Four years later, Rong was seven or seventeen years old.

Midsummer.

The girl with Erlang's legs crossed on the sofa listened to the song with headphones plugged in, her arms were behind her head, her eyes were squinted and she was intoxicated by the music, shaking her head and shaking her head, listening to it.

"Evening seven, what are you listening to?" Rong's father, who had just returned from school, knocked off his crossed leg and sat on the sofa.

Rong Wanqi opened her eyes and pulled off the headphones.

"DJ, the music is so high!" Rong Wan Qile replied, straightened up and half-reclined, and stuffed the headphones into Rong's father's ear.

Before he could stuff it into his ears, Father Rong was shocked by the pounding metal music and frowned. Jing Xie pushed away Rong Wanqi's hand insensitively.

"It's too noisy." Father Rong covered his ears in disgust.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're old, Headmaster. Can't keep up with the preferences of our generation, huh. "Girl export blows.

"Whoever is old, who is old." Father Rong immediately quit.

"Hey, you little girl, the longer you grow, the less sweet your mouth becomes!" Rong's father was ridiculed, raised his thick eyebrows, and made a vicious appearance.

"Hey, hey." Rong Wanqi stuck out his tongue. Immediately please.

Rong Wanqi has not quarreled with his father a few times in recent years, and life seems very boring.

Rong Wanqi regained her composure and plugged in her headphones and changed to a song. The original heavy metal music disappeared, and a nice piano sound came from the headphones. Rong Wanqi's heart turned into a pool of lake water. Squinted his eyes and looked at the fiery red in the sky through the floor-to-ceiling window, and gradually became distracted.

Ears filled with Mark. Trensi sang in a hoarse voice and affectionately, "I will be right here writing for you." ”

"What do you do all day at home?" Father Rong walked to the sofa and asked the half-lying girl, his voice low with a faint doting.

Father Rong looked down at the girl on the sofa. In the past four years, she has changed a lot. Out of the appearance of a thirteen-year-old child, he has already passed 165. That little face is not too much to describe as beautiful and refined.

Until the ears came out: "Writing for you" Mark. Trenci sang the last line affectionately.

Rong Wanqi suddenly thought that the senior had sung this song before, and she laughed to herself.

"Huh." Rong Wanqi's eyes lit up. Straightened up and jumped off the couch. Ran barefoot.

"Dad, is college on vacation?" Rong Wanqi stood at the kitchen door and asked Rong's father.

"Well, I don't know about that. That's your boyfriend, not mine, how do I know? Father Rong laughed playfully.

Yes, it's been four years, except for the first year when the college was on winter vacation, after the senior came back, the senior never came back. Rong Wanqi was very disappointed in her heart.

He forgot about himself, or ······

Rong Wanqi didn't dare to think further, the tears in her eyes were swirling, she turned around and left the kitchen, walked into her bedroom, closed the door, and sat on the floor with a slump.

Looking at the familiar bedroom, it was still the same as it was four years ago, the doll that the senior bought for her was still next to her pillow, and the thousand paper cranes that the senior folded for her were still in his gift box. The small powder blue tablecloth that the senior chose for her is still spread on her desk, and it has not changed a single bit.

Rong Wanqi fell on his cot and cried bitterly, I am still the same as before, you are still the same as before?

Rong Wanqi recalled the scene of the last time the senior came back, and the senior looked at him with doting eyes, and the affection in his eyes couldn't be hidden. He gently wrapped his arms around her smaller body, and the two watched the sun rise and set. The sweetness of the past filled Rong Wanqi's heart.

Senior, are you okay?