The next day, He Xiyan came to Mo's house at ten o'clock in the morning.

She wore a long dark blue knitted skirt and her hair was dyed dark brown. Under the delicate makeup, she looks only in her thirties.

She walked into the villa where she had lived for more than three years, and after more than twenty years, the villa had long since been renovated, and many of the furniture she had personally selected was no longer there.

"Mrs. Ye ......"

Seeing her come in, Aunt Li, who was cleaning, hurriedly put down the tools in her hand.

He Xiyan nodded, and then asked, "Mr. Mo?" ”

"Mr. Mo is in the living room."

He Xiyan then walked in the direction of the living room, holding something like a picture frame in her hand, nearly 30 inches. Wrapped in fine drawing paper.

When she came to the living room, she first put the things she had brought on the coffee table not far away, and then turned around and looked at the man in a wheelchair in front of the window.

Her ex-husband Mo Yixuan.

As if he didn't know he was coming, he was still in his wheelchair motionless.

She looked at his back, a little emaciated.

He was thin, as if she had seen him at a banquet more than two years ago.

He Xiyan paused for a few seconds before slowly walking towards the window.

As she approached him, she finally saw his hand move, but he didn't speak.

She asked Mo Ling, and Mo Ling told her that his father was just a little unclear in his speech, like he stuttered, but he could still speak and communicate with people.

"Mo ......" He Xiyan wanted to call his name, but the last two words somehow didn't come out.

"I'm coming to see you." She said in a deep voice.

Mo Yixuan heard it, he bit his lip tightly, his eyes blinked from time to time, and after a while, two tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.

In fact, as soon as she walked into this living room, he knew that she was coming. More than twenty years later, he could still hear her footsteps.

He Xiyan saw that he didn't speak, walked around behind him, and pushed him to the sofa in the living room.

"I'll help you sit on the couch." She pursed her lips and smiled faintly, then held out her hand.

And Mo Yixuan still didn't speak, but his right hand suddenly stretched out.

He Xiyan hurriedly held his arm and carefully helped him up.

Mo Ling said that his father was able to walk slowly with his hands on his feet, and he was not completely unconscious.

The two sat on the sofa together, and He Xiyan sat on Mo Yixuan's left hand side. She turned her head to look at him, and when she looked at him closely, he realized that he had really aged a lot, and there were many wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his forehead, and his hair, which had also turned a little whiter. She hadn't seen him for more than two years, and she felt as if he had suddenly aged ten years old.

Suddenly, her heart was a little sour, unspeakably uncomfortable, and then tears appeared in her eyes.

She remembered many, many years ago, when they sat together in this hall, when he was in his twenties, handsome, handsome, and in his prime.

And now......

Mo Yixuan reached into his pocket at this time, and took out a pen and a small notebook from it.

After a while, he wrote a few words on it, one by one.

He writes slowly, but he tries to make it look good.

He Xiyan leaned over and found that what he wrote was:

"How are you doing?"

She smiled wryly and nodded at him.