After yawning, Wenhao said tiredly: "I have to hurry tomorrow morning, I will leave home at 6 o'clock, and if it goes well, I will be able to arrive at the T2 terminal of Pudong International Airport at about 9:40." ”

Wang Chengyou could have heard it, but the next day, he still arrived at the airport where Wenhao departed before 9:40.

In the T2 terminal with bright windows, Wang Chengyou and Wenhao met face to face again.

Wang Chengyou came empty-handed, and the writer was also relaxed. The person who dropped him off took care of the change of boarding pass and baggage check-in.

Both of them were relaxed, well-dressed, with faint smiles on their faces, as if they had met by chance from friends for many years.

Needless to say, the writer's ease and pride, he firmly held the initiative in the bureau he did, and he was in the country, relying on remote command, and successfully cut off the connection between Wang Chengyou and Mo Yan. He only wondered, why did Wang Chengyou recover so quickly?!

When Wang Chengyou appeared in front of him neatly and full of energy, he couldn't help but suspect that he was dazzled.

"You seem to be in a good mood." The writer was the first to speak. He looked at Wang Chengyou's gaze a little unscrupulously.

"That's because I understand the reasons for Mo Yan's efforts and choices."

The writer looked away, looked at the ceiling decorated with lights at the airport, and then looked back at Wang Chengyou: "I thought you would fly with me to Tokyo today." I don't see your luggage, though. ”

"I don't have to go. Just wait for Mo Yan to come back with peace of mind. ”

The writer is so determined! Had to look away again.

This kind of dialogue mode is not what he wants to experience. He had already pre-stored in his mind a dialogue pattern in which he was high above and Wang Chengyou waged his tail and begged for mercy.

The writer doesn't want to talk to the calm and relaxed Wang Chengyou! When he said goodbye politely, he suddenly heard Wang Chengyou ask: "Why can't Mo Yan be contacted after he arrives in Japan?" ”

The writer shrugged: "Because it's useless to get in touch." ”

Wang Chengyou didn't seem surprised by the writer's nonsensical answer, and continued to say calmly: "Do you know why I came here for a run?" ”

"Why?"

"Just to hand you a word: Mo Yan has to have a good one, I will not be finished with you in my life." A very light, very calm tone.

The smile on the corner of Wenhao's mouth deepened: "Very good." Finished? You're good to go. ”

Wang Chengyou looked at the strange smile on the corner of the other party's mouth, and pretended to smile calmly.

After saying what should be said, the two passed by.

No one looked back.

When the writer flew to Haneda Airport and saw Mo Yan, and then mentioned this chance encounter at the airport, the content inexplicably became "I saw Wang Chengyou at the airport, and Wang Chengyou seemed to be waiting for a plane to fly to the United States."

After some mental struggle, Mo Yan realized that even if Wang Chengyou recruited her to return to China at this moment, she would not be able to leave everything willfully and fly back alone. It's just that, there are always some detours to walk in life, and the torment caused by separating the two places like this should be a detour in the love between her and Chengyou.

There is such a saying: The gift given by fate has already been secretly marked for price. Between "sweet before bitter" and "bitter before sweet", she would rather choose the latter.

Forced to be calm, Mo Yan took good things and went to the place given by Master Kawabata to gather.

After arriving at the place, Mo Yan got out of the car, said goodbye to Wenhao indifferently, and turned around and left without hesitation.

Wenhao stood outside the car, lit a cigarette, and did not return to the car until Mo Yan's back was completely invisible.

He flew to Japan this time, and there was no meeting at all, let alone a postponement of the meeting. He only spent four or five overtime hours until ten o'clock at night, in exchange for a day or two of leisure.

I slept at twelve o'clock the night on the first day, set off early the next morning, and arrived in Tokyo at lunchtime, where I spent half a day with Mo Yan. The next morning's meeting, if postponed to the afternoon, was destined to be wandering the streets of Tokyo.

In the evening, he would definitely pick up Mo Yan in front of the last person he visited on time, and would not give anyone a chance to take Mo Yan to the wine house.

At most one more dinner, he would have to fly from one airport to another non-stop.

When I get home in the evening, I'm afraid it will be twelve o'clock at night. The next day, as the new president, he appeared in the company at half past eight, which was the subconscious expectation of all headquarters employees. He had no reason to let everyone's hopes be disappointed.

Why so hard?

Even he himself couldn't give an answer.

When I first met Mo Yan in Zimeixuan, he was a son who was deprived of his inheritance, the head of a small-scale interior designer, and a playboy who was rich and idle without pressure. At a glance, he loved her immature expression, full of vitality, sultry long hair, and thin light makeup, but he didn't know that the light makeup covered up the age of minors.

If she had known that she was underage by then, or if he had become an heir by then, they wouldn't have crossed paths, right?

Trace by wisp, inch by inch, unconsciously, the entanglement has been two years, the love is so deep, and then looking back, it can only be deep unwillingness.

In order to get Mo Yan, he did to Wang Chengyou, so that he would not have a psychological burden.

Compared with seeing his father's scenes of white knives entering red knives in business wars and talking and laughing for the development of the enterprise, he just deceived the young man with words, which was really polite.

He's not young, and he's ridiculous enough. The career is already in hand, and I just want to set up a simple home with the people I love. He will take good care of his little family, his wife and their children.

If there is still a peach blossom source in this world, it is Mo Yan.

Maybe there are still many Mo Yan in the world, but he doesn't want to spend time getting to know him anymore.

Thinking of this, the writer's eyes were a little misty.

In the mist, Mo Yan's slender figure appeared in the field of vision. Wenhao covered his face with both hands, pressed his eyes, and greeted him with a smile.

"How's it going today?"

"It's shocking."

"Tell me about it?"

"The living space of Tokyoites is so small!"

"Huh?"

The writer naturally understands the ingenuity of the design under the small area, and he is just pretending to be stupid to adjust the atmosphere. Sure enough, Mo Yan was amused by his unexpected "ah".

"Mo Yan, I'm on the plane at half past seven in the evening."

Mo Yan looked up at Wenhao, his expression was as calm as water: "I wish you a smooth journey." ”

"Isn't it, you're going to drive me away? You should have eaten before you hit the road. ”

After the writer's slightly exaggerated tone landed, the silence between the two people on the busy streets of Tokyo became a little strange. There seems to be another unlucky explanation for the two people who thought of "eating enough before going on the road" almost at the same time, but at the same time, the two of them felt that it was better to ignore it.

"Then hurry up, don't delay your trip."

"During the meeting this afternoon, Party A recommended a small restaurant to me, saying that the snowflake Wagyu beef is very authentic. The location is just in the direction of going to the airport, can you enjoy the face together? ”