The bag has a silhouette, and when the writer picked it up, he couldn't help but wonder, why Mo Yan was so careless and actually flattened it.

Grabbing the kun bag in his hand and half-getting up, a trace of doubt suddenly flashed in Wenhao's mind - the atmosphere in this room is not right! Full of inexplicable tension - the writer stood up straight and looked around vigilantly.

Open kitchen countertops, open wardrobes, folded curtains, empty writing desks, non-existent TV cabinets, semi-open bathroom doors...... Looking around, there is nothing unusual.

"Squeak." The sound of fingernails picking at wood.

The writer turned around and saw Mo Yan standing against the door frame, Baba looking at him.

Oh, Mo Yan must have waited impatiently to pick at the door frame with his fingernails like this.

Checking the Kun bag and propping it back to its original shape with his hand, the writer smiled at Mo Yan at the door: "Wait, right?" Walk! ”

Mo Yan hurriedly walked to the elevator room first.

Even she didn't understand whether this escaping posture was considered a cover for Wang Chengyou.

Again, why didn't she just find out that Wang Chengyou broke into her room without permission?

It is undeniable that her silence is full of the smell of cover-up.

After pressing the down button, Mo Yan covered his face with both hands, isolating the complicated world from his eyes.

At this moment, her heart was flustered, and her brain was short-circuited at any time.

The "ding" sound of the elevator reaching this floor was like a rootless cloud, fluttering through her ears, and she herself was motionless.

"Mo Yan?" The writer in the elevator room called Mo Yan in surprise.

Mo Yan woke up like a dream and stepped into the elevator. Before stepping in, don't look to the left. The corridor where the elevator is located is in a T-shape with the corridor of the hotel room, and Mo Yan can only see a section of the room corridor less than three meters at a glance.

Fortunately, there was no one there to follow and chase after them.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"Headache." Mo Yan replied.

A real headache.

"Do you want to see a doctor first?"

Mo Yan unabashedly dodged the palm of the hand, and smiled indifferently: "It doesn't matter, I know it in my heart, let's report as promised." ”

Wenhao put down his hand and smiled. He should be too many people in the same elevator, and Mo Yan is ashamed to show intimacy in front of people.

The driver was in the car, waiting in front of the hotel, and Mo Yan, accompanied by Wenhao, left the hotel and entered the car. As soon as the doors close, the car slides smoothly out and merges into the traffic.

In a sunny window on the 29th floor, the curtains shook slightly, and they became tight again.

－－

Graduate Student Enrollment Day is the same day as the first day of undergraduate freshness. Due to the large flow of people, foreign vehicles were not allowed to enter the campus, and the driver put down Wenhao and Mo Yan at the school gate and drove away.

Walking into the campus, the writer was even more excited than Mo Yan.

There were a few reckless boys, their eyes lit up the moment they saw Mo Yan, and after talking, they found out that she was not an undergraduate freshman, and they shouted "senior sister" with a sneering face and retreated. I couldn't stop laughing when I saw the writer.

Under the guidance of the guidance board, Mo Yan and Wenhao spent half a day to complete all the processes of the report and get a dormitory key.

"Are you going to see the dorm?" Wenhao asked Mo Yan.

Mo Yan shook his head: "I don't plan to live on campus, I don't want to go to see it." ”

The writer smiled and spread his hands, saying that everything is subject to Mo Yan's opinion.

Also, they didn't even bring luggage. The so-called dormitory is nothing more than getting to know roommates. Since Mo Yan has made up her mind to apply for off-campus housing, it really doesn't matter if she knows her roommate or not.

Seeing that it was lunch time, Wenhao encouraged Mo Yan to go to the student cafeteria.

Mo Yan nodded in agreement.

Wenhao excitedly participated in the queue, took the dinner plate, looked at the dishes in the window, he was pointing, and when he turned around, he thought that Mo Yan, who had been following him closely, was still nowhere to be seen at this moment?

Wenhao had to withdraw from the queue to pick up the meal, searched around, and found that Mo Yan was actually lined up alone outside the line, standing still for a long time.

"You call it queuing, too?" The writer almost laughed.

Mo Yan was a little ashamed: "I'm not used to it, it's too crowded." ”

Wenhao took the dinner plate from Mo Yan's hand, put his hand on her shoulder, and pushed her: "Find an empty seat and sit down, I'll help you eat." ”

Mo Yan followed Wenhao's instructions and looked for an empty seat...... It's full of people, and there's someone at every table.

Mo Yan walked aimlessly in the restaurant like a headless fly, until the writer sat down with two alloy plates, and Mo Yan was still looking everywhere. Wen Hao shook his head and smiled bitterly, and reached out to grab Mo Yan when he walked past him.

"Miss! Your bar shouldn't be too high, just two adjacent slots. ”

Only then did Mo Yan realize that he had been thinking about finding an empty table before...... He smiled, pulled out the writer and held his wrist, and Mo Yan sat down opposite the writer.

Looking down on the dinner plate, steamed pumpkin, cold skin mixed with sesame sauce, cucumber with garlic and vinegar, in addition, scrambled eggs with tomato, tomato eggplant, tomato zucchini, tomato sugar...... Mo Yan stared at the plate for a long time before he saw the joke: "This is a tomato system?" ”

"How much fun." The writer laughed.

Mo Yan didn't see what was fun.

The restaurant is too noisy, and for Mo Yan, there is no need to worry about finding something to say.

Wenhao found that the girl sitting diagonally opposite him couldn't help but look at him with her eyes, and she was quite proud in her heart, and she paid more and more attention to the posture of eating.

For Wenhao, queuing up to eat, sitting on plastic dining chairs, and eating big pot dishes are just a long-term aftertaste of youth, even if they have experienced it, they don't plan to eat it seriously.

There was a lot of buzzing in the restaurant, he didn't like to talk to Mo Yan with his voice in his voice, and seeing that Mo Yan was just pulling the dishes with chopsticks, and he was not eating actively, he asked Mo Yan if he wanted to leave.

"Huh?" Mo Yan suddenly woke up.

"I said, have you eaten well?" The writer roared.

"Oh." Mo Yan immediately stood up.

Wenhao got up, picked up the plate, and walked to the rest of the meal.

The bucket of swill was already half full, and it looked like there was a good chance that juice would splash out if it was dumped. The writer has already faintly regretted proposing to eat in the restaurant.

He stretched out his hand and shouted, "Bring it, I'll pour it for you." ”

A dinner plate fell into his hands.

When the writer was about to dump it, he found that it was abnormal, this dinner plate, eaten so cleanly, it was not Mo Yan's at all.

Hurriedly turned around and saw a tall and thin beautiful woman, looking at him with a smile.

Wenhao's gaze passed over her, and then looked back, and saw Mo Yan's figure walking towards the door of the restaurant in the midst of the heavy shadows.

Hurriedly put the leftover dinner plate into the plate rack, and the writer trotted after Mo Yan. almost knocked over the lunch of passers-by several times, and finally caught up with Mo Yan outside the restaurant.

The writer's brows suddenly locked deeply.

"Mo Yan!" The writer shouted.

"Huh?" Mo Yan turned his head.

It is a delicate face that does not smile and shows its own delicateness, and it is common to always find small emotions that are secretly expressed on the face, which makes people love it. Today, except for emptiness, it is at a loss. It's like losing your soul.

The writer looked straight into Mo Yan's eyes. I want to see more things from Mo Yan's eyes.

"What?" Mo Yan took a step back under the forced gaze of the writer.

Wenhao didn't speak, just grabbed the plate she was holding.

Mo Yan found out that she had brought out the dinner plate in the restaurant, and the food was still there.

Mo Yan's face burned violently.

"I ......" Mo Yan felt that he needed to open his mouth to explain a thing or two, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't know what to say.