couldn't help but help Mo Yan put it on, and at the same time blamed himself: "I actually took you on this land for so long, and I didn't pay attention to making you cold." It's so undeserved. ”

Mo Yan smiled: "It doesn't matter. The new plot is like a big blank piece of paper, which is always inexplicably exciting. I can understand your feelings. ”

The writer's hand stopped at Mo Yan's neckline.

Up, is his beloved face.

Downward, it is the softness of his countless reveries.

Etiquette and reason made him stiffly retract his hand.

"Let's go, let's go eat."

"Good. Look for a restaurant with hot soup. ”

"It's too simple."

"You want a hot soup that doesn't burn right away."

"I want to think of one family when you ask for this, but I'm afraid you won't go."

"Where?"

"My mother's house. Once the soup is ready, place it in the pot at a temperature of 39.2 degrees. I don't know what this degree is about. Go? ”

"What is there to dare not go!"

Just as Mo Yan stepped into Wenhao's car and Wenhao took her to see Mrs. Wen, Wang Chengyou, who was studying books seriously in the library, received a message from Xu Qinglai.

"I met an old acquaintance. Guess who? ”

Wang Chengyou ignored it.

After waiting for a while, Xu Qinglai sent a second message: "It's Mo Yan." I thought you would care. ”

Wang Chengyou smiled at the name of "Mo Yan", but still did not reply.

"You don't believe it? I'll send you the picture! ”

Wang Chengyou bit the pen, freed his hand to flip through the information, and clicked on the photo.

The photograph is somewhat backlit, and the light passes through the space where the writer and Mo Yan are facing each other, making their faces overexposed and unable to see their eyes clearly. Aside from his expressions, the movements between them alone were enough to sting Wang Chengyou.

The writer is helping Mo Yan tie a scarf.

Hands placed in places that make people outside the screen feel ambiguous. What frightened Wang Chengyou the most was that those big hands could fall at any time.

Wang Chengyou stared at this photo, his mind was a little distracted.

He thought more than he saw. For example, if this photo was really taken by Xu Qinglai, it should not be obtained by chance, but by tracking. Why did Xu Qinglai secretly follow? Is it Mo Yan or Wenhao who is stalking?

Similarly, assuming that this photo was taken by Xu Qinglai, with Xu Qinglai's technique, it would not have been captured so well, and it must have been frozen for a while between Mo Yanhe's writers...... With such a distance, Mo Yan has no objection?

The last question is the root cause of Wang Chengyou's injury.

He can't control the writer, but Mo Yan should have him in his heart.

Wang Chengyou stared at the photo and continued to think.

Xu Qinglai sent him such a photo, what was his intention?

If it were someone else, he would have rushed to his brain, slapped the table angrily, and then made a phone call to Mo Yan or Wenhao, asking them if they had a conscience, right? If he really did this, wasn't he being used as a gun by Xu Qinglai?

I have been with Mo Yan for so long, and I have never heard her mention Xu Qinglai. It can be seen that Xu Qinglai is here for the writer. As for how Xu Qinglai and Wenhao got into a relationship, you can think of it by thinking about it with your toes: they are in the same city, belong to the same circle, and they are both unmarried men and women...... The two of them hooked up on the line, indicating that the writer was on a blind date!

After coming to such a conclusion, Wang Chengyou's impulsive enthusiasm slowly calmed down.

Well, it must be Xu Qinglai who has fallen in love with the diamond king who has a successful career, but Luohua is ruthless. Xu Qinglai, who was bored, started stalking. accidentally photographed Mo Yan, and after only three or four years of no contact, he contacted him again without any foreshadowing.

Wang Chengyou zoomed in on the photo, trying to see Mo Yan's expression in the backlight and overexposure.

She Xu Qinglai found the wrong person, he is not so stupid!

"Now, do you believe me?" Xu Qinglai's new information appeared on the screen.

Wang Chengyou couldn't help but say and typed: "Don't pull me Mo Yan in." After losing, I deleted another word by word.

Alas, why did Mo Yan agree with Wenhao to help her tie a scarf so ambiguously?! After all, he looked at the photo and was very sad.

Then I thought about it again: If someone wants to do something, whether it is aimed at Mo Yan or not, he should not be the one who fanned the flames. He wants to be a conscious and self-disciplined lover, and he will never drag Mo Yan back. All the details related to Mo Yan, he just wanted to know from Mo Yan. Other people's "pictures and truths" are not enough to rely on!

Wang Chengyou closed his eyes and read silently: "P's, fake." Fake, P's. ”

After reading it, decisively delete the photos and messages.

"You don't have anything to tell me?" Xu Qinglai's new news entered.

Wang Chengyou put the phone upside down on the desktop, ignored it, and refocused on reading the book.

－－

Mo Yan was led by the writer and went to Mrs. Wen's house after a long absence.

Mrs. Wen is still so gentle and wealthy, she took Mo Yan's hand with a smile, and praised it carefully from top to bottom, so much so that Mo Yan, who thought she had experienced a hundred battles, couldn't help but blush.

"Auntie, you are in love."

Wenhao smiled happily on the side: "Mom, we came back to drink hot soup, hurry up and start eating, Xiao Yan has been freezing on the construction site for several hours." ”

Mrs. Wen was disgusted: "Why didn't you say it earlier!" ”

Not long after, the three of them sat down at the dining table. The 39.2-degree soup tastes really good. Mo Yan drank two bowls in one go, his body warmed up from the inside out, and he talked more.

Mrs. Wen kept talking with Mo Yan, asking Mo Yan's mother Mo Jielian, asking Mo Yan's stepfather Yan Song, asking Mo Yan's sick aunt, asking Mo Yan's company, and asking Mo Yan's academic ...... Mo Yan took it seriously and replied.

The writer walked east and west, handed over the fruit, and refilled the water cup.

The north wind is howling outside, making it seem quieter and warmer inside.

No matter where you stand, when you turn around, you can see Mo Yan's smiling face under the yellowish halo.

The writer really loves this kind of atmosphere.

If only time could freeze in this moment...... Unfortunately, there is no "if".

At 9 o'clock in the evening, the cuckoo pops out of a small window to tell the time.

Mo Yan raised his head: "Ah, it's so late." I'm bothering Aunt Wen. It's time for me to go. ”

"Xiao Yan, is it okay to stay here tonight? Just live in the same room where you and your mother lived back then, okay? Mrs. Wen asked sincerely, and Mo Yan couldn't refuse.

Although he was embarrassed to refuse, there was no compromise on his face.

Mo Yan looked at the writer in embarrassment. The writer clearly saw Mo Yan's intention to ask him to help, but he didn't want to open his mouth. If you really want to speak, you also want to help your mother keep Mo Yan.

"Xiao Yan, after your mother accompanied your aunt to the United States, my life became more and more lonely. The writer is busy with his career, and I don't even have a friend to talk to. Every morning, when I get up, I sit there," Mrs. Wen pointed to the window. After a brief pause, Mrs. Wen spoke again.

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