Looking at the side face of the young man on horseback with a condensed mockery, under the twilight, his flying eyebrows, cold tea pupils, and pointed chin. It is clear that he looks gloomy and indifferent on weekdays. And Lan Qingchuan knew that behind this young man's unbridled vividness, there was a heavy and untouchable memory, which was his taboo and counter-scale.

Many things in life are so heavy and euphemistic that they are unspeakable. To him, to her, to all those who rise and fall upside down.

"I've been watching me for so long, how can I get it back?"

He turned his head, and the corners of his mouth were viciously picked in the backlight, and his face was bright and dark.

She looked away and pulled the reins, leaving him with only a cold, straight back and long hair fluttering in the shadows of the golden trees.

Since then, the relationship between the two seems to have eased considerably. Sometimes Lan Qingchuan would see Han Luochen on the path of Xilin when he ran in the morning, and the two glanced at each other, and then passed by, and there was no condensation and silence before.

A month later, Han Luochen lifted the ban and went to the academy, and the number of meetings decreased.

Lan Qingchuan also began to enter the final exam period at the end of the semester, and she spent most of her time in the library, or borrowed some books to take home, and sat and looked at it for an afternoon.

On this day, the weather was cold, with the bleak atmosphere of late autumn.

Lan Qingchuan met Ling Haofeng, who was sitting quietly by the window, the faint sunlight shining through his dark jade-like hair, kissing his quiet and gentle side face.

He changed the book today, and from Lan Qingchuan's point of view, he only saw Samuelson's printing font, and she remembered that Ling Haofeng read Stiglitz's book on information economics a few days ago.

He was very engaged, and the notebook documents at hand were slowly filled with translated economic professional papers.

Taking off the flannel jacket on his body, Lan Qingchuan sat down opposite him, took out the book he borrowed from him last time from his bag, and gently placed it on his pile of materials.

Ling Haofeng happened to take off the glasses on the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. His eyes were dark and moist, gentle and profound, and he already had the rudiments of a top bachelor's immeasurable connotation.

He saw Lan Qingchuan holding his long hair, his face was beautiful, and his eyelashes hung long on his eyelids, covering his quiet and cold eyes in the past. He heard that Lan Qingchuan had studied at Marguerite, a first-class university in France, and was highly regarded for his talents. She is really good and persistent enough to work hard. In the famous Qingtan, it is rare to see such a girl who specializes in academics, most of the students only rely on the family and talent, but they have already squandered their youth in the colorful empty life, which is the sadness of this era.

He put his glasses back on, and his mind returned to the books. Other people's choices, other people's paths, he is noncommittal. It's not that he's indifferent and selfish, it's really someone else's life, and it's inconvenient for him to comment, let alone take care of it. He will soon be in the Ling Center, where he will be up and down in the mall, so that there is not much left of the comfortable and quiet college life.

Born in such a family, it is inevitable to pay a certain price to fulfill the responsibilities and missions shouldered.

Gradually, an afternoon passed. Lan Qingchuan clipped the bookmark, and when he looked up, he found that Ling Haofeng was also packing up his notebook and preparing to leave. Seeing her looking at him, Ling Haofeng curled his lips: How is the final summary going?

She followed him out of the library, put on her coat, pushed her long hair to the side of her neck, nodded slightly, and said, "It's okay." ”

He smiled, and that was no problem.

Seeing that he took off his glasses, she asked again, "How are you doing, you are always busy." ”