Today will pass, and tomorrow will never be late.

The second the night passed, the moment the sun rose.

Yesterday didn't seem to be so important.

Wang Qi, who lost the chess, seemed to have picked up her former self, and she began to teach vigorously at home, and began to talk to the parents of the students as before.

It's just that this time it's no longer a fool, it's a promise.

She really wants to train these children to become professional chess players like her.

I also sincerely feel that these simple and simple children should have a greater future than their former selves.

Yang Zheng felt that after the Spring Festival, it seemed that everyone was changing.

The chess nerds who used to hate smartphones the most now seem to be inseparable from smartphones.

Wang Fugui, who always talks about big truths and lives like a reason, seems to have no big or small reason now, because he looks at the children he teaches, and he feels that giving them the most primitive happiness seems to be more important than reason.

Of course, the biggest change is Huanhuan.

Since she came back from her hometown, she has become harder than before.

Now Huanhuan paints almost for more than ten hours a day, she works hard, she works hard, but she still has no gain.

The quality of her paintings is also uneven.

Her eyes don't seem to have lost their former brilliance.

Yang Zheng was very worried about her. But he couldn't think of anything he could do to restore her former light.

When grades are everything, it seems that useless effort is a fault.

Is Huanhuan really wrong?

She looked at the comics, whose grades were getting worse and worse, and for the first time she put down her pen and began to wonder if she was really fit for the job.

She also felt pain for the first time.

When hard work is not duly rewarded, the pain is unforgettable.

When she walked out of the room and came to the living room, she saw Yang Zheng with a worried face.

She also habitually squeezed out a smile, and she also inadvertently looked at the empty vase.

She may be thinking that Yang Zheng has also changed.

But before she could put away the smile on her face, Yang Zheng stood up silently.

He took Huanhuan's hand, and under her surprised gaze, he led her out of the seemingly warm room.

The bright sun sprinkled on them unreservedly the moment they stepped out of the iron gate, it was the rising and setting sun.

The warm sunset and the gradually warming temperature made her and him feel that spring should actually be the most beautiful season of the year.

"Let's go, I'll take you to chess." Yang Zheng lowered his head and said with a flushed face.

Playing chess is probably the only thing Yang Zheng can do to help Huanhuan.

Playing chess is probably the best way for Yang Zheng, who is not good at words, to express his emotions.

Playing chess is more likely to be all that Yang Zheng is now.

He couldn't refuse to take her, through the streets and alleys, through the crowds, to the park he was most familiar with, at this time, there were not many people still playing chess in the park.

Those who are familiar with Yang Zheng look at Yang Zheng to bring a girl to the park, their faces are warmer and brighter than spring.

"Yang Zheng, you're finally here!"

"Who is this girl? It's so good-looking! ”

"Gee, it's the first time I've seen you bring a girl to the park."

Those familiar people looked at Yang Zheng with a flushed face again, and couldn't help but joke.

They are also kind and lovely.

After all, they all shut up after seeing that the girl's face was also flushed.

They even gave up the chess game that had been anxious just now, and gave up the half-played chessboard to Yang Zheng.

After all, in their eyes, Yang Zheng, who is almost thirty, needs this chessboard more than men like them.

This wonderful tacit understanding could not have happened in this park, nor could it have happened under this chessboard.

But they happened again.

It's even more incredible.

Yang Zheng blushed and brought Huanhuan, who was also blushing, to the chessboard.

He pointed to the empty seat next to him, and used sign language to signal Huanhuan to sit down.

At the moment when the sign language was lit up, the whole park was silent at first, and then boiling.

These men who have experienced different lives, don't they all have their own wisdom and ways of dealing with the world?

These men who are crawling at the bottom of life, why don't they understand the meaning of Yang Zheng's gesture?

They are good and wise.

Otherwise, how could they treat normal people like normal people, and they want to give Yang Zheng, the well-known "chess king" in the park, a little color?

Huanhuan lowered her head, she listened to the unfamiliar encouragement around her, the uneasiness and wandering in her heart, and the trace of inferiority complex from the disabled, all seemed to turn into an indescribable move at this moment.

She stretched out her hand and stroked the crudely made pieces.

These chess pieces, which are obviously rough enough to pierce their hands, seem to have a different kind of charm, which makes her feel inexplicably calm.

She smiled and held the cannon in her hand, slamming it on the chessboard.

As the first cannon, why not the life she has always longed for?

……

Yang Zheng's chess skills are very high, even higher than the men around him who use chess as a pastime combined.

But his game of chess probably can't win against the other side.

Because there are too many people on the other side who are willing to give Huanhuan advice.

Chess is a product of human ingenuity. When many human wisdom comes together, even a chess player with ordinary chess ability will become a real chess master in the collection of many wisdoms.

Huanhuan is like a chess master who has gathered countless wisdom at this time, she seems to have forgotten a lot of unhappiness when she holds the piece, and under the guidance of the gossip behind her, she also seems to have forgotten the past when she has never played Yang Zheng.

Her chess pieces seem to have a soul slowly.

Every move she made seemed to have taken her own ideas and wisdom.

The horizontal and vertical strokes of the chess pieces as they move are also very similar to the lines she sketched in the pictorial.

The sound of the collision of chess pieces and chess pieces is more like the collision of ideas that no one cares about.

"Tomorrow will be better."

Yang Zheng looked at the gradual brightness on the Huanhuan chessboard.

He couldn't help but say again: "Because yesterday is always yesterday, and today can become tomorrow." ”

"But tomorrow will never be yesterday."

Huanhuan listened to Yang Zheng's seemingly self-talking nagging, and the smile on the corner of her mouth bloomed again.

She held the cannon in her hand and gently smashed into Yang Zheng's camp.

She seemed to want to talk about the general, but she, who was born dumb, could only make a stumbling voice.

However, on top of this branch, she felt that there were many people behind her, shouting the word general for her.