It's going to change.

The girl who sells flowers sits on a bench in the park, holding a rough bamboo basket, her face covered by the high and low branches.

Predictably bleak business. In other words, except for the days of the year, business is rarely better.

The park is always lively. All sorts of people walked past her eyes. There are children who run with soap bubbles and fall halfway, there are beautiful women who are drunk and staggering around a tree, and there are veterans who have an empty trouser tube and are still on crutches but still have a straight waist.

The September wind, unusually chilly, still couldn't blow off the stubborn leaves of these trees brought from the south. The thinly dressed girl couldn't help but shrink her neck, and a few slender flower branches fell from the flower basket due to her small movements, and before she could reach out to pick them up, they were run over by several pairs of shoes one after another.

The girl stared intently at the broken flower branch for a long time, and there was no trace of regret on her face, but she laughed inexplicably.

She suddenly looked up and watched the man in the suit and leather shoes approaching step by step.

"Why are there only so many flowers?" It's obviously whining, but the man doesn't read it naturally.

"Sorry sir, there are only a few flowers that can be sold right now." The girl smiled at him.

The man took out his wallet from his pocket and pretended to bargain for a long time, causing passers-by to frown and look at him several times. It wasn't until several people who passed by deliberately took a few steps away from him that the man shook his wallet, took out a few coins, bent down and picked for a while, and strode away with the few branches that were not in a bundle.

The contingency factor has been corrected. It is expected that at 10 a.m. two days later, the original location will be prepared.

Condition is ready. The girl hummed quietly. An unknown seabird had been circling and flying above her for a while, perhaps bewildered by the strange island that had suddenly appeared. With one free hand, she waved vigorously at the seabird, not knowing whether to call it or drive it away. At this time, the big basket of flowers seemed to be a little in the way, and she suddenly wanted to run along the road all the way to the end and throw all the flowers in her hand into the sea.

It's not a trivial thing, it's okay to be willful.

The girl held the flower and struggled to her feet. It was getting darker, and the wind slapped the cool flowers on her face, and then turned into her neckline and sleeves. The girl couldn't help but close her eyes and shudder.

When he opened his eyes again, a young man appeared in front of him. The girl was stunned, then hugged the flower basket in her arms tighter, and asked, "Does Mr. want to buy flowers?" ”

A moment earlier, she had noticed the man. With his back to the girl, he stood alone under a tree, motionless, but more like a tree than the other.

The young man nodded, his face expressionless, but not cold or dignified. He simply took out a large piece of money with one hand and handed it to the girl, and took the flower basket with the other hand, without even a fragile flower.

"You ......" the girl was about to speak, but was interrupted by the young man.

"Let's go home." He whispered.

Flower baskets don't quite fit in with young people. His expression was calm and solemn, not quite like something bright as holding flowers; The flowers could only climb up his shoulders, as if they were leaning against a gray hill.

"Thank you." The girl's hands trembled a little, and she tried her best not to show too strange expressions, until the hero nodded slightly again, and then turned and walked away.

I didn't expect the first time we met, it was in such a dramatic form.

The girl covered her face and squatted down little by little.

Trembling slightly, she shrank back and let out a muffled laugh.