The air was filled with mist, and the thin mist gradually gathered, gathered together, and slowly turned into wisps of light veil, enveloping the entire sky.

The evening breeze blew and blew off the leaves of the branches, floating aimlessly in the air, but they were silently blown into the house, and finally fell to the corner of the table, far away from the small note that had long been ignored under the table. To people, that's just a stretch of hand.

A crescent moon hung on the ink blue, and the evening breeze gently blew away, blowing away the mist, and also blowing the black hair of the person on the bed, but it could not blow away the obsession of the person. The dream was scattered like a veil, but it became clear little by little.

There was silence all around, and the flower quietly poked her head out and looked at the man on the bed, and a flower quietly appeared in his mind.

Gradually, I saw the beauty of the flowers, and the tender stamens were stained with dew, and they were shaking their spirits. In the end, the smoky figure became clear little by little, and a flower bloomed on the white and clean back.

Graceful body, slender neck, hair slid to the back of the neck, white and black reflected each other, and a few strands of black hair fluttered in the wind.

In front of him was a thatched hut, and he seemed to be familiar with it, and his steps moved forward uncontrollably. By the time he reacted, he had already come to the thatched hut. At this moment he was standing in front of a door, which was an ordinary wooden door, and there was nothing peculiar about it, but it was a little shabby.

His hand was unconsciously raised, wanting to go in to find out, and there seemed to be something in it that attracted him, which made him frequently refuse to move. The bottom of his heart is insufficient, it seems that he has tried before to no avail, but he refuses to move a point.

The hand slowly walked forward, but his eyes were closed, little by little, and finally there was a cold feeling in his hand, and he touched the door.

A joy, he couldn't help but widen his eyes, but from squinting to widening, a smile appeared in his pupils, reflecting the hand on the door covered with a layer of golden light, as if it had been opened.

He pushed it away gently, not daring to exert too much force, not wanting to disturb the silence at the moment.

The "creak" door was gently pushed open by him, as if pushing open a certain wall, and the human heart began to open to him, as long as he tried harder, one day, it would eventually occupy her heart, or even the whole heart.

Walking inside, he looked around, and only felt extremely familiar, as if he had been here before. He glanced up at the room, a room, a bed, a curtain, a bronze mirror, and a desk. His gaze was fixed on the desk, and his footsteps moved naturally there.

The evening breeze blows gently, an inkstone is placed on the table, on which are resting a few brushes, the books are randomly blown by the wind, the paper is swept down by the wind, and finally it is aimless to flee around the room, for fear of being discovered.

The wind was getting stronger and stronger, and the paper was floating in the air, and the man stepped forward, trying to bend down to pick it up, but the paper obediently went towards him, and finally some even stuck to his face.

He took off the paper that was clinging to his face without moving, and his expression remained unchanged, only bending down to pick up the other papers. When he had picked everything up, he slowly walked to his desk, pulled over his chair, and sat on it.

He took the book on the table, flipped through a few pages with his hands, and could understand word by word, but when they were put together, he couldn't read them.

However, he knew that these books were medical books, and it was normal for him not to understand them, after all, he had never touched on them. Suddenly, a figure flashed in his mind, and he tried to see it clearly, but the figure was vaguely clear, but it was still smoky.

He remembered something at this time, and looked at the paper he had just picked up, and there were words on the paper like in a book, which seemed to be a prescription. He had to choose not to read it, and he couldn't understand it, and it was useless to read it.

Flipping through the paper below, the font on the paper made his heart unable to calm down for a long time, and his heart had already set off waves. Always pretending that he is not tired, and always trying to laugh recklessly.

He only felt that the person who wrote these things must have infinite pain in his heart, as if he always showed people with a mask, and did not live his own wonderful life.

He resonated with him, isn't that the case for the past fifteen years? He also used to appear in a mask, but it was a human skin/mask, and he even had a stand-in. He laughed at himself, presumably all this is a portrayal of his heart, is he trying to remind himself again and again?

He didn't want to look back for a moment, and put all the papers on the table. Yu Guang glanced at the lower right side, it was a touch of pink, it was a flower, and I always felt that I had seen it countless times.

He flipped through all the papers, only paying attention to the lower right corner, and found that each one was there, which seemed to have become a mark, a mark of a person's existence, but he had no impression of it.

He turned back and headed for the dresser, on which was placed a bronze mirror, all of which indicated that the room seemed to be a woman's boudoir. He actually looked at it carefully, and he didn't feel red-faced, after all, he might have trespassed into someone else's boudoir.

He had already scanned the whole room, and his footsteps went out, so he paid attention to the indoor environment.

In a small space, a table, a few wooden chairs, candlelight beating, sometimes dark and sometimes bright, just like the person in his head. When it was about to be seen clearly, it was even more blurry.

There are some silk threads on the table, which are colorful and colorful. The silk threads are intertwined with each other at the moment, twisted into a ball, and the thread can't be found, just like can't sort out the thoughts, it's really a mess.

He walked to the door, and opened the door of the thatched hut, and the sky outside was already hazy, shrouded in a thin mist, as if a light veil was covering people, just waiting for someone to lift it.

It was already late at night, and he couldn't see the road clearly, so he had nowhere to go, and some of them stayed quietly in the house.

At this moment, he was a little helpless and tired, so he sat down in his chair, but his eyes were glued to the door, hoping that there would be another person in the room the next moment.

Gradually, there was silence all around, only the sound of breathing in the room, his head resting on his bent arms, leaning against the table, and he actually fell asleep.

The tip of his nose was a fragrance, sweet and seductive, which provoked him to wake up slowly.

He looked up and wiped the non-existent saliva from the corner of his mouth. He didn't know where to wake up, so he used to wipe the corners of his mouth when he woke up. Maybe he has lost face too many times, so he wants to change it, and he has developed this habit.

He chuckled in his heart, and saw a young man in front of him, but it was not only her, but also steaming porridge.

She was resting her head on her arm, lying on the table, and she slept very soundly. He got up and looked at her, his gaze delicately outlining her countenance, eyebrows, eyes, nose, and finally a slightly pursed mouth.

He shook his head and suddenly reacted, isn't this person He Yan?

He felt strongly at the moment that he was in a dream, but what was going on here? He didn't remember, but it was déjà vu.

He glanced at her again, her long black hair loosely tied behind her head, held in place by a wooden hairpin, and the occasional strand of ink hair uninhibited.

He withdrew his eyes, only to be drawn to a snow-white patch of snow, it was her hand. Her hands looked white and delicate, very slender, and her fingertips were rounded, and they did not look like the hands of a man, but rather those of a girl's family.

He couldn't help but spit on himself, he actually thought that He Yan was a woman, and he actually thought of such a situation? He looked at her again, a little more playful in his heart, and poked her arm, "Wake up!" Time to eat! ”

Everything was so shocking, he didn't expect that she actually raised her head and glanced at him, a confused look, but there was only confusion in her eyes.

As soon as his fun-loving interest came up, he didn't care about it. Seeing that she didn't want to wake up, his fingers tentatively poked at her face, with a bit of tenderness in his movements, which was completely different from his previous appearance.

There seemed to be a softness on his fingers, and the tips of his ears couldn't help but turn red. The boy seemed dissatisfied with his actions, and his head moved slightly, and his hand could not touch her face, but came to her lips by magic.

He froze suddenly, not daring to move his fingers a little, but her mouth pursed, as if to express dissatisfaction. So, her lips were printed on his fingers accurately.

His fingers only felt a little hot at the moment, and gradually, they became extremely hot, and then his whole body felt like he was in a heat wave, so hot that he was almost out of breath.

He withdrew his hand, but the heat did not go away, and she finally came to her senses, and stared at him for a moment, as if she knew that he was disturbing her, and her eyes were a little terrible and vicious.

After a while, she stopped looking at him, sat down in her seat, and served a bowl of porridge. She took the spoon and drank it along the edge of the bowl, one sip after another, and drank it so elegantly.

He looked at her and felt that she didn't look like a man, after all, the boys from poor families were in charge early, and the time was squeezed out, where would they eat so leisurely.

She noticed a gaze fixed on her, glanced at it slowly, and then ignored it, just blindly eating the porridge in front of her.

When he saw that she was eating sweetly, he couldn't help swallowing his saliva, and he also learned from her to eat.

The spoon gently stirred the porridge in the bowl, and he scooped another spoonful into his mouth, which was soft and glutinous and sweet, and left a fragrance on his lips and teeth.

……

The person on the bed is asleep lying on his side, and he is still drooling while sleeping, which is very different from his previous image.

The saliva seemed to flow down, and finally stained the side of his face, and he felt extremely uncomfortable for a while, and suddenly woke up from his dream.

He opened his eyes and looked at everything in front of him, only then did he feel the dampness and heat on his face, and he blushed with embarrassment, so he gradually wiped it away. His mouth was a little dry, so he had to get out of bed and go to the tea by the desk.

When he got to his desk, he noticed a leaf on the ground and wanted to pick it up, but he caught a glimpse of the small note in the corner, and then he remembered the original note.

He reached out and picked up the small paper, glanced at it, the whole person was stunned in place, the scattered memories in his mind began to be pieced together, and he muttered: It turns out that I have met you a long time ago!