What should I do if the avatar is getting more and more cute?

In the hot summer and late at night, the ambulance was speeding through the traffic, honking its horn urgently, trying to race against black and white impermanence.

"It moved, his eyes moved!"

Before Zhou Qingluo raised his eyelids, a joyful young female voice slapped his eardrums.

He wanted to open his eyes, but his eyelids seemed to be held down by Hades.

Hearing the sound of an ambulance, Zhou Qingluo felt relieved.

He has a heart condition, and he is an old rival with Hades. This time he has a pk with Hades, and it seems that he is the one who wins again.

He was originally a well-known cartoonist, and occasionally drew some sand sculpture comics and wrote some sand sculpture jokes on the Internet. Unexpectedly, he became popular and became a successful man who is both a cartoonist and a well-known funny blogger.

A comic magazine did not dislike him for having a heart attack and let him go to work.

Zhou Qingluo didn't want to go at first, the comic copyright income and the traffic on Weibo have already allowed him to live comfortably for the rest of his life.

However, human beings are inherently cheap, and he wanted to experience the feeling of being beaten by the society with five insurances and one gold.

It's just that he didn't expect that there are not only five social insurances and one housing fund at work, but also overtime, and a strange boss who has no sense of humor and likes to make people change drafts.

So, when he was working overtime to write jokes and rush to draft, his heart felt uncomfortable, his eyes were darkened, and he fell unconscious.

Laughing to death, it turns out that going to work is terrible.

When he wakes up this time, he must slap the resignation report on the boss's face, and then imitate him by pointing his nose and cursing——

Change the manuscript yourself!I quit!Smelly!stupid!force!

Anyway, he had already earned the money for the heart replacement. Even if he couldn't replace the heart, the money would be enough for him to live his whole life.

Anyway, he didn't think about getting married. It's too comfortable for one person to feed the whole family without hunger.

As long as there is life, there is hope.

Zhou Qingluo was thinking wildly, increasing his willpower to survive, and the female voice next to his ear rang again: "He smiled, he laughed!"

Another male voice with a slightly deep voice teased: "This patient is quite humorous, and he can still laugh at this time."

At this moment, Zhou Qingluo's eyelids, which were held down by Hades, were lifted, and a beam of strong light shone into his pupils. His eyes were bright, and the chaotic and dark hell in his mind suddenly disappeared.

"People are fine for now."

As soon as the male voice finished speaking, Zhou Qingluo heard everyone around him feel relieved, and heaved a sigh of relief.

The atmosphere suddenly relaxed a lot, and the voice in my ear continued.

"The young people nowadays don't take care of their bodies and are allergic to alcohol, so they dare to drink like this."

"That's right, it's not good to live well."

Hearing the words "live well", Zhou Qingluo used all his desire to survive, and suddenly opened his eyes.

Live well, of course.

Opening eyes was only instinctive, and Zhou Qingluo's eyes were still blank.

He blinked, and his vision slowly became clear, only to realize that there were doctors in white coats around him.

Zhou Qingluo took a breath, "Thank you doctor."

The breath is too short, the word 'doctor' can only be conveyed by mouth.

A doctor breathed a sigh of relief, "Young man has a strong desire to survive."

Zhou Qingluo also twitched the corners of his mouth and smiled: "Thank you, I will give you a pennant later."

This time, Zhou Qingluo had the strength to say a few more words, but the word "Binqi" still had to be lip-synched.

Doctor: "Okay, don't thank you, save some strength, and you need to go to the hospital for treatment."

After being ill for so many years, Zhou Qingluo listened to the doctor the most. He closed his eyes and rested obediently. For the time being, he didn't think about who found out that he had almost died suddenly, and he kindly called 120 for him.

The roaring ambulance went unimpeded and arrived at the hospital in a short while.

As soon as the car stopped, a cold young male voice sounded: "He's not dead, then I'm leaving."

Zhou Qingluo trembled, the voice was gloomy, as if it came from a dark and decaying hell.

Could it be Brother Wuchang?

Then go, don't send.

Doctor: "Aren't you his friend? You..."

The cold voice was very impatient: "His family will come right away."

Zhou Qingluo understood that it was not impermanence, but a savior.

He opened his eyes and grabbed an arm with difficulty.

The man had cool skin and strong muscles.

Listening to this voice, it sounds like the most annoying coworker in the company, who usually pretends to be cold and only peacocks at the boss.

His surname is Song, and he was nicknamed Song Butter.

But it doesn't feel like it. Song Fart must not have such a strong forearm.

The man had already turned his face away and was about to leave. Zhou Qingluo vaguely saw his protruding Adam's apple, and there was a tattoo next to his Adam's apple, which was particularly obvious on his cold white skin. It was so obvious that although his vision was blurred, he could still recognize it. It was a tattoo. Tattoos.

Zhou Qingluo thought to himself, when did Song Bojing be so rebellious that he dared to tattoo his neck artery.

Shouldn't the tattoo be the boss's name?

However, even though Fart Song is annoying, I still have to thank him for saving his life.

He said weakly: "Thank you."

But the man shook off his hand, mercilessly showing a little disgust.

Zhou Qingluo: "Xiao Song, treat you to dinner later."

The dying tone is particularly sincere.

Zhou Qingluo was carried out of the car, he turned his head and saw a man in a white shirt drifting away.

Zhou Qingluo wanted to invite Xiao Song to dinner even when Zhou Qingluo was confused. His name was Song Ling, the second son of Songjiabao Wood Group, a leading enterprise in Qingling City.

Song Ling came out of the hospital, took a taxi and reported his address.

The online car-hailing driver is probably a stockholder, and he listens to the financial channel with the radio on in the car.

The experts on the radio commented clearly, "Baomu Group's semi-annual report is full of good news. I am very optimistic about the performance of Baomu Group's stock in the second half of the year."

"That's right, under the leadership of Mr. Song Jinyi, Baomu Group has become more and more prosperous and has not disappointed the majority of shareholders."

"Mr. Song Jinyi was rated as an outstanding youth last year. It is estimated that he will be selected as a youth leader this year, which is great news."

The driver couldn't help complaining: "The nonsense these experts are talking about, Baomu Group is a fighter in the white horse stock market, everyone knows it, and he needs to analyze it?"

Song Ling raised his eyelids, stared at the car computer, and said sadly, "Turn it off."

Hearing this tone, the back of the driver's neck felt cold, he subconsciously stretched out his hand to rub it, and turned off the radio with a click.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, and saw that the boy in the back seat was only in his early 20s, about the same age as his son, staring at the mobile phone screen with a sullen face.

A world-weary expression that is an enemy of all human beings is his son's signature expression during his painful youth.

He didn't understand how such a young man could make such a cold voice.

Didn't he buy the shares of Baomu Group?

He couldn't bear it, so he said something to comfort him: "Young man, why are you unhappy?"

Song Ling stared at the phone screen without raising his eyelids.

"The 20-year-old boy is the best age. He is so young and should be happy."

Happy?

Song Ling's eyelids twitched, flipped through the pile of WeChat messages he was talking to himself, and smiled self-deprecatingly.

The last one was posted by him 10 minutes ago.

[Shi Yan, don't go abroad, okay?stay. 】

Jiang Shiyan didn't reply at all.

Song Ling gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Driver: "People of your generation are too delicate and sensitive. Like when we were 20 years old, our hearts were full of dreams and hopes."

Song Ling opened his eyes suddenly, and handed over a hundred-yuan bill.

Driver: "Not yet."

"I told you to shut up."

Just at a red light, the driver pulled the handbrake, turned around and wanted to teach this brat a lesson, no matter how big or small, he was rude.

At such a young age, he learned how to scare people with money?

He just wanted to speak, but all the words were stuck in his throat cowardly, and he didn't dare to say a single one.

The boy's eyes were too ruthless, like a villain in a movie who was about to strike ruthlessly, and the next moment he sealed the man's throat with a sword, killing people invisible.

There is also a tattoo on the main artery of the neck, with patterns and letters, which is very social.

More than 40 years of life experience told him that although this boy is young, he is definitely a blood-licking wolf cub.

The driver turned his head abruptly, swallowed all the words of the lesson, and waited silently for the red light.

Late at night, Song Ling sat in the small garden downstairs of Jiang Shiyan's house and called him.

"Shi Yan, I can get their school's curriculum materials and scientific research results materials, you..." Don't go abroad.

Jiang Shiyan was silent for a while, and blamed: "Song Ling! Hacking other people's websites and stealing other people's information is against the law!"

"I won't leave any traces, they won't be able to find out, really, don't leave, okay?"

Song Ling felt that he was humbled to the extreme, and he didn't care if Jiang Shiyan stayed.

"The research on kidney disease at that school in country M is at the top level in the world, and I managed to apply for a scholarship."

"But, you said you would stay with me all the time, you said you would follow me as soon as you graduate from university..."

Jiang Shiyan took a deep breath, "Song Ling, there is nothing between the two of us."

Song Ling pursed her lips tightly, and finally lowered her head that had been stalking.

A terrible silence ensued.

Jiang Shiyan felt that he had spoken harshly, so he comforted softly: "I want to cure your brother, and you can also relieve some pain, right?"

Song Ling hooked the corner of his mouth, "If he can't cure it, I deserve the pain, right?"

Jiang Shiyan was stopped by the question, and after a moment of silence, he sighed silently, "Song Ling, you know that's not what I meant."

Jiang Shiyan hung up the phone, and Song Ling sat on the bench, watching the lights in Jiang Shiyan's room dim.

He lowered his eyes, and the only light source in his heart went out, leaving only a dark and empty space.

At this time, all the street lights around the small garden were extinguished, and Song Ling fell into darkness. He opened his eyes, stared at the dark night, and suddenly laughed out loud.

Therefore, darkness is the original color of the world, and destruction is its belonging.

At this time, someone in the opposite building yelled: "Fuck! The power is out! I'm taking a shower!"

"Lao Tzu's documents are not saved!"

"I'm playing a rank promotion match!"

"I'm sleeping! It's so hot!"

There was chaos in the building, and the property management personnel responded quickly, and immediately came out with a loudspeaker to comfort them: "The air conditioner is turned on in summer, and the transformer is overcurrent and burned. It has already been repaired. Please stay safe, everyone."

Song Ling smiled coldly, as if all the fuss had nothing to do with him.

At this moment, the phone rang, and Song Ling's eyes lit up for a moment, then darkened again when he saw the caller.

At this time, he still expected Jiang Shiyan to turn around.

It was his friend who called.

Just as Song Ling picked up the phone, the other end had already started to growl: "You're not fucking going to look for Jiang Shiyan again, are you?"

Song Ling: "No."

The other end hated iron but said: "Oh, I'll go, hello, buddy, didn't I find you a boy who looks like that... Bah, did you meet a little boy who looks like Jiang Shiyan?"

The face of that person just now slowly appeared in Song Ling's mind.

The impostor who desperately wanted to lean on him.

He has delicate features, and looks a little like Jiang Shiyan.

But Jiang Shiyan's eyebrows and eyes were pure, but that man had a charming face, his purpose and desire were all written on his face, he thought he was a high-ranking green tea, but he was just a fool eager for quick success.

Even when she was in a coma, she didn't forget to hook him up.

You actually want to take advantage of your life-saving grace to treat him to dinner?

A scheming money worshiper, a stupid and self-righteous poor ghost.

If it weren't for Jiang Shiyan's three-point similarity, he would not pay attention to whether he was dead or alive.

"He knows you can't drink, so he will help you stop drinking tonight, until you almost die, and you're not moved? He's no better than that... Bah, Jiang Shiyan?"

Song Ling rubbed his temples, stood up, "I'm dead."

The chatter on the other end of the phone: "What's his name, oh, it seems to be Zhou Qingluo." He paused, and said firmly: "Yes, Zhou Qingluo."

As soon as the voice on the other end of the phone fell, the community called.

The building opposite was suddenly brightly lit, and the street lamps also lit up in unison.

It seems that this name comes with light.

The light at night is very soft, but also very strong, and the darkness that is trying to swallow everything quietly recedes into the distance.

Song Ling's eyes moved slightly, and he subconsciously repeated the name.

It's just a poor ghost who tried his best to get his attention. Is it worth such a big show?

The author has something to say:

Zhou Qingluo: Farewell, I don't deserve such a big show.

Song Ling cried hoarsely: Wife, love me, don't leave.