desensitization therapy

There are three magic weapons for chasing people: delivering breakfast (cross out), writing love letters (cross out), and sheltering the person in your heart from wind and rain (snow).

This is what Fang Zhilian unilaterally concluded through the book "How to Conquer a Handsome Boy".

Facts prove that what is written in the book is not necessarily correct, such as push and pull, otherwise why Fang Zhilian's WeChat sticky dialog box still stops at the "sent wrong" last week.

After leaving the last chubby heart signature on the letter paper, Fang Zhilian carefully folded the letter paper and stuffed it into a milky white envelope.

Including this letter, he has sent six love letters to Song Feijue in total, and there are still six days of breakfast.

Amen.Fang Zhilian got into bed and closed his eyes, and prayed unskillfully to some god on the ceiling, hoping that it would snow tomorrow.

In this way, he can shelter Song Feijue from the wind and snow.

Probably the half-hearted god who didn't know where to go heard Fang Zhilian's sincere prayer, but he was really powerless and barely fulfilled half of his wish.

There was a shower around four or five o'clock in the morning, and when Fang Zhilian opened his eyes in a daze, he was surprised that the room covered by the curtains was gloomy.

Accompanied by the rain, the temperature suddenly cooled down. Fang Zhilian wrapped himself up tightly, without exposing a single arm, staring at the dim ceiling in a daze.

I don't want to go to school, he thought with a wrinkled face, I'm too sleepy, too cold, and no one likes me at school. ?

However, Fang Zhilian got up in the end because he found that the weather forecast showed that there would be a heavy rain in the afternoon.

Every rain in Linchuan means that winter is getting closer.Before going out, Fang Zhilian deliberately took two umbrellas. As usual, Cheng Lei and Tang Jitong had already left the house. Only Tang Ting, who hadn't woken up yet, and Aunt Chang, who was making breakfast in the kitchen, were at home.

The road was slippery in rainy days, and the waiting time for the bus was prolonged. Fortunately, Fang Zhilian left the door early.When he entered the classroom through the back door with his breakfast kraft paper bag, which was not wet at all, there were only two or three people in the classroom.

Zhang Mingzhuo at the front table turned his head to watch him arrange the kraft paper bag and put it into Song Feijue's table hole, and said teasingly, "Primary school boy, are you here to deliver breakfast again?"

Fang Zhilian had a little impression of Song Feijue's front desk. The previous few times, he left after putting away the paper bags, and no one asked much.Only Zhang Mingzhuo kept asking questions over and over again.

"We are at the same level." Fang Zhilian didn't feel embarrassed, and folded the paper bag gracefully, "I helped bring it."

"Oh?" Zhang Mingzhuo didn't seem to believe it, so he put his whole upper body over and stretched out his head to pull Song Feijue's table hole, "Then let me see what you helped bring."

Fang Zhilian reacted a little slower, seeing Zhang Mingzhuo tear open the paper bag, and the plastic latte bottle inside rolled from the open seal to the chair, he subconsciously pressed the paper bag: "What are you doing?"

"Latte and bread?" Zhang Mingzhuo didn't seem to hear Fang Zhilian's emotional tone at all, and flicked the plastic bottle, "Song Feijue is lactose intolerant, you said he asked you to bring it?"

Fang Zhilian's finger holding the paper bag's seal froze, and he asked blankly, "Song Feijue...is he lactose intolerant?"

The dead leaves outside the window were slightly astringent, the air from the shower seeped in through the walls of the teaching building, and there was a smell of actinomycetes similar to the transpiration of a lake in the damp corridor.

There was a faint pain in the knee, which clearly showed the existence of the rainy day.

Every rainy day, Wen Peitang's old illness would relapse, and the old illness that had been accumulated for many years had not had time to heal, and new injuries were added.

Song Feijue doesn't like rainy days.

He shook off the transparent water droplets on the umbrella, opened the umbrella, and placed it on the clear ground in the corridor.

There was silence in the classroom, except for the occasional crackling sound of pages being turned.

Song Feijue came in from the front door, and when he passed Zhang Mingzhuo's desk, he looked down and saw the pair of earphones that should have been placed in the table hole. He walked around calmly and put his schoolbag on the desk.

"Lend me your set of "Comprehensive Classification of Zhenti"." Zhang Mingzhuo turned his head and unscrewed the bottle cap with one hand.

Zhang Mingzhuo drank half of the bottle in one breath, and when he raised his head again, he found that Song Feijue's eyes fell on the plastic bottle he was holding in his hand.

"Oh," Zhang Mingzhuo shook the half bottle of latte left, and one of the earphones he was wearing accidentally slipped off, "The seventh shift gave it to you in the morning, I think you never drink it, so give it to me. "

Song Feijue seemed not very interested in this question, and nodded: "Are the headphones you are wearing mine?"

"Yes, I just finished using it." Zhang Mingzhuo tore off the other one, handed it to Song Feijue and took another sip, "Do you want to use it?"

"No need." Song Feijue smiled slightly.

But he still took the earphones, slowly untied the tangled earphone wires, and put them back into the earphone box.

"Let me look for the set of real questions." Zhang Mingzhuo carelessly clamped the uncovered bottle of latte between his legs, and reached for Song Feijue's schoolbag, "I saw the additional questions given by Xiao Duan yesterday, and you That book..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhang Mingzhuo suddenly felt a pain in his chest, and a small hard box bounced onto his leg, splashing the unclamped bottle of coffee.

The coffee flowed down the crotch of Zhang Mingzhuo's school uniform, and the position was awkward, leaving a brown stain on the white school trousers.

"Enough is enough." Song Feijue's smile continued, he blinked slowly, and his eyelashes innocently cast a fan-shaped shadow.

"I gave it to you," he reminded in a very casual tone, meaning, "but next time it won't be just the earphone case."

Zhang Ming was stunned for a few seconds before he came back to his senses. Subconsciously, he thought Song Feijue was talking about earphones, and before he even had time to wipe his pants, he said angrily, "Are you sick?"

The roar that sounded out of nowhere was no less than a boulder thrown down on calm water, and many people followed the sound and looked over strangely.

Song Feijue's smile remained unchanged, as if Zhang Mingzhuo's roar was just a one-man show.He lowered his eyelashes and asked in a polite tone, "Do you need tissues?"

The heavy rain predicted in the weather forecast did not fall until the second class in the afternoon, and the sky became darker and darker without warning.

At noon, it was still a normal rainy day, with lead-colored dark clouds.By now, it was already as dark as the sky at seven or eight o'clock at night.

Before the get out of class bell rang, some students frequently looked out of the window and whispered a few words.Fang Zhi stared sleepily at the blurred and scattered words on the book, and heard Zhu Wen whispering to himself: "I haven't seen the sky so dark in the afternoon."

Duan Jiayu saw that they were not focused on their studies, and that get out of class was about to end, so he simply tapped on the blackboard: "If you want to see it, you can go and watch it, don't open the windows, pay attention to safety."

If other teachers said that, it might be ironic, but Duan Jiayu is different.As soon as the words fell, a group of students squeezed to the edge of the window sill.

"It's not really the end of the world, is it?" Although Zhu Wen didn't squeeze past, he took a look from a distance, quite worried.

"The black clouds are just passing by," You Li curled her lips, unscrewed the thermos, only to find that there was no water in it, and put it back again, "I'm really worried about your geography teacher."

Zhu Wen optimistically said: "Fortunately, I chose science."

Just when the bell rang for the end of get out of class, Zhu Wen had sharp eyes, and naturally snatched the thermos from You Li's hand, said "get water", and dragged Fang Zhilian outside.

"Wait a minute!" You Li was caught off guard and snatched the thermos, still a little dazed.

Naihe Zhuwen ran very fast, and before she could finish the second half of her sentence, she had already slipped out of the classroom.

Fang Zhilian had been out of his mind all day, and he didn't bring the cup. He followed Zhu Wen to the water room in a daze. Zhu Wen suddenly remembered something, and turned to him and asked him: "Does You Li usually have a drink in the afternoon?" Drink coffee?"

"I don't know." Fang Zhilian replied absent-mindedly.

Zhu Wen stuffed the thermos cup into his arms, said "I'll go back and get the coffee powder", and ran away in a hurry.

Fang Zhilian was holding the thermos cup, feeling bored, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, reciting "The Difficult Road to Shu" silently to divert his attention.

Across a thin wall, a familiar name quietly entered his ears like a gust of wind.

"Morning? I don't know why, why don't I just borrow his earphones, Song Feijue is sick, what a fucking mad dog..."

Another voice seemed to be admonishing the other party, and said a few words of comfort symbolically.

The person who scolded just now seemed to have gradually calmed down, and spat: "That means I don't care about him. Do you think it's great to have a father who is an official? How many women and illegitimate children does his father raise outside?" What about it?"

"Also," the voice didn't seem to have the intention to restrain the volume, "That little boy in class seven is gay at first glance."

Fang Zhilian who was mentioned opened his eyes, his palms were sticky.

"...The man delivers breakfast to the man, and he's ashamed to come every day. I'm ashamed of him," Zhang Mingzhuo sneered gloatingly, pressed the hot water button, and said nonsense, "Look at what Song Feijue is like, it's probably the same He's a homosexual. What's the use of his dad being so successful? When I'm in a bad mood, I find evidence and pass it to him, and when he kneels down and kowtows to me as grandpa, why not..."

Before he finished speaking, Zhang Mingzhuo's face was crooked, his figure staggered, and the hand holding the cup suddenly let go.The cup hit the ground with a bang, and rolled out a long way.

The hot water slowly flows to the water receiving box of the water dispenser, and the water vapor rises. No one cares about it, allowing the water receiving box to be full and overflowing continuously.

Those noisy voices were swallowed up by the rising white mist.

It was almost four o'clock when Cheng Lei drove to the school in the rainstorm. The sky was darker than before, and even the incandescent lights in the corridor were turned on.

She stepped on a pair of black high-heeled shoes, and her steps were not in a hurry, leaving a series of crisp echoes in the empty corridor.

The dean's office is in the middle of the third floor, near the stairs on the left. Cheng Lei stopped, took out a glasses cloth from her bag, wiped off the moisture on the glasses, and then put them on again.

At the end of the corridor, a tall and thin figure stood there, perhaps because of the backlight, his face appeared dim under the cast shadow.

Cheng Lei looked up for two seconds, then looked away without any trace, turned around and knocked on the office door.

Song Feijue stood not far away, behind him was a balcony, and under the balcony was a row of rust-colored heating pipes.When the heating starts in early December, this row of heating pipes will become very warm. Many students like to lean here and look out the window after class.

It's a pity that there is only a piece of ice and cold within reach now.

From this angle, Song Feijue could just see the back door of the office. The woman in the camel trench coat and black high-heeled shoes was standing beside Fang Zhilian.

Fang Zhilian lowered his face, couldn't see his expression clearly, and kept silent.Cheng Lei beside him had a calm attitude, her lips opened and closed, as if she was saying something.

The Cheng Lei in front of her eyes gradually overlapped with the woman in Song Feijue's impression, the only similarity was the calm, slightly squinted eyes under the pair of reflective lenses.

This is not the first time Song Feijue has seen Cheng Lei.

Different from now, Cheng Lei 11 years ago was wearing a black suit dress, her hair was loosely tied into a bun, and her eyes were wandering.She followed behind a professional lawyer who was really capable, like a newcomer who had just fledgling.

That was Song Feijue's first impression of Cheng Lei.

At that time, he was tightly held by Wen Peitang, who still had a small USB flash drive wrapped in Wen Peitang's hand. She never let go of Song Feijue's hand as if she was holding the only strength.

The sharp edges and corners of the U disk stuck on the back of the hand, which hurts a lot.Song Feijue looked at the lawyer sitting across from him, but didn't withdraw his hand.

I don't know if it's a coincidence, or Wen Peitang's bad luck, he happened to find a lawyer who met Song Yuming.

Wen Peitang's hands were shaking all the time, and Song Feijue could feel it.However, when he looked at Wen Peitang, Wen Peitang looked at the shocking bandage on his forehead, and stubbornly repeated that sentence.

"...I have evidence of his domestic violence, and I want a divorce. If you can't do it, I will consult another law firm."

The lawyer on the opposite side frowned imperceptibly, he said a few words of temporary comfort, then turned and closed the door.

Song Feijue tugged Wen Peitang's sleeve lightly. He wanted to say, go to another office, but he couldn't make any sound.

By the way, he remembered dully, the doctor seemed to have mentioned in the diagnosis that it was functional aphonia caused by mental stimulation.

Cheng Lei, who was identified as a newcomer lawyer on the opposite side, spoke first: "As a lawyer, I think you should protect yourself through divorce proceedings."

Wen Peitang was stunned.

In the words of the male lawyer just now, it was nothing more than a detour to advise her not to fight this lawsuit, and suddenly got approval, Wen Peitang asked softly: "Do you also think..."

"But as a mother," Cheng Lei interrupted her, "I don't suggest you divorce."

Song Feijue looked into the eyes under the reflective lenses, as if full of sincerity.

"I'm also a mother, and I understand your feelings very well, but have you thought about it? If you get divorced, according to your financial level, it is impossible for your child to be awarded to you." Cheng Lei pushed the frame of her glasses and glanced at Song Feijue asked calmly, "You escaped, but what about your child?"

Her eyes stayed on Song Feijue who couldn't speak, full of pity and sympathy.

Wen Peitang's hands trembled unreasonably, and the only strength she was holding turned into a heavy resistance under Cheng Lei's few words.

Song Feijue fixedly stared at the pair of raised eye ends hidden under the reflective lenses.

It seemed that Wen Peitang could not answer this question.

like now.

Song Feijue looked over through the glass window frame of the back door, Cheng Lei only showed half of her profile, although she was arguing for the worthless son next to her, she was still generous and decent, with the tails of her eyes slightly raised.

It was a winning smile.

The violent and brief torrential rain had stopped, and the sky slowly brightened again as the rain stopped.

Cheng Lei didn't notice that Fang Zhilian beside her seemed to be staring at the back door in a daze.

Looking at each other, Fang Zhilian looked a little at a loss, like a frightened puppy, with round and bright eyes wide open.

Song Feijue smiled, his brows and eyes stretched, like an unseasonably good weather.

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