The president is committing suicide

After returning from the hospital, Ding Jiaying kept repeating one sentence in her mind. It was Shen Cong's voice: "Is she really not coming back?"

For a brief moment, she didn't hear any answer through the door.

After opening the door, Shen Cong acted as if everything was normal. On the way back, Ding Jiaying even wondered if she was hallucinating and if what she heard from him was real.

Now I sit cross-legged on the bed, and the videos in my mobile phone’s cloud disk play repeatedly in front of me.

She was not watching her skillful and enchanting dance, but the last few seconds, the man whose back was full of dominance and whose anger almost broke through the screen.

He is Shen Cong, and he is 100% in love with the damn woman dancing on the stage.

She knew she was eating a very new kind of vinegar, her own vinegar.

Xiao Mimi and the professor also advised her to live a good life and not think too much.

But after Ding Jiaying realized that she had fallen in love with Shen Cong, she could not forgive herself for not being the same Ding Jiaying as before.

Yes, this sentence is contradictory.

Ding Jiaying couldn't even find a reason to be angry about this.

In the closet, in the bathroom, and even on the bookshelf, there are traces of the passionate and bold Ding Jiaying's past. She exists, not in some illusory memory or past time.

She exists in every corner and every moment of Ding Jiaying's life.

Because her current life friends are the result of her previous life. For example, Xiao Mimi, whom she met a long time ago, has been transformed by Ding Jiaying and is now guiding her love life.

The huge toilet vase in the middle of the dining table is a modernist style. It is the remnant of Ding Jiaying's aesthetic change in her life.

The galaxy-like lamp above her head and the Murmansk snowman doll on the bed are like ice cream cones randomly placed in her life. It seems that they can be easily moved away at any time, but they will appear in some corner next time.

Or maybe she realized that the person who existed beside her was the one she left behind. For example, Shen Cong.

You cannot compare yourself with someone who does not exist, and you cannot defeat yourself.

Ding Jiaying was discouraged and upset. She wanted to find Shen Cong, so she rushed to the study and knocked on his door.

But then?

The door opened, what did she say? Ask him the answer he had already stated over and over again?

Wouldn't she be considered a neurotic lunatic?

What reason is there to be angry? What reason is there to be dissatisfied?

Whether in terms of money or emotion, Shen Cong gave enough.

Reason told Ding Jiaying that reality had stopped her in her tracks, and she lay on her broad, soft bed, letting her thoughts drift in the Milky Way.

Shen Cong had not gone to bed yet. He had finished today's work but had not walked out of the study.

The water cup in front of him was empty, and he had been staring at it for some time.

"Aren't you afraid that she'll find out? It's not right to do this."

He knew everything the professor said, but what could he do?

The moment he opened the door, he knew Ding Jiaying had heard something.

He just wasn't sure how much she'd heard.

He placed his hands on the table with his fingers interlaced.

He was waiting, waiting for her to come over angrily and bang on the door.

In fact, even though he had thought it through, he was still a little confused. Shen Cong hoped that it would not come to that.

Time slipped away with the relentless mechanical sound of the clock, and little by little the hour hand moved to the one position.

Shen Cong opened the door with somewhat stiff hands and feet.

Walking on the carpet in the corridor, he could hear the sound of his heart beating, like a giant stepping through the valley.

He placed his hand on the door handle of the room, then pulled it back.

Shen Cong pricked up his ears for a moment but didn't hear any sound, so he lowered his head and returned to his room.

He couldn't sleep. Both his dream and reality made him uneasy. The darkness on the wall was gradually replaced by a blue-gray light. He got up, washed his face, and went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

When Ding Jiaying went downstairs, she saw the person she had been thinking about the previous night humming a little song and preparing breakfast for herself in a relaxed manner. Her heart was suddenly filled with tenderness. She couldn't help but blame herself for having wild thoughts all night and falling asleep without a blanket.

"Ah!"

She sneezed and successfully stopped the smile on Shen Cong's face.

"What's wrong? Did you catch a cold?" Shen Cong put down what he was holding and walked over.

Ding Jiaying stammered, "It's nothing, it's nothing, I just kicked off the quilt while sleeping."

Shen Cong knew that apart from liking to cling to people when she slept, she definitely didn't have the bad habit of kicking off the quilt, so his eyes became less bright.

Stuttering and coughing to cover up her gaffe, Ding Jiaying found a good way to change the subject: "How did you spend your birthday?"

The air froze for a moment. Shen Cong put one hand on her forehead to test the temperature and raised his eyelids: "Do you want to go out and play?"

There are so many ways to understand this game.

Shen Cong answered the question with a rhetorical question. There are so many possibilities. If you are not careful, you will fall into the trap.

Is he talking about the secret gift he got for his birthday? How to play? How to play? Is it exciting?

Ding Jiaying hoped that she was just being too sensitive and not that he had seen through her thoughts.

"What do you think?"

As if he was surprised that Ding Jiaying had become smart for once, Shen Cong raised his eyebrows and said, "Whatever you say, I'll do it. I have no objection. But I have a request."

"What's your request?" Ding Jiaying pretended to be calm. She was afraid of being exposed. Are you not allowed to do tricks? Not allowed to dance?

If that's the case, what's the point of playing?

All my hard training has gone to waste.

Shen Cong was relieved when he confirmed that Ding Jiaying did not have a fever. He felt pity for her when he saw the green in her eyes. "It can only be the two of us."

"Hey, that's it. Definitely."

Ding Jiaying breathed a sigh of relief and smiled brightly.

Shen Cong laughed along and brought a bowl of fresh wontons in chicken soup from the kitchen.

After calming down, Ding Jiaying felt that all the trouble she had last night was in vain. Suddenly, her stomach felt empty and her appetite started to grow.

"Really delicious."

"Don't worry, I also made mushroom and shrimp dumplings." Shen Cong really liked watching her eat. There was a lively atmosphere, laughter, and real love.

Ding Jiaying had already seen the little bit of cornstarch left on his hands, and he boiled the soup and rolled out the dough to wrap it. It takes a lot of effort to make these little things, not to mention they are really delicious.

What time did he get up? She remembered that when she fell asleep, the door of the study didn't even ring.

Eating the delicious food in the bowl, with Shen Cong's smiling face beside her behind the mist, Ding Jiaying felt as if her whole heart was immersed in warm water, extremely comfortable.

She didn't want to think or compare.