After the white moonlight cuts the black

The weather this year has been grotesque.

Perhaps the century-old extreme cold exhausted its energy during the New Year's Eve, and not long after the beginning of spring, the temperature has risen steadily, and the heavy fleece jacket and winter gloves have all come to an early curtain call.

In the rearview mirror, a small half of the sky is obliquely cut, which is a piece of dark blue glass.

Cleaner than the water waves in the depths of the ocean, the sky and the sea are always inseparable.

Meng Huaiming stepped on the brakes, and the car body rushed forward due to the sudden deceleration. The seat belt pulled him to prevent him from falling forward, and the sky outside the front glass had already darkened by a degree.

Meng Huaiming walked into the Dingyun Hotel, and the welcome staff asked him enthusiastically if he had made an appointment.

He didn't want to go round and round, and he couldn't determine Zhao Hao's specific room.

What he can believe now is the words of a person who only met once, and the business-like front desk.

And when he said Zhao Hao's name, the expression on the front desk changed slightly.

Even if that is fleeting, the effort is suppressed under professionalism.

This is a frustration where life and death are controlled by the applause of others. There are obviously better ways to deal with it, such as waiting for Jiang Hua to call out the monitoring or registration records, but that takes time.

The deep-sea glass-colored sky is covered with a layer of chocolate-like black, and the sticky texture cannot see through the light.

The moonless and starless night is approaching, and the pale doctor says—

The opponent will make a decision before nightfall.

Without any basis, it was like a roaring train smashing the so-called rationality to pieces.

Those self-proclaimed rules and models, use and anti-use, the track of the rational world is boiled into molten iron by hot emotions.

He was losing control, Meng Huaiming clearly felt this, and this experience was no stranger to him.

Just as he left Yan Hui's tomb, he put his hands on the steering wheel normally.

In early spring, the cemetery exudes the unique fragrance of plants, and the wind is so soft.

He speeded up methodically, indulging in the clear and delicious mountain wine.

... Forget the indifferent portrait of Yan Hui, and slowly think of the way he smiled softly.

The emotion spreading from the corners of the lips has a belonging in the bottom of the eyes, and the wet ground is like the heavy rain in the orchid pavilion.

He lingered for a long time, clinging to things that did not belong to him.

Walking skillfully in the gap between weights and measures, pretending to manipulate the skills of the world, but forgetting a very important rule.

It is the broken gold left behind by the waves of the years, wrapped in mud or dust and cannot be recognized.

People pack it in exquisite boxes, thinking that they can play with the real ones, play and replace them, but they don't know that its essence does not change.

Years of tossing and turning can't discredit this fact: sincerity can always convince something, and it can always defeat something.

After making a phone call at the front desk, he looked at Meng Huaiming with a complicated expression and said, "Please follow me."

So that feeling became more and more intense. After bumping into Meng Huaiming's limited volume, he still couldn't find a breakthrough.

But in fact, he knows where to seek release, like the most intimate behavior between lovers, exchanging kisses and liquids, getting close to each other in blending and melting.

He thought, the title of Yan Hui's novel is really sad.

And so soft.

With a cool breeze blowing on his face, full of spring, Meng Huaiming leaned on the driver's seat, feeling as comfortable as if he had experienced a dream.

The youth in the dream is no longer a pile of positive words, a vague silhouette towards the light.

Instead, on the backlit slope of the brilliant spring, I said a long-term confession.

He felt happy and satisfied when he heard it, let go of all control and obsession, and threw himself into this piece of tenderness that was doomed to crash.

"Sir, room 1712, go forward and don't turn around."

The hotel staff made a guiding gesture, Meng Huaiming nodded to her and thanked her softly.

The other party froze for a moment, turned and left in confusion.

Meng Huaiming walked through the hotel's exotic carpet, the texture was too solid, like the bones of time.

He stood in front of the door of 1712 and knocked three times.

It was still Zhao Hao who came to open the door.

He looked at Meng Huaiming strangely, as if he was an endangered species, and the smell of blood in the room suppressed the atmosphere to freezing point.

Meng Huaiming pushed him away, this time Zhao Hao didn't greet him with the door or fist.

There was stubble on his chin, and the overall improvement was not very good, but there was an inexplicable sense of relaxation.

It doesn't look like you might be facing a life-and-death struggle, but it's the comfort of shuffling the cards after playing mahjong.

And the disappointment of not winning at the end of a round.

It was not a loss after all, Zhao Hao left the hotel wearing hotel slippers, and the ambulance arrived not long after.

In fact, he didn't do anything to him, he just got into a fight with him, or in other words, beat Yan Hui unilaterally.

Violence is a factor hidden in his blood, he does not deny it.

But Yan Hui was also a capable person when he knocked himself out in the end.

Zhao Hao saw what should be pulled away and what should be followed, but he couldn't figure out what it was like.

I squatted downstairs and smoked a cigarette, and smelled a greasy sweet aroma. It was a mobile stall selling roasted sweet potatoes on the street.

He has always liked to eat the snacks sold at the stalls, which are cheap and satisfying, but later he ate less and the city was rectified, and he gradually forgot about its existence.

Zhao Hao bought three sweet potatoes to eat by the side of the road.

Not far from Dingyun Hotel, people coming and going cast strange glances at him.

He squatted for a while, feeling that he was not full, and when he wanted to go back to buy again, the stall had already disappeared.

Zhao Hao used a plastic bag to cover his skin, thinking why no one came to arrest him.

He felt that he didn't like Yan Hui very much.

Talking about whether you like it or not at this age, if you use a young person's words, it's stupid to bubbling.

He likes pretty faces, and has seen many pretty faces. He has a lot of temperaments, docile and well-behaved, delicate and petite, and he has enjoyed them all once.

There is nothing special about Yan Hui, whether it is his face or personality, or only when he is injected with emotion, that person will become special.

And the other ones are just Yunyun's facial makeup, in the vast world, it is impossible to find two people who are exactly the same, but they can make up similar faces.

There is no reason why anyone should.

Zhao Hao suddenly remembered the school belle he was after.

Yan Hui knew this passage, and Yan Hui, who was mentally unstable, listened to it, and held back for a long time before she laughed.

At that time, Yan Hui was sometimes sober and sometimes confused, and when he was unhappy, he would piss around the room—of course Zhao Hao thought he was pissing at first, but later Xu said it was something wrong, and Zhao Hao was surprised to know that there was such a madness There are so many types of illness and madness.

Zhao Hao's old lady had this problem, and he thought about showing it to Xu, but when he thought about what Xu was doing, he was afraid that it would become a more serious situation, so he gave up.

His old mother has been staring like this for more than ten years, and no matter how much he tries to cure him, it won't get any better.

Besides, Zhao Hao thinks that is very good, his mother always thinks about his lost younger brother, thinking about it for half his life, the dead can be brought back to life.

But even if Zhao Hao is rich and powerful in the future, he will never be able to find the abducted boy.

He took out his mother's wedding photo from under the sofa in his hometown. The teenage girl didn't have a smile on her face, she was just pressing down on the marrying person.

His grandma was quite proud to say how they actively contributed to this marriage.

Zhao Hao didn't understand anything at that time, and he believed it stupidly.

It was only later that I found out that his old mother was not voluntary from the beginning to the end. From putting on the red jacket to giving birth to several children, it was all the result of pressing and shoving.

The number of rural teachers in the village only increased when Zhao Hao grew up. In the previous generations, there were only a few who had finished junior high school, and his mother was one of them.

Seeing the scenery of the county town, but still stuck in a village, the reason is probably the muddle-headed marriage, the sudden husband, and the first night of the wedding that was rainy and dark.

The wind and rain are like darkness, this is Yan Hui's word.

Zhao Hao bit between his lips and teeth, feeling that the taste was very astringent.

Breathing out in patches, he asked Yan Hui what would happen if she told her mother's story now?

Yan Hui seemed very depressed, at this moment Zhao Hao felt that his illness was charming and real.

He asked, "Do you want to hear the truth?"

Zhao Hao couldn't stop laughing, how could I argue so much with the little lunatic?

Some people would persuade his mother to go away as soon as possible, some would encourage her to call the police, some would say that she was stuck in marriage and had to suffer on her own, and some would call her half-pushing and half-giving, a kind of scum without self-love.

Zhao Hao bit Yan Hui's wrist, bleeding from the bite, Yan Hui seemed to feel no pain, and touched his head like an animal.

They maintained a weird way of getting along, so Zhao Hao asked again: "Then what do you think?"

Yan Hui had to go back and forth to explain the logic clearly. He said that the deal was done, which was cruel, but it had already happened. At this time, any insults and slanders would just stand up and talk without pain in the back.

You can give her advice, give her methods and paths, but how to choose can only be left to her.

Because she has missed it for so long, she is unable to change and resist many things, and has chosen to compromise. Only her people can save her from this kind of life, not those strange speakers who are far away in the sky.

Zhao Hao smiled happily: "At that time, I pointed a knife at my bastard father, and said that I would not let me take my mother away, so I hacked him to death, and then hacked myself to death, and everyone died together."

I was also afraid that Yan Hui would not believe me, "The old bastard was too drunk at that time, and he wanted to smash us to death with a wine bottle. At that time, I was really courageous."

This is not a good way, but there is no such way as the right time, place and people.

This does not happen on a large scale, nor is it the only case. This kind of marriage is definitely not correct, but it does happen.

It takes a lot of time for education to change ideas, and Fadu will continue to tighten his yardstick. Such things will become less and less, and hopefully less and less.

And the abuse against her stood at a commanding height.

Just like Zhao Hao thought he stood on the commanding heights and saved Yan Hui.

But that was bragging rights.

There is a lot of suffering in this world, and there is nothing wrong with exposing it, but it is wrong to create terror.

Occasional events have the original law and self-discipline, and frequent events need to make suggestions for revision and correction, and those who can really make suggestions are definitely not those who spread such misfortune in people's lives.

In addition to telling everyone how hopeless and terrible the world is, if you do nothing, there will be unwarranted disasters. When a group must be resisted to save a group, this is a kind of manipulation and a purposeful direction.

When the map cannons are being attacked by groups, the hidden map cannons are also infiltrating invisibly.

"I don't understand."

Zhao Hao grabbed Yan Hui like he was grabbing a pillow. Yan Hui closed his eyes and fell asleep tiredly. Half an hour later, he was awakened by a nightmare and his spirit collapsed again.

Zhao Hao tied him up but didn't beat him.

At that moment, he was suddenly a little annoyed by the slap that was slapped to him before, but he felt annoyed for some reason.

The author has something to say: There is another chapter to be updated at zero point~