Seeing that he was flipping through his mobile phone, Mother Liu first put the dinner plate on the wooden table in front of her, and then opened her mouth to Ye Xingchen, who still hadn't shifted his gaze from the phone, "Young Master, you haven't eaten yet, have you?" Madame just came here and brought you her hand-cooked wontons, and she didn't sit down long when you weren't here. I've just warmed up the ravioli, so remember to eat them while they're hot. ”

Hearing this, Ye Xingchen's eyes also glanced at the wontons placed on the side of the table, but it was only two seconds before he looked away, as if he hadn't heard anything from the nanny at all, and was already looking at his mobile phone.

The nanny didn't stay any longer, and stood where she was for a while, making sure that the other party had nothing to command, and then said, "Young master, then I'll step back first" and left the study.

In the quiet study, accompanied by the sound of "da-da-da" fingertips tapping on the screen one after another, as well as the slight sound of wind outside the window, only the quiet and almost inaudible breathing of the teenager remained.

The air at night is obviously so clean and fresh, but there is always a smell of wontons drilling into his nose from time to time, he is a little irritable, his brows are frowned uncontrollably, and his eyes unconsciously glance at the wontons that look good on the side, but his fingers never mean to take the soup spoon.

He clicked on the screen a few more times, as if he finally couldn't bear it anymore, and slowly approached the bowl of wontons, his clear eyes stared at the milky white wonton soup in the bowl, and the wet smoke at the top of the bowl was filling the air, and he suddenly remembered the past......

The same wonton, the same soup, the same taste that you can't tell at all, but it's not the feeling it used to be, it's not the same person's hand, and no matter how similar it is, it can't be fake.

Just thinking about it, he got up and walked to the window, which was now ajar, and from time to time the evening breeze blew softly through his forehead, and even the curtains danced with it.

The scenery outside the window was so good, the night, the starry sky, the crescent moon, the light and shadow, everything was so good, so good, but his originally dark eyes suddenly flashed a trace of sadness, and he looked out the window in the dark night, as if he was caught in some kind of painful memory.

He didn't know how long he looked at the distance in the dark night, as if the wind was too cold, he was a little cold, and it seemed like it was already so dark, he was tired, and he didn't want to spend time like this anymore.

He finally returned to his desk, turned off his phone screen, turned around and left the study.

Seeing that the light in the study was out, Liu's mother went upstairs, ready to clean up the leftovers he left, but as soon as she pushed open the door and approached the table, she found that everything on it had not changed at all from when she had just served it.

She looked stunned and a little surprised.

The young master is clearly ...... Didn't touch it.

Thinking of this, Liu's mother's expression was a little incredulous, but after a while, she immediately turned back to normal.

As if she had expected it, she picked up the wonton little by little.

Also, the servants in the old mansion all said that the young master has always only eaten what the chef at home makes, and the rest of the people have never touched it, and there is another point that the young master is most taboo, that is, the lady does it, and don't let him see it in the end.

I remember one time, a servant was instructed by Mrs. to send the soup made by Mrs. to the study, saying that it was made in the kitchen, and the young master drank a few sips without thinking too much, but when he tasted it, the taste was not right, and he guessed what was going on on the spot, and finally stopped the work of the little nanny directly, and since then no one has dared to touch the food cooked by Mrs.

In fact, she knew that the reason why the young master didn't blame her this time was entirely because she had been here for so many years.

And there was a festival between the lady and the young master, she knew about it, but no one knew the specific situation.

She thought, in the end, it was because Madame was the backroom, no matter how hard she was to the young master, but the blood was there, it was no wonder that the young master would rather be hungry than touch what Madame did.

Thinking so, the nanny sighed silently, took the cold ravioli, silently turned off the light in the study, and left.

…

Tonight's Ye Xingchen didn't sleep as well as that time, and he had insomnia.

He lay on the huge bed, his dark eyes staring at the ceiling, silently in a daze.

The window was ajar, and a cool breeze blew from time to time, making him shiver.

It's a little cold, he thought.

Stunned and stunned, his mind flashed the face of a girl for no reason, she was seriously holding a drawing pencil, sweeping around on the drawing paper, that serious look like the girl who had lived in his heart for a long time.

The same action, one is drawing, the other is writing math problems, it is clearly so different, that different, but he can always associate everything with her.

Even the same movement, the same posture, the same expression, or the same sentence can remind him of her.

He looked at the ceiling, and a hint of darkness flashed on his face, which was still a little cold.

I don't know if she will notice that the painting she pondered for a lesson was taken by him in less than ten minutes to depict what she looked like in the original painting as much as possible.

He didn't learn to draw on purpose, he can only say that he was idle and bored when he was a child, and he used to draw randomly, and he can use his skills to trace the half-finished picture of that guy, and the similarity should not be a problem.

Thinking like this, his heart was inexplicably relieved, he suddenly didn't want to tell her what was going on with that painting, even if he knew that there was always a dark side to the world, but he didn't know what, he just didn't want her to know.

This night, Ye Xingchen thought about it a lot, so much that he never thought about it before, and in the end, he was bored and counted the sheep.

"One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep ......"

"Eleven sheep, twelve sheep, thirteen sheep......"

Finally, when he counted the sixtieth sheep, he couldn't hold it anymore and fell asleep.

…

The next day, Ye Xingchen went to the bathroom, he washed up briefly, and then slowly took a towel and began to wipe his face, halfway through the wipe, he winked at the mirror, and always felt that something was weird.

Then, he put down the towel and looked in the mirror again, and the whole person was stunned.

I saw that in the mirror, the face with unusually fair skin was still perfect, but if you looked closely, you would find that the thin eyelids under the long eyelashes were dark.

……。

.