrive?

I waited for a long time, but I still didn't wait for a reply.

He Wan'er sighed - could it be a meeting and forget the time, right?

Cai Jia mentioned that he works very hard, and eats lunch and dinner in the conference room several times - she will definitely have a stomachache when she treats work as a meal, and I don't know if he will feel uncomfortable.

Her thoughts were surging, and in a moment of cranky thinking, another ten minutes passed.

The cold air of the night penetrated through He Wan'er's already small coat, and every strand seeped into the thin sweater, and then clinged to the skin, and could no longer be shaken off.

The calories and moments of good mood from fried chicken and milk tea are gone.

Thinking about seeing Mo Chunshan today, she matched her clothes for a long time, and after all, she didn't wear a bloated down jacket because she looked good, so her hands and feet were cold and stiff at this time, and she was about to lose consciousness.

She picked up her phone again, but her hands were so cold that she couldn't type.

Sighing, she had no choice but to press the voice button.

In the car ten meters away, Mo Chunshan took advantage of the cover of the night, not worrying about being seen by her at all.

He kept looking at the back in front of him until the phone's prompt sounded.

It was one of her voice messages.

"Mr. Mo, if it's convenient, please reply to me with a message or phone call. ”

There was no ostentatiousness and pride in her voice, but there was a little cautious temptation, and a trembling voice that she tried to suppress.

Mo Chunshan was stunned, and suddenly annoyed - she stood in the night wind for more than an hour, but she was afraid that she would already be too cold.

Her lips were frozen purple, her face full of embarrassment and confusion, and the fragility that would dissipate with a slight touch of her fingertips.

In the heat of the moment, his hand had already touched the switch on the door, but he was suddenly startled by the temperature of the metal part, and he regained a bit of clarity.

He slowly let go of the doorknob, fingers clenched together.

Can't go.

Her words can make him almost lose his mind, if he gets out of the car, how can he bear it in the face of her grievances and resentment?

As the night deepened, G63, which was parked on the side of the street, remained untouched.

It was already eight o'clock in the evening, the lights were on, and the city gradually brightened, with a different gentleness and affection from the daytime.

But the fog began to fill at night, and the people who returned at night were in a hurry, wanting to return to their warm homes as soon as possible.

And the figure at the corner of the street, standing alone, stubborn and delicate.

Mo Chunshan's gaze moved from the slender back to the book he casually threw on his seat.

He stroked the round and smooth beads between his wrists, once again suppressing the emotion of wanting to get out of the car and run towards her back.

He Wan'er is very beautiful, so beautiful that any normal man, when he thinks of being able to possess her body and mind, his blood will be in his veins.

But what makes him more excited and cherished is the purity in her eyes that she doesn't even know about.

It was that purity, which tempted his instinct, to break through the red line of restraint step by step, so that the proverbs that he had been admonishing for fifteen years collapsed into pieces overnight.

Instead, there are lines of beautiful poems written by later generations in the name of the Living Buddha.

She came with reckless kindness, with tears that would melt all the indifference in his heart, he, what should he do?

He knew that he was calculated, but the root of the calculation was because he was sick.

The name of the disease is love.

Mo Chunshan smiled sarcastically.

I see.

For other people, this illness will probably be the beginning of an encounter and romance, it may be the reluctance to pursue and refuse to welcome the pleasure, or it may be the bitterness and sweetness of love but not being able to or the inhuman person being loved.

But for him, it was a devastating terminal illness.

He looked down again and glanced at his phone. The screen was still stuck in her message box, and from six to eight o'clock, she sent four messages, and he didn't go unanswered after all.

involuntarily clicked on her circle of friends, but found that her dynamics, from being visible in the previous three days, have become all that can be viewed.

Mo Chunshan resisted the instinct to snoop, rubbed the screen, and finally his finger stayed on her name and lit up a button.

Half a minute later, he opened the window of the car again and threw the book of poems that he had turned over an unknown number of times, as well as the string of beads that had just fallen off his wrist and were still warm, into the garbage bin on the side of the road.

In the night, the headlights of the off-road vehicles are lit up, and the engine roars lowly.

The huge body of the car moved, quickly turned the corner in front of it, and disappeared in tens of seconds.