College means busy academics and abundant recreational activities.

According to Aaron and her words, the last carnival of her generation of young people has begun.

It's just that there is no me, no Norris, no butler, and no editor-in-chief, Mr. Allen.

At this age, there are a lot of things to think about, but there are too many things to do, and you have to take your time. After synthesizing Lynn's various indicators and parameters, I thoughtfully recommended a university with the right distance and a suitable score line, and the tuition fee was never a problem, she majored in international relations and minored in fine arts and psychology.

It's a good fit for her, she's supposed to learn this, and she's going to learn it well, good enough to make anyone proud.

It's not that I'm exaggerating, or now I'm closing my eyes and picking up a passer-by on the road, and they will spontaneously encourage their cheeks, praising their children for their mercilessness, regardless of whether it's potatoes or people, it's always the best of their own production.

After that, Mr. Allen, whom I and I knew, was also promoted, and with the rise of his career, he had a lot more money, and on his next visit he gave Lynn a brooch, and a whole dozen fresh bionic jasmine, the brooches were boxed, and the flowers were carefully wrapped together in a page of morning newspaper that was torn out casually, and there were a few drops of water dripping from the petals, until a month later, the flowers were still as fresh as when they were brought home, and even the position of the dew drops had not changed.

That brooch doesn't go well with clothes, I've seen her wear it a few times, the first time I wore it was the opening ceremony, I glanced at it and knew that the blue diamond on the brooch was not the best, and it was produced in an assembly line factory in the iron area, but it was a big deal.

I swallowed back some of the truths appropriately.

It's just a lie, it's not a lie.

For I saw the person who received it, her face was no more, no less, and the corners of her mouth curved between reserve and pleasure.

She is happy.

That's fine.

If only that would make her happy.

In contrast, the gift I had for her, a pure gold women's watch, was just as practical as it was, but when it came to artificial romance, it was much less than that.

I would have liked to send flowers, but I lacked the corresponding limbs and organs, so apart from flipping out the page to place an order for the flower shop, and at most having the replicant clerk there come to the door with a programmed smiley face to congratulate me, it was no more flattering than the bouquet that people rolled up casually.

I couldn't help but be frustrated, but I still reassured myself that it didn't matter, that gold wouldn't fade, that bouquet of jasmine would wilt after three months when the battery ran out, and that gold watches wouldn't, let alone time.

But I'm still proud, proud of my little master.

Even if I have less and less time with Lynn, even if our relationship pattern has been formed, even if I feel deeply lost because of this.

After a few years of change, I, as an intelligent person, have witnessed a period of legendary growth, the girl who was originally only up to my waist, that is, the middle of the terminal, has unconsciously drawn into a long strip, she is so beautiful and slender that she can even be described in the words of a princess in the nightingale story: she has beautiful long brown hair, she has a beautiful nose and moderately plump lips, and she can make the fierce beast bow down with a smile, and make the proud prince bow his head and ask for a kiss close to the face.

The girl had made a wish many years ago, and the wishes were big and small, but it was indeed as she had hoped, and she would grow up safely, and with the help of the kind housekeeper, she would get rid of many bad problems, and become an indispensable scenery in the schoolyard, charming and full of youth.

That's the legend.

Lynn comes back five times a week, that is, every day, the school is not far away, she has a lot of daytime and night activities, accompanying the vice president of the astronomy club (thank goodness, thanks to the president is male, the vice president is female, otherwise it would be useless for me to die in a hurry at home) to see her own constellation at night, go to the library during the day, and return to her house at noon at most for a simple lunch, and after I wake her up from her nap, she will go out for the afternoon sketching class.

The advantage of private is the quality of the school's canteen and the attitude of the teachers, they treat the students as rich people, give the rich people timely rest and relaxation, never give pressure, and do not see them as slaves under the whip, which is the reason why this school has high gold content and excellent students.

Everyone's parents and schools are doing the same business.

People who do business, they are shrewd.

As the door closed, the lights in the doorway and living room came on for fifteen seconds, and then they all went dark.

Lynn is back.

I don't know how long she'll be at home today.

I silently counted in my mind (although intelligence has no heart, but you just count the time for my core movement) From the time she entered the door to the time she lay down, we said less than ten words in total.

The conversation is as follows:

"How was your day, how did you feel? Did the professor have any comments on your topic? ”

"It's okay, I checked a lot of information, and the results are barely gratifying," Lynn heroically shook off the leather high-end satchel and replied: "I have a lot of spare time left this week, unlike last week, in order to catch up with Professor Kang's things, I stayed up for two nights without sleeping, I think this old man is bald, and he also wants to let his students .........be bald together."

"But you said that being a student of his class learns a lot of new things."

"Yes, otherwise who would want to go a full eighteen hours without sleeping, just to catch up with his broken papers."

"What do you want for dinner?" Is it okay to have orange juice just squeezed this morning in the fridge, plus the curry juice bibimbap left over from the day before yesterday? ”

"Well, so be it."

Lynn slumped on the sofa, her delicate skin with a hint of tiredness: "So I decided, I won't go anywhere for the past two days, I'll just fall asleep at home, and if something happens, you just say I'm not there, the sun hits the ceiling, and you have to say I'm not there." ”

"Okay" I somehow couldn't help but be happy when I knew that she was going home and that there were traces of her at home: "Then you rest for a while, and I'll call you up in half an hour." ”

"Okay."

She closed her eyes, and I closed my mouth quietly, and watched her quietly on the couch again, admiring her for a while, watching her curl up in a corner of the couch in a self-protective pose.

Without a nightingale fairy tale, she would have been able to sleep very sweetly.

The only regret at this time is that I had to warm the temperature in the room for her, instead of putting on the wool shawl she bought last week.

I'm almost, just almost, almost omnipotent.

But I'm just a pair of hands off.

I slowly moved from the mirror at the door to the living room, and in order not to disturb her sleep, I carefully dimmed and dimmed the light, and the dim light cast a three-dimensional shadow on her face, nose for nose, mouth for mouth, and how her eyelashes could be so long, which was much more natural than the girl models in the magazines I had seen in private.

I'm like a left-behind parent, the main and secondary are more and more distinct, I'm not very old, the kernel can last for more than a hundred years, but I dedicate all my focus to my most beloved child, but unfortunately sometimes I have the same headache as Aaron, the child has her own ideas when she is older, she needs to look at the outside world, you let her return to the family, she doesn't want to, but she just doesn't have time.

She doesn't remember, but I do, it's been a long time since we've been with her friends discussing a movie, discussing a new book in the library, teasing a bubbling Indian sage, teasing a meaningless sentence.

The advantage of a private university is that it is open-minded, but this does not mean that you can escape the full schedule of courses and overwhelming papers, looking at the way she closes her eyes, you know that she must have no strength, and if she is asked to get up and start making red wine steak, Lynn will definitely rub her eyes and complain to me with a bitter face, "I said my dear Norris, if you are willing to complete this week's homework for me, I will be tired, and I will crawl to the kitchen now........."

I imagined her tone, her familiar and childish playfulness, a kind of paternalistic complacency and smugness.

She will definitely not show her childish side in front of her classmates, let alone in front of Professor Kang, whose hair is about to fall out, her acting skills are mature and free, but in the face of me, she is different from the outside, she regards me as her first friend, the first one on the top, no matter how hard the latecomers try, they can't surpass.

I cherish the days we used to get along, saying that it was once, but in fact it was not so far apart, and the memories of those years shimmered with a unique light, enriching every minute and every second of my time in this house.

I never thought I was superfluous, and neither did she.

But sometimes....... It's just that sometimes, I'm really bored.

Boredom, when I was sorting out Lynn's mailbox every month, I was not surprised to see a lot of pompous handwriting, and I was anxious to dissect the young people's love emails, so I picked out all the golden sentences in them, thinking that I would make them into a booklet, and then wait until she was twenty-five years old to give them as gifts, when she must have been more mature, and she would flip through the booklet one by one with her fingernails of unknown color, and casually comment on the legends she had created in her youth.

I marvel at the boundlessness of human creativity, but most people spend this little and big cleverness where they shouldn't, and if you can write a paper with a third of your love letters, then everyone is Wilde, and everyone can be president.

Unlike her computer, I only have a sleep system at best, and there is no shutdown button.

I can't sleep, but I can calm down and think on my own, relying on those memories to resist loneliness and continue to survive.

Like some memories and love letters can be deleted, others can't.

I always remember the first meeting with her.

There are not many territories or areas under my jurisdiction, but this beautiful big house, in which lived a young girl, who hummed a fairy tale and told me that she had spent a lot of money to bring me home, and that I would guarantee her life.

That girl, she finally grew up.