No one can understand Jiang Che's liking, every time he goes home, he will always stop and watch her back disappear from sight, and then he will silently walk into his home.

As soon as you enter the door, you can see her mother who is busy in the kitchen, her small body is very skillful in adding spices to the pot, and the air is filled with a strong fragrance, Jiang Che sniffed, put the schoolbag on the sofa, and said to the mother who was cooking, "Mom, I'm back." ”

Then came the mother's voice, "Sit down for a while, wash your hands, and the meal will be ready immediately." ”

"Is there anything I can help me with?" Jiang Che poked his head out and asked.

"Then, you can peel a garlic for me."

Then Jiang Che picked up the garlic from the kitchen and ran outside, until the sound of his mother's urging came, Jiang Che walked in without slowness or hurry. Taking the garlic, Shen Wen scolded with a smile, while looking at her son, who was taller than herself and sensible, and was busy with satisfaction.

Occasionally, Luo Yuqing's conversation was heard at dinner time, accompanied by the sound of a spatula turning in the pot, which came into my ears intermittently. Most of the time, Jiang Che would sit on the balcony of his house, looking forward to the figure that would also appear on the other side.

The orange sunset in the sky will hang obliquely at this moment, burning the fiery red clouds. Also, the smile that was also reflected in the glow. Then the next morning, we still went to school together and got out of school.

Such a time has continued for three years. It's like they're already familiar enough to play together, they can squat on the ground and pick up stones, and at the same time they're more skilled and memorize more than whoever recites today. More than a thousand days and nights are like a huge river, which can eliminate all unfamiliarity and discomfort, except for the moon that still hangs overhead, and the sky with four seasons.

The red scarf, which was not worn in the same year, was removed in the same year, and without this obvious sign, everyone seemed to think that they had grown up, and the physiology of puberty did not frighten this group of children, but made them notice the difference between men and women. The boy's deep voice and the increasingly pronounced Adam's apple, and the girl's chest bud are full of hormones.

Luo Yuqing is like this, with the advent of the first menarche, she can feel the obvious changes in her body, and she feels a little more shy. finally understood why when she asked Jiang Che how her voice had changed and become so ugly, Jiang Che would say that it was normal.

When I was sixteen years old, I went to school once, and the sky was so gray that it seemed to be covered with a black cloth, and the winter morning was even more lazy, and in such a morning, I saw all the students who were red from the cold, and the students who wanted to stuff all their exposed skin into their clothes, walking slowly on the concrete road. It's like a clown, like a skin that is always on guard against being exposed and mosquitoes want to attack.

And Jiang Che was still waiting for her, stopping when she passed a steamed bun shop, and came out with two hot white flour steamed buns and two bags of milk in her hands.

Luo Yuqing knew what it meant, because it wasn't the first time, but she still turned her head proudly, but the white steamed bun was steaming, and the white steamed bun with a knife in her stomach was red chili oil, which was more like a fire in winter, which made her whole body warm up, and then it was a clear voice that was different from the past, and it sounded in a low voice.

"Give."

"I'm not hungry, I had breakfast." Luo Yuqing endured the tempting fragrance, saliva kept secreting in her mouth, she wanted to eat it very much, but she didn't mind Jiang Che knowing that she didn't eat breakfast, which meant that she was too lazy.

"Hand warmer."

"Huh?"

Jiang Che glanced at Luo Yuqing and repeated it angrily. It's just that such eyes are full of pampering.

"Steamed buns warm your hands, what is that milk for?" Luo Yuqing teased him after taking it.

The start is warm and soft, most of the shops in the town are very simple, and the steamed buns are made very large, using the best baking soda, so they are fluffy and fluffy, without the slightest stiff feeling. I lowered my head and took a bite, and the warm and sweet breath went down my throat to my lungs, warmed my heart, and along with the tears, I was so hot that my eyes bloomed.

She knew that Jiang Che was not as indifferent and difficult to get along with as others imagined, he just didn't want to express it. In many cases, Luo Yuqing wondered if such a boy still existed, he didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't wear earrings, didn't dye his hair, and was considerate. Without the slightest rebellion in adolescence, he plays the guitar well, and seems to be the most perfect prince charming in a girl's heart. I don't hear of any mistakes.

"I can't stop you if you have to eat."

"No, I'm afraid that you're so good to me, and my boyfriend won't be happy to see it!"

"Oh!"

Then there was a long silence.

It seemed to be colder, and Jiang Che took a hard breath. Raise your head, and those damp mist floating in your sight will run restlessly into your eyes at this moment, with wetness.

If you look at it from the perspective of passers-by, you can see that under the sky that has not yet been completely brightened, two figures are walking slowly. The camphor tree with gray outlines on the side of the road, the obscured morning fog not far away, the calm boy and the girl with her head down and biting on the steamed bun. Such a picture is like a young boy and girl who is in love for the first time.

This kind of skylight is actually more suitable for love than midsummer, because it can give more and protect more.

Clapping her hands, Luo Yuqing took out a tissue from Jiang Che's pocket next to her, wiped the tiny steamed bun crumbs from her mouth, raised her hand, and took the finished milk bag in her hand to ...... The graceful angle landed next to the trash can, and Luo Yuqing smiled dryly.

At this time, Jiang Che shrugged helplessly, took a few steps forward, drank the milk in his hand in a few sips, bent down, and got up to be the milk bag that was thrown into the trash.

……

It was like a huge river that lasted for three years, removing all the unfamiliarity and discomfort. The estrangement between people is like the sediment in the river, and some people accumulate more and more until they come out of the water, and even cut off the flow and divert the course, and there is no intersection again. For others, the channels are getting wider and wider, and all kinds of undercurrents are widening the channels day by day, until they are renamed river channels, and they are washed away without the slightest sediment. It's so clear that you can see the bottom, but it's a light veil.

No accumulation of steps, no thousands of miles; If you don't accumulate small streams, you can't become rivers and seas. This is what has been taught in junior high school Chinese textbooks.

Therefore, when there is such a considerate boy around you, who waits for school every day regardless of the wind or rain, remember that you don't eat breakfast, although you will proudly say that the breakfast you buy you is to warm your hands in winter, although you will occasionally lose your temper.

The black coat imprinted a sad silhouette in the gray winter skylight, and the calm black pupils loomed in the mist. You covet all his goodness, greedily consume everything he brings, and become beautiful and gentle in such a boy.

You are afraid that such beauty will disappear in the next moment and become an excuse for other girls to show off. You can see that he will be happy to take the pen, and you give him the pen that just flashed through his mind, and he was stunned for a long time.

Then countless days and nights alternate, placed in the place closest to him, there must be its shadow. Maybe in a shirt pocket on the chest, maybe in a trouser pocket. You even forget that your stick has long been drained of ink, and you don't know where it has been discarded, and it will be difficult to find it.

His, on the other hand, has always existed.

It is such a beautiful, clean companionship, with the small river called time gradually moving away, just like the camphor tree covered by car exhaust, I can't see the original appearance, silently sad.

It has been said that the passage of time cannot be recorded by any carrier. With a pen? It will fade over time, leaving only pale and weak words. Attentively? Those images that you thought you could remember in your mind for a lifetime will be forgotten under the corrosion of sadness and sadness.