Han Chenluo squatted by the wall, and the light in front of him suddenly turned dark. He knew that Xia Xingran had already walked out, but at this moment, he only hated that he was not squatting low enough.

There was a burst of warmth overhead, followed by Xia Xingran's usual gentle voice: "Are you hungry?"

Han Chenluo raised his head in surprise and met Xia Xingran's smiling eyes. The Adam's apple, which frequently rolled up and down, easily betrayed his flustered mind at the moment.

Xia Xingran knew in his heart, and seeing that Han Chenluo didn't speak, he pulled him to stand up, pretending to be casual and said, "Since you're not hungry, accompany me to see a child."

Han Chenluo is like the male protagonist in a shadow puppet play, controlled by Xia Xingran, a craftsman, at will.

After a while, Xia Xingran stopped, took out his work card and swiped his card on the black machine at the door. With a "drop", the red on the black machine turned green. The door opened to both sides with a heavy sound.

Han Chenluo was a little conscious at this time, and when he looked up, it turned out that he had arrived at the neonatal intensive care unit.

Xia Xingran whispered hello to the doctors inside, and then walked to a hospital bed with Han Chenluo familiarly.

There was obvious regret in her eyes, and she pointed to the baby on the hospital bed whose skin was ulcerated and red, and all kinds of tubes were inserted, and said, "Xiao Luo, this is the daughter of the mother just now, and she was born with AIDS."

Han Chenluo's eyes immediately widened, his mouth opened and opened, but he didn't squeeze out a word.

Xia Xingran's gaze turned from the baby girl back to Han Chenluo's face, her teeth were slightly exposed, her eyes suddenly lit up, she smiled at Han Chenluo, it was like a firework in an instant, dazzling.

"I'm ready to adopt her, though."

As if he hadn't heard, Han Chenluo froze his eyes, bit his lips with his teeth, and was speechless. It took him a long time to react, and he looked at Xia Xingran with a blanket and confirmed, "Sister, did you just say that you want to adopt this child?"

Xia Xingran nodded: "Well, I've thought about it comprehensively. I can still afford to raise this child. Although the cost of the early treatment is relatively high, it is a big deal that I will ask Uncle Chang to borrow a little, and it will be the same for him to be repaid in the future."

"Sister, what the hell is this for, why?" Han Chenluo showed great incomprehension. Han Chenluo has no opinion on adopting a child, but the problem is that she is not an ordinary person with this child.

Xia Xingran was afraid that the noise would make the child rest, so he led Han Chenluo out. The sky was dark, and the starlight seemed to fall in Xia Xingran's eyes.

She leaned her back against the guardrail in the corridor, raised her head to meet Han Chenluo's puzzled gaze, looked at Han Chenluo meaningfully and said:

"Xiao Luo, you should know me very well. What is outside of me doesn't matter to me. What I care about most is peace of mind."

When Han Chenluo heard this, he immediately turned his head, his face full of struggle and awkwardness.

Xia Xingran's eyelids blinked meaningfully from top to bottom, then lowered his head slightly, shrugged his shoulders and smiled and continued, "Xiao Luo, there is no shortcut in life. If there is, it will be very costly in the future."

"Xiao Luo, at the most confused and precarious time in my life. You righteously said to me that using the money you earn from patients to help children in welfare homes is not charity at all. This move has not changed at all in essence."

Xia Xingran turned on his phone, slowly walked up to Han Chenluo and handed it to him. Han Chenluo took it and took a look, it was a news report of the 25 firefighters who died when their parents received their ashes.

The deafening crying and wailing sound seemed to have made a cut in Han Chenluo's heart, and time was like a pair of big hands, like tearing a piece of cloth, along that opening, gradually tearing his heart into countless pieces.

Xia Xingran sniffed twice, forced back the tears, and took back his mobile phone.

She patted Han Chenluo's stiff back as if she was soothing, coaxing a child, reluctant to use a slightly heavier tone, giving all the gentleness and patience, and said:

"Xiao Luo, I can understand you, it's a good thing for people to be enterprising and progressive. Everyone wants to go up to the sky in one step, to leave that filthy and dark swamp hell, and to live a life full of flowers and fire."

After she paused for half a second, her words changed, and her eyes suddenly became indifferent and cold, like a blade frozen in the snow:

"But if you're for me, you don't have to. For example, I wanted to adopt this child, who was born with AIDS. I, Xia Xingran, will never judge a person based on their origin, class, and material materiality."

She turned around and stood with her hands in her hands, her back straight, looking out the window at the endless black, and her tone was like wrapping a thousand pounds of olives:

"Xiao Luo, in my heart, you have always been a good boy with integrity and kindness. I don't want my presence to mess up your life that should be clean. It's too heavy for me to afford, and naturally I won't accept it."

The curtain on the window was rattled by the wind in the middle of the night, like a crumbling piece of paper, ready to burst at any moment.

Half a day later, Xia Xingran touched his cold arm, turned around and smiled at Han Chenluo and stretched out his hand: "Let's go, let's go home."

Sincerity is the best nirvana, and that's probably it.

……

When Chang Huan received the news, it was already the second day, and he almost didn't hesitate, and immediately sent 100,000 yuan to Xia Xingran.

Han Ranchen was painting, and when he heard about it, a cloud of color shook off the neat canvas. She paused, and then in just three or two strokes, the abrupt ball of paint became a grinning female doll.

"This child is also a great blessing in misfortune." Han Ranchen was wearing a simple black and white dress, her long hair was held by a pine hairpin, and a trace of distress flashed in her apricot eyes.

Chang Huan rubbed his legs, and when he first got up, he was faster, which made him feel a little sore. Han Ranchen caught a glimpse of it, and hurriedly stretched out his smooth and slender legs, hooked the stool opposite, and placed it behind Chang Huan.

Chang Huan's face turned red, and a layer of fine beads of sweat gradually oozed from his forehead. He bent down and moved the stool back to the right before he sat down on one leg.

The two of them didn't say anything for a while, and they could only hear Han Ranchen's rustling brushes and Chang Huan's pounding heartbeat.

After half a day, Chang Huan's eyes finally changed direction, looking at the painting that was about to be completed, and his eyes were as warm as jade, which seemed to contain affection.

"You've changed the painting again." On the canvas is a frolicking mother and daughter, sunny, blue sky, white clouds and green grass.

The warm wind blew from the window, and Chang Huan's gray hair fluttered with the wind with a slight warmth in the shadow of the sun, as if inlaid with a layer of shining gold edges.

Han Ranchen's paintings are extremely realistic and expressive, and for a moment, Chang Huan felt as if he had heard a pleasant laughter.

"I'm not as rich as you are, so I can only paint. It's barely a gift to talk about a little heart, and it should be regarded as a memorial to the mother and daughter for a fresh start."

Han Ranchen deliberately flattened his mouth, his eyes flashed, and a pair of big black and white eyes looked innocent and brilliant, full of naughtiness and cunning.

"You're making fun of me again." Chang Huan pretended to be angry, but those smiling eyes betrayed him first.

Since coming to the new autonomous region, the comfortable life has made Han Ranchen begin to pick up the brush again. Within a few months, the house they rented had been piled up a lot.

Most of these paintings are recorded local customs and customs, and a small part of them are inspired by Han Ranchen's feelings. She basically gave away all the portraits, and she plans to wait for the dust to settle down, open an exhibition, and if she is lucky enough to sell them, she will donate all the money.

After laughing for a while, Chang Huan rode the second-hand three-wheeled motorcycle and drove Han Ranchen to the post office dozens of kilometers away.

An hour later, the two arrived at the post office. Han Ranchen jumped out of the car, and the two of them dusted each other off the road.

When they packed up their clothes and were about to go in, they accidentally bumped into a postman who came out of it, and they flipped on their backs for a while.

After Han Ranchen helped Chang Huan up, he hurriedly helped the postman up, and when he was about to say sorry, he felt that this person seemed a little familiar.

The man was wearing a black mask, and his dark eyes were spinning and turning. Glancing up at Han Ranchen, his pupils quickly shrank as sharp as a needle.

He hurriedly stood up, waved his hands quickly, and then escaped into the green postal car. In a matter of seconds, it was gone.

"What's wrong, acquaintance?" Chang Huan stretched out his palm and shook it in Han Ranchen's confused eyes.

Han Ranchen came back to his senses, blinked his eyes quickly a few times, and said, "I'm not very impressed, but I always feel abrupt in my heart."

"Don't get motion sickness. You go sit and rest first, and I'll send you the paintings." Chang Huan held Han Ranchen in his right hand, pushed open the glass door with his left hand, and entered the post office.

Han Ranchen looked at Chang Huan's inflexible back, couldn't help but look out again, and finally got up and walked to the service desk and asked, "Hello, excuse me, may I ask how long the postman just now has been working with you?"

There was a slight confusion in the eyes of the staff at the front desk, but they still replied politely, "I don't know much about this. Is there anything wrong with you?"

Han Ranchen frowned slightly, his deep gaze seemed distant and deep, his eyes were full of doubts, and there was a faint melancholy in his confusion.

"Do you know his name?" For fear of being seen, Han Ranchen hurriedly added, "When I just entered the door, I accidentally bumped into him. There's always something in my heart that I can't go, you see......

The staff at the front desk sighed, and the wrinkled brows suddenly brightened. She looked down and rummaged through the table to find a folder. After opening it, he flipped to a staff information sheet, then turned around and picked it up and handed it to Han Ranchen.

"Well, that's it." The staff member pointed to the ninth person in the six rows, counting from left to right.

"Congfan." Han Ranchen silently read it a few times, took out his mobile phone and wrote down his contact information.