no way

Mr. Feng was always carried upstairs by Yan Jianghe.The old man was really tired, he guessed that he was sticking to the wall of the hospital and caused trouble, and when he touched the scene, he was full of emotion, so he was even more tired.When Yan Jianghe carried him upstairs, he didn't even move his eyelids.

Zhang Cong led the way.There was no light in the corridor, so Zhang Cong took Yan Jianghe's mobile phone to illuminate it.Yan Jianghe originally thought that the old man's disease was a few cracked bones, not much serious, but who would have imagined that these few stairs could make him tired out of hysteria.

He is like a cow, step by step with hard work, branding filial piety on the stairs.

Yan Jianghe twitched his lips, thinking he was playing tricks on the old man.What kind of hospital did you get out of at night?What kind of place do you live in?Also, how can you be so oppressive even after being seriously ill?

On the sixth floor, Yan Jianghe turned the old man upside down carefully, and said, "Where's the key? Is it on the old man?"

Zhang Cong didn't make a sound, just took out his trouser pocket.He took out a bunch of keys, there were only two of them, and Zhang Cong used one of them to open the door of the old man's house.

It is not unusual for Zhang Cong to have the key to the old man's house.

Yan Jianghe turned his head and glanced at the opposite side before entering the door. The opposite door was Zhang Cong's own house.When they were downstairs, Zhang Cong stretched his neck to look around, but the lights in his house were not on—Zhang Hanma was not there.This made Zhang Cong feel more comfortable.

Yan Jianghe carried Mr. Feng into the bedroom, and Zhang Cong helped him to put him on the bed and lie down. During the whole process, Mr. Feng hummed twice, still unconscious, half asleep.

After getting old Feng settled down, Yan Jianghe left the house.Mr. Feng's room has one bedroom, one living room and one bathroom, with a small kitchen in the corner.It's small and shabby, but not dirty.Yan Jianghe hesitated for a moment, and reached out to touch the window sill. He rubbed his fingertips and looked down. There wasn't much floating dust.

Elder Feng has been in the hospital for some days, and apart from Zhang Cong who has the key to clean up the house, Yan Jiang couldn't think of any other possibility.

There is no sofa in the hall, which cannot be opened, just a table and two chairs.But there is a single bed placed against the wall, with mattresses on it, and even pillows and bedding are complete.Yan Jianghe pondered for a while, and judged that this should be prepared by the old man for Zhang Cong.

Yan Jianghe walked over and touched the head of the bed again, this time with ashes.

Yan Jianghe: "..."

It seems that Zhang Cong came to tidy up the house during the period when Mr. Feng was hospitalized, but he may not have tidied up the bed, or Zhang Cong was careless and ignored the head of the bed.

Yan Jianghe turned his head to look at Zhang Cong. Zhang Cong was carrying a kettle and pouring water into a cup.

Yan Jiang didn't know why he suddenly got caught up in some wicked nerve. He wanted to go into the room and touch the head of Feng Lao's bed—is there any dust on the head of Feng Lao's bed?

He was used to doing his own thing, so thinking about it, he entered the house.Old Feng was sleeping, his breathing was fluctuating.Yan Jianghe just kept quiet and touched the head of the bed quietly - there was no ashes.

Yan Jianghe let out a breath between his teeth, feeling quite miraculous.In this house with a big butt, the dust knows how to do whatever it wants.

He staggered out, trying to come up with a word to describe Zhang Cong in his head, after searching a few times, he finally chose "little bastard".

So, when Yan Jianghe came out and saw Zhang Cong, he said, "Little bastard, pour me a glass of water too."

"..." Zhang Cong frowned unhappily, and while taking out another cup, he said, "What are you doing in again? Close the door."

Yan Jianghe glanced at him, did not reply, and closed the door of Feng's old house.

Zhang Cong came over and handed the water to Yan Jianghe.The room is small, but it is so quiet that it feels empty.It was so quiet that Yanjiang He Jiaoren lost the smell of fire, and Zhang Cong didn't even say a word.

"Does your stomach still hurt? No, I have to take you for a gastroscopy." Yan Jianghe said while holding a cup.

Zhang Cong turned his head and glanced at him, dragged a chair and sat down slowly, then said after a pause, "It doesn't hurt, it's fine."

"Yeah." Yan Jianghe nodded, squinted his eyes to look at the opposite bed, and asked again, "Do you often come to the old man's place?"

Zhang Cong didn't raise his eyelids: "I don't come here often. Sometimes I have nowhere to go, and if the old man catches me, I will bring him in."

As for why my home is opposite but there is no place to go, this is too obvious.After all, Zhang Cong personally beat up his own father under Yan Jianghe's nose two days ago.

"Where did you go when the old man didn't catch you?" Yan Jianghe asked again.

Zhang Cong finally raised his head, he really just wanted to scold Yan Jianghe for talking nonsense.

He saw mist rising from the cup, blurring Yan Jianghe's drooping brows and eyes, making the tiredness in it even wider.Zhang Cong seemed to be able to hear the sound of Yan Jianghe drinking water slowly.

Zhang Cong said insincerely, "Game halls, Internet cafes and so on."

Yan Jianghe nodded, and his guess was almost the same: "Have you ever met an Internet cafe to check people?"

"Meet."

Yan Jianghe: "Then what should we do?"

Zhang Cong looked at him: "Run."

Where are you going?This is nothing to ask.

Yan Jianghe took out three boxes of medicine from his pocket and put them on the table: "There are instructions inside, so read it carefully. Eat more frequently these days and drink more hot water."

He added: "Still, just take another anti-inflammatory drug before going to bed tonight. There is no anti-inflammatory drug in the ones I gave you just now."

Zhang Cong wanted to grit his teeth, he stared at the pocket of Yan Jianghe's coat: "How deep is your pocket, how can it hold everything?"

"Huh?" Yan Jianghe looked at him, and suddenly smiled, "Yes, it's quite deep, and even an extra-small thermos can hold it."

Zhang Cong: "..."

Zhang Cong stood up slowly, stared at the three boxes of medicine with his hands on the table, and replied dryly: "Oh."

Yan Jianghe looked at his watch: "Are you going to sleep here tonight?"

"Well." Zhang Cong said, "You go first."

Yan Jianghe: "The old man has my phone, call me if you have something to do. I don't turn off the phone at night."

He specifically pointed to the bed next to the wall: "Wipe the head of the bed before going to bed, or your head will be dusted."

"..." Zhang Cong closed his eyes and said in a deep voice, "Hurry up and go."

Yan Jianghe yawned. He was a little tired, so he rubbed his face again and said to Zhang Cong, "Is there anything to refresh me? I'm still driving. I don't know why I'm so sleepy today."

"Wash your face with cold water." Zhang Cong glanced at the bathroom.

Yan Jianghe nodded, turned around and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.He came out with cold water beads hanging on his face: "The effect is just average."

Yan Jianghe came over and took a tissue from the table to wipe his face. Zhang Cong looked over and could clearly see the red blood in his eyes.

Zhang Cong suddenly became irritable and said, "Give you a cigarette?"

Yan Jianghe was stunned, and threw the used tissue into the trash can: "No need."

He looked at Zhang Cong, perhaps because of the cold water pouring out his illness, and saw Yan Jianghe suddenly bent his eyes: "Why don't you give me some candy."

"Ah?" Zhang Cong was stunned this time.

"Candy." Yan Jianghe said, "Lollipops, don't you always eat them, do you have them?"

Zhang Cong knew Yan Jianghe's convulsions a long time ago, but now he just felt that he was convulsed.While stretching his eyelids, Zhang Cong subconsciously took out his trouser pocket, and actually touched a lemon-flavored lollipop.

Before Zhang Cong handed it out, Yan Jianghe grabbed it.He tore off the wrapper and stuffed the lollipop into his mouth.

Zhang Cong looked at his empty hand, remembering that Yan Jianghe had ridiculed him, so he followed suit and mocked, "Didn't you say it's all pigment? Are you afraid that your tongue will turn a colorful yellow now?"

Yan Jianghe pressed his tongue against the lollipop, realizing that he had teased Zhang Cong about eating candy.He has always bullied people with his power, now he is tired and lacks momentum, so he is not aggressive at all.He patted Zhang Cong's shoulder, puffed up one cheek, and said in a way that was too gentle: "Hey, remember what I say in the future."

Zhang Cong: "..."

After Yan Jianghe finished speaking, he left Feng's hometown.

Zhang Cong should have been turned into Uncle Fengmo by Yan Jianghe's indifferent shot, and he didn't know whether he wanted to overturn the table or kick the door.Anyway, no matter what he wants to do, he has insufficient internal energy to cause harm.

When did it start, facing Yan Jianghe, he was not even ready to fight back symbolically?

Zhang Cong lost his energy.Whether he wants to admit it or not, he has really confessed to Yan Jianghe.Swords, guns, swords and halberds have eighteen kinds of martial arts, he is bright and dark, soft and hard, and he can't compete with Yan Jianghe.It's okay to be defeated, but now, even the thought of resistance has slipped away.

this is too scary.

Zhang Cong stood for a long time, went to the bathroom and took out a gray rag with white stripes, and rubbed it against the head of his bed.

Yan Jianghe didn't go downstairs immediately, his phone was on, and he stood at the door of Feng's home for a while.

Yan Jianghe stared at the entrance of the corridor, the light was too poor, but he somehow felt that the pattern looked familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before.Yan Jianghe couldn't remember it, but when he saw the cabbage in the box at his feet, he suddenly thought of it.

A Chinese cabbage was drawn in Zhang Cong's sketchbook.Among those paintings, Yan Jianghe remembers the red rose most clearly.That's the only warm color.At that time, the rose was painted in the corner of the broken staircase, which was in great contrast to itself.

Yan Jianghe took a look, isn't it the corner of the stairs under his nose now?But there are only broken goods around here, where are the roses?

Oh yes.It is Zhang Cong's red rose.

Yan Jianghe let out a breath, wrapped his clothes tightly and went downstairs.When he went out, he realized that it was snowing.There is a lot of snow in the north in winter, but there are some days when it does not fall.The recent snowfall was the first time he saw Zhang Cong.

Yan Jianghe patted the broken snow on his shoulder, feeling a sigh of relief.At that time, his definition of Zhang Cong was a rebellious boy with no brains, but now it is completely different.

Zhang Cong is an extremely complicated boy.It's so complicated that I can't explain it clearly in a few words, and it's not good to generalize.He is a bastard at the level of ashes, and his mind is so deep that it is difficult to measure. He finally scraped to find some temperature of a living person, but he burned the firecracker with a swipe, and his fur was bald.

Yan Jianghe got into the car with a lollipop in his mouth. While waiting for the car to warm up, he fumbled for the bank card that Mr. Feng gave him in his pocket.He also thought that the first time he saw Zhang Cong also had a lollipop.

How deep is his pocket?

Yan Jianghe clicked his tongue, and immediately got annoyed with a headache, he was like a hornet's nest.

Yan Jianghe looked up, and then spat in his heart. He scolded this undeveloped undeveloped building in all directions, then drove out of the car and went back to sleep.