Soon, there was a burst of rice in the kitchen, and it smelled fresh and salty, and it was very familiar.

Ding Bao no longer remembered when Lin Jinmo learned to be a good cook.

It seems that since she moved out of the orphanage at the age of eighteen, the man left with her and moved into the two-bedroom apartment she rented.

At that time, her job was unstable, she had just been taken by Qin Bi to work, and she often ate the last meal without the next meal, except for the rent of 1,005 per month, the rest of the money was very tight even for three meals a day.

In order to save money, Ding Bao learned to cook by himself.

She has no talent for cooking, she doesn't eat well, and over time she spoils gastritis.

So one day in the next day, Ding Bao, who had been tired all day, came home, and as soon as he entered the door, he smelled the fragrance of oil, the smell of fresh food after stir-frying, which Ding Bao had never smelled in his life.

Walking into the kitchen, fifteen-year-old Lin Jinmo was standing in the kitchen, holding a plate of fried meat in his hand, and said flatly.

"Serve the meal, there is another dish, you will eat it first when you are hungry."

That should be Lin Jinmo's first time cooking.

The food tasted surprisingly good.

Different from the same taste in the restaurant, Lin Jinmo's fried dishes have a unique taste, full of fresh and fragrant, which makes Ding Bao instantly appetite.

Since then, whenever Ding Bao comes home, he can always eat a hearty meal on time.

Ding Bao deducted the rent and daily expenses from the money he earned every month, and left the rest to Lin Jinmo.

Not much, it will be enough for him to eat three meals a day.

But every time Ding Bao goes home, after all, there are four dishes and one soup, there is meat and vegetables, she is not picky, and she can discs every time.

At that time, Ding Bao knew that the money he gave was enough for him to solve the problem of eating, and Lin Jinmo only wore a few seasonal clothes, washed white T-shirts, and a pair of jeans with holes in his knees.

Even so, he can still cook for Ding Bao with meat and vegetables.

That's six or seven years.

Ding Bao is getting busier and busier, sometimes she won't go home for ten days and half a month, and her stomach that she has finally cultivated has been tossed out again, and she has no time to care about these.

Then he left.

Ding Bao never ate his cooking again.

After two years, I looked at the four dishes and one soup in front of me, and I still felt a little nostalgic in my heart.

As before, the two sat facing each other, and Lin Jinmo served her a bowl of soup, and her movements were as skillful as usual.

"Your craft hasn't changed."

"I haven't done it in a long time."

"When did you learn to cook?"

In Ding Bao's impression, the first meal he cooked was already delicious.

Now it seems that it certainly wasn't the first time he had cooked.

The man lowered his head and drank the soup, and his tone was indifferent.

"After I moved out of the orphanage, I learned to do it."

Ding Bao didn't know.

It's not so much that I don't know, but that I don't care.

After a tiring day, I didn't pay attention to the remaining marks in the kitchen, the wounds on the boy's hands, and the efforts he made behind the scenes.

In the face of him, everything becomes a matter of course.

Because it's so familiar.

He is always cold and silent, his tone of voice is light, and his temperament is also light, not revealing any emotion.

Ding Bao ate a lot of this meal.

It wasn't until I finally stood up that I realized that I was holding on a little.

Lin Jinmo finally took out the cake, placed it in the middle of the table, lit it after inserting a candle, and looked at Ding Bao silently, as if he was expecting something.

"Make a wish."

"I want to do it all over again."

As he spoke, he blew out the candle, and in Ding Bao's hand before he could react, he continued.

"In that case, I won't hide it from you anymore."

"If you say it, it won't work."

"My wish is not for God, but for you."

In the end, he humbly begged for forgiveness.

Obviously, he is the one who pays silently behind his back, but he is the one who apologizes in the end.

Ding Bao raised her eyes and looked at the red mark on his cheek that had not completely disappeared, and she pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry."

She wanted to say so much that in the end there was only one sentence left.

I'm sorry.

Rao is her insight into people's hearts, but she didn't expect the truth to be so.

Selfish in her bones, she never thought of observing Lin Jinmo's heart.

After a long silence, the man smiled.

"Go wash and sleep, life will go on, I hope my words today won't affect your plans."

He got up to leave, but Ding Bao called out to him.

"Stay tonight, and I'll drive you back tomorrow."

——

Lying on the bed, the man faced the dazzling light overhead, holding the quilt sent by Ding Bao in his arms, thinking about everything that happened today.

To this day, he can't imagine that these things are real.

He and Ding Bao can eat together, chat together, and cover the quilt that was dried on the same day after washing, separated by a wall, so close.

He didn't expect that Ding Bao would accept himself as before.

It was so unreal that the man did not dare to close his eyes, for fear that when he opened his eyes again, he would find himself still in the cold hospital room, feeling the blood flowing from his body, and suffering loneliness and death alone.

Hold the quilt and take a deep breath.

"Ding Bao ......"

He always called her Ding Bao.

This title is not close enough, so when she turns her back to him, the man will silently call her "good baby".

Because the way she slept was completely different from that of the day, her slender body curled up in a ball and wrapped in the quilt, sleeping in a well-behaved and docile position.

Every now and then, he lay down beside her, whispering over and over again what belonged to him.

"Good Baby ......"

I can't shout enough.

It would be nice if I could hug her.

People are greedy.

A day ago, he was expecting that he would be able to cook a meal for Ding Bao before the end of his life.

Now he even thought about hugging.

He didn't close his eyes this night, leaned against the wall, stretched out his hand and gently touched the wall, imagining that Ding Bao was pillowing beside him across the wall.

Early the next morning, Ding Bao was woken up by the smell of rice.

When she opened the door, she saw the breakfast on the table at a glance.

Men are skillful, make a must-have pasta, not only delicious but also good-looking, chubby buns will also be pinched into the shape of rabbits and pigs, fried eggs are perfectly shaped, chopsticks poke lightly, will flow out orange-red egg liquid, is Ding Bao's favorite food.

After breakfast, Lin Jinmo washed and set the dishes, changed his shoes and waited at the door, watching Ding Bao put on his coat and take the car keys.

When the car slowly drove towards the hospital, the man returned to his yesterday state, low and indifferent, twisting his face to look out the window, full of living people not to approach.

Before arriving at the hospital, Ding Bao got out of the car with him.

Lin Jinmo walked fast, but his arm was suddenly grabbed.