Continuously

The morning light danced on Yao Jianqi's eyelids, as if someone was playing with his eyelashes again.

Yao Jianqi woke up hazily, but he was still unconscious. He vaguely thought that he was still on the mandarin duck bed in Anding Village, with a white gauze curtain floating in front of his eyebrows.

The fingers are loosened one by one, and there is an osmanthus flower inside, the edge has turned yellow, and a few drops of sweat are condensed like dew.

When walking back last time, Yao An stuffed it into his palm and said, "October is over, I left you a flower, come early next year, let's see it together."

He fell asleep after looking at it last night, but now he regretted it, what should he do if he broke it.

Even though I knew it was going to break sooner or later.

Yao Jianqi lifted the quilt, put the sweet-scented osmanthus on the desk by the window, ventilated, and placed a few mothballs for pressing.

He lives on the third floor of a western-style building, like a small attic, with a slanted roof and a dormer window across the sky, through which one can overlook a misty river, quiet and empty.

After watching for a while, there was a knock on the door, three ding dings.

Then there was the sound of footsteps leaving.

Yu Wan knew he would get up early, so she didn't stay up late.

Yao Jianqi walked to the cabinet barefoot, his toes turned white, and put on his clothes from the inside out. When he put on the last layer of turtleneck sweater, he paused, turned to the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and pulled off the collar.

He pressed his throat lightly.

Straight and narrow, without any ups and downs.

On the dinner plate are toasts brushed with jam, fried eggs, cured ham, and a glass of sweet milk. Yao Xinping, who is sitting obliquely to his right, has a bowl of noodle soup mixed with chili sauce. Only the floating fried eggs are from the same handwriting as his. .

Yao Xinping is a cook who knows how to cook, and he basically takes care of the stove. It's just because the two of them are often busy outside, and the frequency is not much.

Fortunately, Yao Jianqi went to school, so it was not a problem to have a meal.

It's just that Yu Wan must prepare his breakfast for him.

It's been almost half a year since returning to China, and she still feels that Yao Jianqi can't get used to the hot noodles in clear soup, fried dough sticks with soy milk, and she still remembers Yao Jianqi's clumsy handling of chopsticks when he ate at Grandma Yao's house for the first time.

Yu Wan didn't think about it, or didn't have time to think about what he should do at school if he was so thoughtful.

The jam was all in the belly, there were two bites of fried eggs and ham left, and half a cup of milk was still warm. It seemed that he had tried his best to absorb this considerate care.

But Yu Wan always felt that he just didn't even bother to refuse.

"Jian Qi, how did uncle send you to school today?" Yao Xinping asked after finishing his last sip of soup.

Yao Jianqi bowed his head as a nod, before he picked up the schoolbag, Yao Xinping picked it up first.

The car drove into the urban area from the riverside, and students wearing the same red and white school uniforms were scattered all over the street, and there were groups of three or five, cheering and chatting.

Although the distance to the school is not short, it is rare and easy. A route is repeated twice a day, and accumulated, I have long since recited it silently in my heart. Yao Jianqi prefers to go by himself, but Yao Xinping and Yu Wan are determined not to, Concerns about his safety, the availability of vehicles, and, well, a lyrical moment that could be exploited.

If counted.

"Jian Chi," Yao Xinping called him, "Mom had a cold and headache this morning, did you notice that?"

It was the tone of him being a child, wanting to get closer, between him and Yao Xinping, and between him and Yu Wan.

Yao Jianqi recalled for a while, it seemed that Yu Wan's complexion in the morning was indeed not very good, and he talked less, it seemed.

Seeing him frowning slightly, Yao Xinping smiled in relief and said, "I'll ask her when I get home this afternoon?"

Ok.

After a few seconds, Yao Jianqi realized that he hadn't said that word, and Yao Xinping was still waiting for him with his ear turned.

"it is good."

This time I said it, but it sounded like a sigh.

"Ugh."

For the first time, Yao An felt that this day was too fucking difficult.

After self-study in the morning, there was a figure wandering around the door of the classroom. Yao An took a closer look, and suddenly his left knee hurt.

He crushed and ate the chocolate in his mouth, licked his front teeth with his tongue, and reluctantly walked to the door frame.

"Is there anything else, Conic?"

Since the last duel, the two haven't seen each other for a while, so there is no reason and no need to ask.

Yu Yanzui stopped and looked at Yao An, with no enthusiasm on his face.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to compete with you for the boss." He said.

Yao An snorted, "Thank you."

Yu Yanzhui coughed, put his hands into his bulging trouser pockets, took them out, and spread them out.

Yao An's eyebrows moved.

Five sandbags, two on the left and three on the right.

Yu Yanzhui: "It was agreed last time."

"Okay, Cone." Yao An's expression changed, and he was not polite, he picked up one and weighed it, "Is it because you are so old and bored to do this?"

"I didn't do it all." Yu Yanzui stopped, and then said, "It's mainly my sister."

"Your sister? Who is it?" Yao An asked casually, but he didn't think about it at all. He scooped up all five small sandbags in his hand, squeezed them, they were quite soft, did not leak sand, and were just the right size.

Yu Yanchao stared at the sandbag for a while, then glanced into the classroom, and took a half step back.

"You know my sister."

"Huh?" Yao An was throwing the sandbag up and down.

"Your table, Yu Zhouyao."