Stop taking medicine, eat candy

Fu Huai's treatment notes:

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Symptom name: communication disorder

Disease number: AX

World number: 11

Main symptoms: Lu Yan finds it difficult to communicate with others.

Hazard class: II

Treatment: talking, hugging, writing love poems to him.

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Lu Yan has a secret.

five o'clock.

He was sitting in front of the window on time, and the deep purple curtains were drawn down, revealing only a narrow slit.Lu Yan cautiously looked out from the middle, and the originally empty street was gradually filled with people's voices, and the night turned into the trajectory of the night hemisphere with the chill, waiting for another fall.

six o'clock.

The sky gradually became white.As the clock ticked away, the joy in Lu Yan's heart became more and more intense, his heart was pounding in his chest, and there were bursts of uncontrollable throbbing.

06: 30.

Lu Yan covered his chest and opened the curtain a little more.

Six fifty.

People who bought early were yawning and queuing up.

seven o 'clock.

The first ray of sunlight finally crawled across the iron-grey steel-frame gray building opposite, and leaked into Lu Yan's window. He blinked, and a tear flowed from the corner of his eye.

Five past seven.

He heard his own heartbeat, anticipating and sweet.

Seven fifteen.

Under Lu Yan's steadfast gaze, a tall and straight figure walked towards him, passed through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, passed his downstairs, and then disappeared around the corner of the street without noticing.

Lu Yan exhaled slowly, closed the curtains completely, threw himself onto the bed, and rolled around twice like a hamster under the blanket.He bit the corner of his mouth, hammered his head twice in annoyance, messed up his soft and fluffy short hair, dragged his slippers out of bed, and bit his pen holder to the desk to start writing in his diary.

[He is also very handsome today.The white shirt and jeans matched his figure well... He really looks good in anything.

The sun is shining today, the wind is good, and everything is fine.

He smiled once today, facing a girl who accidentally stepped on him, he smiled beautifully, brighter than the sun today.

I'm so jealous of that girl, he never smiled at me...

I decided to be mad for a day.

If tomorrow is still sunny, I will forgive him.

If it is not sunny, I will forgive him if he comes with an umbrella. 】

Lu Yan considered his words for a while, and finally added another sentence.

【Or you can wear a raincoat...】

He carefully closed the diary, and placed it under his pillow with great care.

Yes, this is Lu Yan's secret.

He fell in love with a man who walked downstairs from him every day. He didn't know his name, didn't know his age, and didn't know what he was doing.

But he knows he likes him.

When the doorbell rang, Lu Yan suddenly woke up, and moved to the door vigilantly to look outside.

"Who?" His voice was small.

"takeout."

"Put it at the door."

"Ok."

After seeing the delivery man walking away from the cat's eyes and repeatedly confirming that there was no one at the door, he opened the door a crack, and quickly slipped in the takeaway like a thief.

Yes, Lu Yan has another secret that he thinks cannot be compared with the first one... that is, he has a communication barrier with people. To be precise, he is afraid of going out, afraid of the sun, and afraid of all human beings outside. It is an embarrassing and painful thing for him to communicate with even the most familiar people.

He still remembers that when he was young, his mother repeatedly forced him to talk to the waiters in the restaurant. At that time, he felt that he would rather pick up a knife beside him and cut off his tongue. He felt that the pain was not the same as talking to people with his tongue. up and down.

He sometimes hates himself for not being born dumb, so that he can justly face other people's greetings without saying a word. For this reason, he once plucked up the courage to lick the iron railing on a winter morning, but maybe Because the southern winters are so warm that his damn tongue is still intact.

However, when he one day realized that being a mute didn't mean he could completely avoid such conversations (they even had sign language!), he adopted the method of refusing to go out all the time to ensure that he and other human beings were separated into eternal life. Two halves that don't communicate.

If Lu Yan was born 100 years ago, he might starve to death because he lived alone, but fortunately, it is modern.They have Alipay, Taobao and Meituan Waimai.

For Lu Yan, food delivery is the greatest invention in human history, second only to optical cable communication.

This prevents him from becoming a representative figure in the third-rate news app reports such as "Shock! The 20-year-old guy died of starvation at home at midnight because... [link] [picture of a man in a strange posture and fell to the ground vomiting blood] [link]".Similarly, the rise of the Internet allows him to easily get jobs online without having to go out to make money ordering takeaways, earn more money, and order more takeaways.

In fact, the lengthy background above is not the point in our story. What is really important is that Lu Yan fell in love with a man who passed by his downstairs every day.

In his daily boring life, the window beside his bed is the only way for him to really communicate with the outside world, not through the Internet but through real physical contact.

In addition to the necessary time sitting at the computer desk, he spent a long time sitting at the window and opened the curtain to peek at the people outside.His room is on the fourth floor, which is a suitable height. Here, he will not be afraid of the bustling and noisy crowd because he is too close, and he will not lose his good view of observing the crowd because he is too far away.

That's how he saw the man.

Except for weekends, men pass by his downstairs twice a day, between 25:[-] am and [-]:[-] am, and between [-]:[-] pm and [-]:[-] pm.

Many people pass by Lu Yan's downstairs every day, but that man is different from them.

He wrote him diaries and love poems for a whole year, and in one of them he wrote this.

【My window comes and goes

more people just passing by

but you walked into my heart

lost the key

put on the shackles

sunny tomorrow

I'll see you again]

Ahhh!God!Why am I so talented!

After he finished writing, he buried his face in the quilt and thought while snickering.

I really like him ahhh!

Tomorrow is a special day. It was the day Lu Yan first met a man last year, and it was also the day they met for a year.

He has been preparing for this for a long time.

There is a grand plan in his heart, and he premeditates the most perfect confession, telling that person his love for him.That day happened to be Qixi Festival, which was more like a sweet accident.

He will hold a red rose in his arms, 365 days of diaries and 521 love poems and jump down from the window. Those red petals and pink love poems will flutter and fall in front of the window he has seen countless times, like a group of red The little pink dove, his body will be scattered all over the ground like broken rose petals, just in front of the man's eyes, dyeing the diary the red of rose, the red of love.

Wow, so romantic, he thought.

And it's so perfect, I don't even have to talk to him, he can understand my love for him!

The perfect plan will change. A late courier led Lu Yan to go out to buy flowers by himself. Just thinking about the word "going out" made his feet tingle, but thinking about tomorrow's confession, he automatically took it. He took off his mask, dressed himself like an unknown masked killer in the middle ages, and then went out sneakily.

He is going to buy flowers.

Maybe it was because he came at just the right time, and the flower shop seemed to be empty.

"Excuse me, what kind of flowers do you want to buy?" A deep and soft male voice came from behind the flower stand, and then a familiar figure turned around.He is indeed familiar with this figure. Lu Yan has seen this figure countless times in front of the window. He once wrote a diary for the owner of this figure, more than 500 love poems...

Lu Yan's hand, which was struggling to pull up his mask, stopped immediately.

No matter how big the change is, it can't resist the teasing of fate.

His throat was dry, his tongue was bitter, his calves were shaking, and his eyes were rolling around in their sockets.

I just didn't dare to look at that person's face.

"We have many kinds of flowers here. There are lilies, daisies, carnations, lisianthus—"

"Rose." Lu Yan suddenly interrupted the man's introduction.

"What?" The man obviously couldn't hear because his voice was too small.

"Rose." Lu Yan felt that all the courage in his life was spent today. "Have it?"

"Ah, sorry." He heard the low, soft voice say. "There are no more roses."

"Oh." Lu Yan replied in a daze.

The man he liked told him that there were no more roses.

"Would you like to see anything else?"

"No..." Lu Yan took a step back.

He felt something slide down his face, he must not be crying.

"Actually, not only roses, but other flowers are also very beautiful."

"No." Lu Yan sniffed.All he wants is roses.

"Roses," he said again, like a rudimentary system's version of a fixed-word robot.

How would he confess without roses?

He's screwing everything up again, like every time he's ever talked to someone before.

"I'm sorry, are you broken in love?" The man seemed to come to his side.

Lu Yan cried even harder, and he shook his head.

"Is that a confession?"

Nod slightly.

"That must be a gentle and lovely girl."

A warm hand landed on top of Lu Yan's head.Gently stroke.

Lu Yan looked up at him with misty eyes.

"Boy." His voice was hoarse.

The man smiled slightly, "Okay, gentle and lovely boy."

When Lu Yan regained consciousness exhausted from crying, he stayed safely at his home with a large handful of pink baby's breath stuffed into his arms.

Clusters of small calyxes support layers of petals, a handful full of flowers, moistened by his tears, with a little unknown fragrance, maybe it is the fragrance of flowers in the flower shop, maybe It's the smell of that person.

"Liar!" Lu Yan looked at it for a long time, then suddenly cursed, threw the flowers on the bed, and turned over to find a vase in the cabinet.

Lu Yan's confession plan did not run aground because of an unexpected bouquet of flowers.

On the second day, he stood in front of the window as usual, holding the bunch of baby's breath, hesitating.

The man arrived as promised, when Lu Yan made up his mind to open the curtains and was about to jump down, the man suddenly looked up, saw Lu Yan standing in front of the window, and smiled at him.

It was over, the flowers in Lu Yan's arms fell all over the floor, and the most frightening thing was that the diary he had at hand dropped, and it floated in front of the man.

Lu Yan was ashamed to look at it, and drew the curtains with a swish.

It was the first time in a year that he didn't sit by the window at night waiting for the man to get off work.

But what was even more frightening was that at [-]:[-], Lu Yan's doorbell rang.

He heard the deep, soft male voice that he could never forget in his dreams saying, Hello, you dropped something.

"You can just squeeze in through the crack of the door." Not seeing a face gave Lu Yan confidence.

A thin piece of paper was stuffed in, it was his diary.

Lu Yan quickly picked it up, blushing.

"And something else."

"what?"

"Your flowers."

"..."

"Leave the door."

"Ah."

Leaning against the back of the door and waiting for the flush on his face to subside, Lu Yan carefully opened the door a crack when he heard that there was no movement outside, but was startled by the man sitting in front of the door.

"you you you you……"

"I'm a gift for you to buy flowers, the kind that can't be returned." The man said confidently,

The waiting time is always too long, but the time spent together is always fleeting.Even so, the time is long enough, long enough for Fu Huai to read Lu Yan's diary 7 times 8 times, remember his love poems verbatim, write more in response, and at every strange It's strange to send Lu Yan all kinds of flowers on famous and unknown festivals in ancient and modern China and abroad.

It was enough for Lu Yan to finally walk out of his window and room, and stand on the low and crowded platform on a sunny day, looking at Fu Huai below with a stretched smile.

"You jump down." Fu Huai said. "Don't be afraid."

"Will you hug me?"

"Yes, always will."

"I know."

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World No. 11, the treatment is complete.

The author has something to say: It's late today