A letter from a strange man

Jing Ling didn't expect to receive Zhang Hui's WeChat message when he was planning to call a taxi.

It was still raining lightly when he came in the morning, he held an umbrella and slowly climbed the slope, holding Jinghong's favorite perfume lily in his arms.

In his memory, their mother and son lived a poor life, but every year and festival, Jing Hong would always buy three perfume lilies back. She said one was for Jing Ling, one was for herself, and the other was for her. They didn't say anything, and Jing Ling sensiblely didn't ask, but they all knew it well.

Sitting in front of the tombstone, he wiped Jing Hong's photo over and over again with a handkerchief.

The photo of Jing Hong on the tombstone is of her at the age of 20, her eyebrows and eyes are like ink paintings, gentle and delicate, and she is so beautiful.

The rain was still falling, so he put his umbrella on the tombstone and let the rain soak his hair.

He rested his head on the tombstone and stared at his mother's face like he was leaning on Jing Hong's arms when he was a child, and said a lot of words in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

"Did you know Mom, I met him again, and he finally remembered me."

"He's still the same, even better."

"I really want to bring him to see you, but unfortunately we don't know each other that well yet."

"Mom, my illness is much better. I will live seriously and hard. After all, we are almost becoming friends. I want him to see me healthy, not depressed and confused."

……

Zhang Hui drove for nearly an hour. He drove very fast the whole time and almost ran a red light. He felt that he was a little impatient and a little different from his usual self.

When meeting Jing Ling, he always seems to be impulsive, and Zhang Hui has almost gotten used to this fact.

When he arrived, Jing Ling was waiting quietly by the side of the road. He was wearing a black shirt, which made his skin fairer and his hair blacker.

He thought, he finally knew why he had seen him countless times and didn't remember his appearance.

Jing Ling's appearance is the kind that is very attractive. At first glance, you may not remember his appearance. His face is unobtrusive and delicate, and there is a cool temperament between his eyebrows and eyes, but if you look at it a lot, you will find it charm.

Jing Ling was looking at the phone and didn't look at him, until Zhang Hui stood in front of him, and he raised his head in panic.

Zhang Hui looked at the undried hair and the umbrella in his hand, and laughed unconsciously: "Why are you so stupid, you got yourself wet even though you brought an umbrella."

Jing Ling was a little embarrassed: "I gave the umbrella to my mother for a while."

Zhang Hui sighed, knowing that this little fool came to pay homage to his mother, he patted the top of his wet head and said, "Let's go, since everyone is here, I'll go pay homage to auntie too."

Zhang Hui bought a bouquet of calla lilies at the place where they were sold at the foot of the mountain. He stood in front of Jing Hong and bowed deeply, and then placed the bouquet next to the lily brought by Jing Ling. The two bouquets hugged each other. .

Zhang Hui carefully looked at Jing Hong's photo and couldn't help feeling: "Your mother is very beautiful, you are very similar."

Jing Ling felt her face was a little hot, and she twitched her fingers a little "hmm" awkwardly.

Zhang Hui saw something that looked like a painting rolled up again, and he asked Jing Ling, "Is this a painting?"

Jing Ling said "hmm" again.

"Did you draw it?" Zhang Hui only knew that Jingling was good at taking pictures, but he didn't know that he could also draw.

Jing Ling opened the rolled up paintings, and he unfolded them in front of their eyes. There were several portraits of the same woman in different scenes. He suddenly heard Jing Ling say:

"I didn't have a father, and I didn't even know about that person until after my mother died."

"He would send a painting to his mother every year. These things were sent in these years after his mother died."

Zhang Hui was curious: "He didn't know that Lingtang had..."

Jing Ling's expression was a bit sad, and Zhang Hui heard him say in a calm tone, "Probably I don't know."

He was silent suddenly, and Zhang Hui looked at him quietly while waiting for his next confession.

"Actually, I think that he is just obsessed with the love he had when he was young. The paintings he sent are all the appearance of his mother in his memory. In the following years, his mother is no longer the appearance in his paintings."

Zhang Hui felt that although Jing Ling's face didn't seem to have much emotional fluctuations, his soul, that little elf, was crying with depression and sorrow.

Zhang Hui sighed, and pulled him closer to his arms. He gently patted Jing Ling's back with his hand, and rubbed the dry and soft hair.

Zhang Hui gradually felt the moistness on his neck, Jing Ling's face was buried there, and he was crying silently.

Zhang Hui's heart gradually picked up with the moist clarity, he was infected by Jing Ling's sadness, he didn't know if he could attribute this emotion to distress, he whispered in his ear: " Cry, it won't hurt to cry."

Jing Ling fell asleep on the way back, and the dark circles under his eyes were obvious, probably because he didn't sleep well last night, and he was tired from crying, so he fell asleep within a short time after getting in the car.

On the way back, Zhang Hui drove the car very slowly. Jing Ling was dressed a little thinly today. The seat belt pressed his shirt, revealing his narrow and fair collarbone. .

After entering the urban area, Zhang Hui parked the car at a street corner where parking was possible, and he flattened Jing Ling's seat. He heard Jing Ling groan but did not wake up.

Zhang Hui's spinal cord suddenly felt a little numb. He brought the blanket from the back seat to cover Jing Ling, then sat back in the driver's cab and drank a big mouthful of water.

He deliberately diverted his attention, and stopped looking at Jing Ling who was in the passenger seat. He took out his mobile phone, sent and received a few emails, dealt with some work problems, and sent some recent arrangements to his assistant.

About an hour later, he heard a voice from the co-pilot, Jing Ling snorted and asked, "Where is the time?"

Zhang replied to him: "It's near SOHO, just passing by here and stopped here for a while, not too long."

Jing Ling was a little embarrassed and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Zhang Hui rubbed his hair with a little effort: "There is no delay." He glanced at his watch, "It's almost four o'clock, you haven't eaten at noon, I also suddenly feel a little hungry, let's go together Let's have some food."

He saw Jing Ling nodded her head forcefully, said "Mmm", and then her earlobe turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye.

They went to a Japanese restaurant, Zhang Hui knew that Jing Ling had been in Japan for many years, so he guessed that he would like Japanese food very much.

The two chose the tatami seats, and there was a table tightly between them. Zhang Hui looked at Jing Ling and looked down at the menu seriously.

Zhang Hui took the menu and looked at him jokingly, "Why are you so entangled?"

Jing Ling sat upright, with her hands on her thighs, her clean face was well-behaved, and she looked very well-behaved.

Jing Ling said frankly: "I don't really like Japanese food very much." Then she added: "I always feel like I can't get enough."

Zhang Hui smiled, "I'm so self-righteous, I thought you would like to eat it." Then he added: "Then let me tell you a secret quietly, I don't like to eat too much, and I don't feel full .”

There was a slight smile on Jing Ling's calm face, and the two looked at each other and smiled.

But since they were all here, the two of them still ordered a few favorite dishes, and then talked about something about work.

Zhang Hui probably told Jing Ling the main points of the meeting in the morning, and finally said: "Of course, most of this is our work. As for you, Xiao Jing, the most important thing is to give full play to your talent."

Jing Ling was a little embarrassed, he picked up the tea bowl and took a sip of matcha tea, then frowned and put down the tea bowl.

Zhang Hui was curious because he didn't know much about Japanese tea ceremony, so he asked, "Isn't it delicious?"

Jing Ling nodded, picked up the handkerchief and wiped her mouth: "Well, it's not authentic." After a pause, she added in a low voice: "It's not as delicious as mine." There was even a little show off in the voice, and the whole person suddenly very vivid.

Zhang Hui raised his eyebrows and looked at him, "I wonder if Zhang is lucky enough to drink Mr. Jing's tea?"

Jing Ling stared at him blankly, then lowered her eyes a little shyly, and said in a low voice, "Of course, if you don't mind, I'll order it for you some other day."

Zhang Hui drank the shochu in the glass, then raised the wine glass to Jing Ling: "Then we've made a deal."

On the way Zhang Hui sent Jing Ling home, Zhang Hui asked Jing Ling, "Where is your favorite food?"

Jing Ling said without hesitation: "Jiangsu cuisine."

Because I was born in Jiangnan, and my mother is from Jiangnan.

"Okay, let's eat Jiangsu and Zhejiang cuisine next time." Zhang Hui said.

The author has something to say

Ah, doesn’t your heartbeat start from feeling sorry for someone?