Marriage Alpha Breeding Guide

Song Mi is really cute, I especially like him.

Song Mi has never been a person who is good at words, so he concentrates on playing the role of Yan Qinghe's driver.

A sentence of "sorrow and change" seemed very pale, and it seemed too cruel to Yan Qinghe to ask about the cause of the car accident in detail. Looking at the eyes of Yan Qinghe sitting in the co-pilot and looking out the window, he felt a little bitter in his heart.

Something has to be said.His palms became wet, and he subconsciously began to pay attention to the receding street lights outside the car window.

one two Three……

The rhythmic counting made his heart beat steady again. He deliberated for a long time, and carefully squeezed out a bad line.

"It's a nice day today."

Yan Qinghe turned his head suddenly, his expression froze for a moment, his brows were furrowed, as if he didn't know how to deal with such a jerky greeting, although he understood Song Mi's wordless thoughtfulness, he couldn't help but smile helplessly.

"Song Mi, I'm not that fragile."

"It's been a long time since that incident." When he said this, his expression was empty, his eyes were not focused, and he just kept staring at the front, "I can already live a normal life, but when I think of them, I still..."

What will happen?

Yan Qinghe didn't go on, just opened the skylight and asked Song Mi if she minded smoking.

Song Mi stood downstairs and saw him smoking, so she was not surprised, she held a lighter towards him with one free hand.

Looking at the skillful appearance of the other party lighting the cigarette, Song Mi suddenly remembered that when she took Yan Qinghe out of the hospital, the doctor repeatedly reminded herself to pay attention to the other party's mental health.

Yan Qinghe is indeed too healthy, he has done everything a model couple should do, so that sometimes Song Mi will have the illusion that they got together because they like each other, not impulsive flash marriage, in order to save Yan Qinghe, whose family is ruined and killed. The last trace of face.

When Yan Qinghe exhaled the smoke, there was a trace of real fatigue, and this fleeting fragility made Song Mi's heart tighten.

"Cough, cough..." Yan Qinghe opened his mouth as if to say something, but was choked by the smoke.

Song Mi hurriedly leaned the car against the side of the road, unscrewed the bottle cap and handed the water to Yan Qinghe, watched the other party swallow slowly, patted the other party's back, and remembered the afternoon when they first met.

At that time, Yan Qinghe's back was still a little tight, but now his body under the suit seems to have regained his health.

"What are you doing?" Yan Qinghe asked after panting.

Song Mi hesitated for a while, then tentatively said, "...a back pat?"

Yan Qinghe couldn't help laughing in astonishment, and the last trace of melancholy disappeared from his face, he asked: "I'm not asking what you are doing now, before you said 'the weather is fine' just now, you were absent-minded and muttering something, is it what are you doing?"

Although she knew that the other party was only teasing in good faith, Song Mi still avoided her eyes, "I'm... counting."

"Count what?"

"Street lights."

"Why?" A hint of interest flashed across Yan Qinghe's wide-open eyes from surprise.

"Because numbers give me a sense of security." Song Mi drove the car back to the fast lane, carefully choosing words, "Numbers are very certain. Someone taught me before that when you are not emotionally stable, nervous or not When you are happy, you can try counting. You can count anything, leaves, clouds, birds, trees..."

"Song Mi." Yan Qinghe suddenly planned on him.

"Ah."

"What were you thinking before counting?"

Song Mi was silent for a long time this time, and the corner of his eye began to scan the streetlights outside the window again.

All the way without a word, the car stopped at the foot of the mountain, Song Mi asked Yan Qinghe to sit in the car for a while, he opened the car door and bought two bouquets of white chrysanthemums for Yan Qinghe.

He hesitated for a while: "I still...not going."

No matter whether Yan Qinghe wants to introduce himself to his parents or not, Song Mi will feel lost.

Yan Qinghe, who is proficient in flower art, did not dislike the crudely packaged white chrysanthemums. He also did not invite Song Mi to go with him. He just thanked him politely: "Call me later."

He walked quickly and steadily, and he looked like an ordinary person, as if he no longer needed a wheelchair and crutches.

Looking at the unattended crutches and wheelchairs in the trunk of the car, a trace of sympathetic loneliness flashed in Song Mi's heart, and soon he felt ashamed because of the thought of taking advantage of others' danger.

He watched Yan Qinghe's back disappear before re-entering the previous convenience store.

The owner of the convenience store was smoking a cigarette with his legs crossed, leaned in the rocking chair and watched the old CCTV, and asked him impatiently what he wanted to buy.

"A jug of wine, a bag of peanuts." Song Mi glanced past the same white chrysanthemums on the shelves, and finally saw the gardenias inserted in plastic bottles next to the TV, "Is this for sale?"

Summer is the time when gardenias are in full bloom, and the gardenias in the convenience store are already in full bloom, and they may have to be replaced tomorrow, so the sales are not very good.

"That's not for sale." The boss didn't pay much attention to him, thinking he was joking.

"One more pack of Yuxi." Song Mi took out a 50 yuan note and pressed it on the glass counter, "There's no need to look for it."

The boss touched and touched the collar of the portrait on the banknote, and handed over the flowers together with the plastic bottle: "You can take it if you want it, my wife planted it herself."

Song Mi took the things and walked towards the halfway up the mountain.

Song Mi didn't like hospitals, nor did she like cemeteries.

If you can't go to the hospital, you don't go. The illness depends on your physical fitness.

The cemetery is visited once every Qingming Festival, but the maintenance fee has never been forgotten.

He walked up to a certain tombstone, took apart the Yuxi that was his favorite in life, ordered two sticks and put them in front, sprinkled a handful of peanuts, poured a bottle of wine on the tombstone, and swallowed the last sip. Then put a bouquet of gardenias that are about to wither beside the empty wine bottle.

He said hoarsely, "Dad, I'll come and see you."

He opened his mouth casually to say hello, but didn't know how to continue.He doesn't remember much.His father died when he was seven years old, and the memory left to him is only a vague but firm outline except for the method of "counting".

No one will pick him up at the school gate anymore.

After half a month of shedding tears, the mother decided to continue to start a business, and worked hard with her father's share, keeping the little Song Mi by the old lady's side.

The father's face on the tombstone looked very young, the middle-aged man smiled heroically, looked at Song Mi through 20 years of stillness, and seemed to ask him how he was doing recently.

"Mom's words are still the same. The company is getting better and better. She doesn't mention you very much, but she always misses you." After her father passed away, her mother never remarried. She always said that anyone can turn the earth around, but always I will remember to add an empty bowl to the holiday table, which is reserved for my father.

My father likes gardenias, because when we first met, my mother had it pinned on her head.

"My mother-in-law is not very well. She fell down at the beginning of this year and has been staying in the hospital. My mother came back to take care of her for a while, and she just returned to the company a few days ago."

"As for me..." He hesitated for a while, took out the red booklet from his arms, unfolded it carefully, and showed it to the man on the tombstone, his tone softened, "Dad, I'm married."

"Not long ago, I got a license with the person I like," he said carefully, "I have liked him for a long time, since the freshman year of college."

Today is not a special day. There is no one around in the cemetery, and the straight stone road has been swept clean. Song Mi paused for a while before continuing: "I feel very happy."

"He's also here today. Although he didn't come with me, you can take a look at him from a distance. Something happened to his family, and he hasn't been doing well recently."

"But he is very good to me, really." Song Mi lit up all the cigarettes, guessed that the time was almost up, and stood up, "Dad, I hope you can bless my mother-in-law to recover soon, bless my mother to be happy, bless ..."

Song Mi has no wishes for himself, he will do what he wants, so he leaves his last wish to Yan Qinghe.

"Also bless him happy and healthy."

A few white chrysanthemum petals fell on the bluestone path in the cemetery, maybe someone came, Song Mi didn't care.