Mi Xia [Net King]

When the teenager was about to finish picking up the books on the modern American poetry genre on the bookshelf, this summer had come to the hottest time.

Hirano Bixiang is afraid of heat.In this kind of weather, she would water her newly planted roses at the coolest time in the morning, tend to those blooming roses and flowers, then pour herself a glass of iced soda water, and sit in the rocking chair Go to bed or flip through books or watch old movies and just lazily wander around the whole day.Even Pinzhen's part-time job time was moved to the cooler night for her.

Sometimes when he came back early from his workout, he passed through the gap outside the iron fence that was not covered by rose vines, and he still had time to see her sitting by the porch from a distance, with her long hair coiled up high with a wooden hairpin, holding a water bottle in her arms , talking to her rose with a smile on her face.

The brows are gentle, the smile is soft, and the warmth that is countless times more delicate than the breeze falls from the pupils of the eyes.

So he stood there, not moving for a long time, until she saw him, until she looked up and smiled at him.

It is really rare for him to meet such a girl, who is young but has wisdom unmatched by the world, who is silent but more easily grasps all insights, loves life but is alienated from the crowd, holds hope but stays behind.It's like a scene blooming in time, yellowed and old, and the books are turned page by page, but she is not old and undefeated from beginning to end.

No, he has lived for 16 years, and he met such a person.Or an accident of time and space.

It should be cherished so much, and I am too reluctant to be mistaken. When the image of this person is engraved deeper and deeper in my mind, as long as I think that this scene will disappear in my memory one day, I feel that I don’t know what to do.

When I woke up one morning, I opened the door and went downstairs, only to see that she had gotten up earlier, sitting in the living room with a calendar spread out on her lap, studying and drawing something seriously.

Hirano Bixiang's biological clock is always on time.She likes life to be stable and orderly, and doesn't like change.Even if I wake up earlier, I am willing to lie on the bed with my eyes open until the time I should get up. It is really strange that it is so early at this moment.

"What's wrong?" The boy was a little surprised.

Hirano Bixiang raised her head and looked at him. For a moment, he saw that her pupils were full of joy, the kind that was overflowing, and then saw her smile slightly, holding up the calendar with both hands: " Come, come and see."

A very ordinary calendar, with hand-painted flowers and plants printed on it, has always been her favorite.The number representing the date has a circle, a frame, and a wavy line. There are scattered words underneath, most of which are important business memos, and then a number is heavily surrounded by red pen.

The smile was very gentle: "Look, it's been more than the time since you first came here."

The young man stood there in a daze, and did not come back to his senses for a long time.

No one knows when he will be taken away.Time and space are so wonderful, and there are no rules at all.He didn't even remember how the power of time and space brought him and took him away when he was a child.

She counted the days, circled them on the calendar day by day, woke up early this morning, sat on the sofa and waited for him to push the door out, and then she could tell him with a joyful smile, how long he stayed in this time and space There is more time.

So Atobe Keigo twitched the corners of his mouth and raised a smile: "Yes, I'm so lucky."

He stood there in a daze, as if his whole body had been split in half, and his soul came out of his body. Looking at this body that was trying to keep calm but was helpless, it was completely cold from inside to outside.

Hirano Bixiang put the calendar back where it was, and happily went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

He sat where she sat, as if he felt happy, the joy that would overflow when he saw her still flooded every drop of blood in his veins, and even the corners of his lips could not help but curl up, but his brain was so cloudy that he couldn't help it. Can't figure it out.

Then, never realizing it so clearly, it seemed that he really split into two people.

I was very nervous, but couldn't fall asleep at night.

Close your eyes, there are too many things in your head.Thinking of the thistles in the wilderness of England when he was still young, thinking of the horror of the wind that was almost silent in the silent night when he was kidnapped when he returned home, thinking of the quiet and gentle smile of the girl he had forgotten, thinking that maybe he will forget it soon... …sleep will never come again.

He saw the thick bruises under his eyes in the mirror. He was silent for a long time, his lips curled up, and the corners of his eyes slightly turned outward, showing a lazy and ironic sneer. It looks like an oil painting with thick ink and heavy colors, and every stroke is black and blood red with arrogance and publicity.

Then, the moment he heard the movement outside the door, he restrained all his character.

It seemed that an invisible and intangible force was desperately squeezing his space, making him breathless, making his blood seem to flow backwards, arousing an almost uncontrollable rage.The inexplicable anxiety prevented him from concentrating on his thoughts at all. He should have waited calmly. He was grateful for the gift of fate and for the unexpected meeting, but it was so beautiful, everything was so beautiful.

It's just...beautiful.Only then will I feel unwilling.

Reading books, playing chess, listening to music, watching old movies, planting flowers, cleaning the house, trying to make myself fit into the pace of her life... But the harsh sound of cicadas can't be calmed down, no matter how hard it is.

The young man sat in front of the porch, where Hirano Bixiang always liked to sit, looking at the roses in the garden.

At the hottest time in the afternoon, the heat wave travels on the skin, the sweat seeps out of the pores, twists and turns, and wets the hair and clothes.

When she heard the movement, she turned to look, and by the French window that had just been opened, Hirano Bixiang tilted her head, looking over worriedly.A skylark, probably suffering from the sun, stopped in the shadow under the eaves, blew twice, and tilted its head to look over.

He blinked slowly.

Hirano Bixiang pursed her lips slightly, her pupils were still very gentle, her gaze was focused and gentle, a warmth that could not be dappled by the years.

"Go play tennis." She said softly, "Please...go play tennis."

Please...go play tennis.

tennis.

He was silent for a long time, his fingers trembled, and then the whole hand behind his back was so stiff that it almost convulsed.

They went to the tennis court together.

In the hall dedicated to members, there was a tennis machine and a chair, and she sat far away, watching him play.

Every blow has a shrill sound of wind piercing through the air, and it is tilted to the fullest, as heavy as if it hit the heart, and it can smash a large piece of blood and blood.She had never seen his expression so indifferent, the sharp edges and corners all over his body that could sting people's eyelids were unrestrained, as ferocious as the thorns of a rose, yet so gorgeous and bewitching that it made people tremble.

During the strenuous exercise, sweat drenched my hair, wet my back, and hit the smooth ground drop by drop.

So the trembling heart was like this, tightening and shrinking, dripping blood.

She slowly closed her eyes.

It was very late, the sound of tossing and running, the sound of the racket touching the ball, the sound of the ball hitting the ground hard, the sound of low and rapid breathing, and all the sounds, slowly stopped.

The gray mesh indoor sneakers stopped in view, and the boy with a white towel on his head looked down at her.

It was obviously him who was in a bad mood, but now he stood in front of her, wanted to laugh but forced himself to stop, took several deep breaths, and then asked her hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

"Not good." Hirano Bixiang, who was wearing a blue flower chiffon skirt, looked up at him, her voice was weak because of her weakness, "Hot."

The perennial slender and delicate face has no expression other than gentleness and calmness. The red flush seems to be steaming, and the facial features are wrinkled together, which is very cute. All the hair is gathered in the back, tied up high, and a few strands are scattered from the temples. Her hair was curled up from the sweat, and even her eyes were wet.

So it was hard to hold back anymore, the corners of his lips curled up into a smile, the whole atrium seemed to be penetrated by sunlight, and even a trace of haze could not stay.

"It's cooler in the corner," he said.

"There are no chairs over there."

"I'll help you move the chair over... Wipe it with a wet towel first," he smiled, "Why are you so afraid of the heat?"

Hirano Bixiang felt ashamed.Subconsciously, he looked away, feeling impolite again, so he sneaked another look.Little did he know that the slightest squint in his gaze made people feel childishly wronged.

After laughing for a long time, he slowly withdrew his smile and called softly, "Xiang."

"Yeah." She answered and raised her head.

"Don't be unhappy." Atobe Keigo said seriously.

"I...not." She raised her head blankly.The unhappy one, isn't he?

"Don't be unhappy." He repeated.

Hirano Bixiang blinked slowly.

"Don't be unhappy." He was very gentle and serious, repeating the third time.

She stared blankly at him, and for a moment, he almost thought she was going to cry, but he only saw her lower her head and asked in confusion, "It's me...what did I do wrong?"

"No," he didn't expect her to say that, he paused and said quickly, "You didn't."

"But if you are unhappy, I will also be unhappy." She pursed her lips, "Why are you unhappy? I... can't figure it out. I worked very hard to make you happy, but, you Even with a smile, I feel that you are unhappy...Sometimes, I even feel that you are angry with me...but I don't quite understand. "

"So... Mr. Jingwu, can you, tell me?"

He was stunned for a long time, and slowly squatted down in front of her, and now he looked up at her.

With purple-gray hair, dark blue pupils, and a gorgeous tear mole in the corner of the eye, the young man's appearance is extremely handsome.

How close he is to what she imagined, that's how the Ice Emperor's emperor she saw in the stands that year should have looked like this.

"Xiang." He called again.

He asked, "What did you see Keigo Atobe like?"

Slowing down, he went on to say: "What is Keigo Atobe that you know?"

silence.A silence that held its breath.No one could speak.

Atobe Keigo looked at her, and said softly, "Xiang, I'm angry with myself."

"Because I don't know how to maintain this balance."

"The me you see...Xiang, this is not what I should look like."