Mr. Bo, you are out of favor

Han Chuan came here with a friend today. He was sitting in the car, looking at the caller ID on his phone, lost in thought.

The phone rang again, but he still had no intention of answering.

"A Chuan, do you plan to pick it up if you don't?" A deep voice floated from the cab.

Han Chuan reluctantly pulled his lips: "I don't need to pick up people who don't matter."

"Is there something wrong with such a persistent phone call?"

"It's okay, let's go." Han Chuan's voice was hoarse.

The car left the parking lot quickly, and Han Chuan was a little absent-minded.

The phone rang again, the driver hit the brakes, and the car slowed down. The driver stared out of the car window, chuckled, and pointed to the woman in the rain: "This woman is crazy, such a heavy rain, she is suffering How much damage."

Han Chuan looked in the direction of his finger, and his tone was a little anxious: "Stop."

The car was not stable yet, Han Chuan opened the door, held an umbrella and ran over.

Song Linyue flinched in the rain and kept calling his name.

Han Chuan approached and put an umbrella on top of her head, blocking the biting cold falling from the sky.

Song Linyue was stunned, and turned around to see the man holding an umbrella above her head, with mist rising from her eyes.

Han Chuan took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around the drenched woman in front of him.

Song Linyue suddenly threw herself into Han Chuan's arms, her slender and cold arms patted his strong and straight back, her voice sobbing, "Han Chuan, you bastard!"

Han Chuan didn't move, and kept holding the umbrella.

Song Linyue had cried enough, she withdrew from Han Chuan's warm embrace, sobbing softly: "Why didn't you answer my phone?"

Han Chuan raised his hand to wipe the drops of water or tears on her cheeks, and passed the umbrella over. His voice was low and hoarse: "Take care of yourself."

After speaking, he turned around and walked towards the car.

Song Linyue was startled, threw away the umbrella that Han Chuan threw over, and hugged his thin waist from behind: "Han Chuan, don't go, don't leave me."

Han Chuan paused, and said softly, "Miss Song, we are not suitable."

Song Linyue was a little emotional: "Don't lie to me, I already know."

She buried her head in Han Chuan's back, crying uncontrollably: "Han Chuan, I'm sorry..."

Han Chuan's body froze. The scorching heat passed through the drenched cloth, burning his skin and spreading to his limbs. He frowned, and the pair of small hands around his waist Let go.

She clung to his back, her body slowly slid down.

He was a little flustered, and hastily stretched out his hands to hold her in his arms. She faintly felt a touch of coldness and softness falling on her forehead, and faintly heard him calling her name anxiously...

Song Linyue woke up at noon the next day.

The rain outside had stopped, and the sun was shining brightly, and a ray of sunlight sprinkled on her pale face through the window.

When she opened her eyes, her eyes were completely white. She blinked and remembered last night. She got up from the bed abruptly. Without seeing Han Chuan, she reached out and pulled out the needle in her other hand. The action was too hasty, and some blood was drawn out of the needle.

She didn't have time to wipe it, so she got up and walked to the door. Just as she opened the door of the ward, she collided with Han Chuan who was carrying the breakfast she had just bought.

Song Linyue took two steps back and nearly fell down. Han Chuan quickly grabbed her in his arms.

When Song Linyue stood still, he let go of her slender waist and walked into the ward.

He put down the breakfast in his hand, and his low voice spread in the ward: "You are in such a hurry, what are you going to do?"