Passionate to know

On Xiaocheng Mountain, the wind and rain are precarious, and the cold rain knocks on the tombstone.

An Zhi appeared in front of the tomb with Fan Ling, slightly taken aback.However, within a few months, the dilapidated tombstone has taken on a new look. The best stone is not afraid of the invasion of mountains and rains, and the name of the owner of the tomb is written vigorously and powerfully in seal script.

No need to think about it, it must have been done by Song Zhiyang.

An Zhi's heart groaned, as if a big hole had been torn open, and the mountain wind was pouring in desperately, making every nerve of him feel cold and tingling.

He squatted down, took out a small shovel, and slowly dug a small hole in front of the tombstone.He dug very lightly and slowly, as if afraid of disturbing the sleep of the underground people.When digging to hard places, he even used his nails to dig.

Half an hour later, he stretched out his hand to compare it, and felt that it was almost the same, so he carefully put the box containing Fanling in, as if he was on the workbench seriously.

Then he slowly buried it and filled it up, as if he was filling the gully in his heart.Probably no one could have imagined that such a well-known work of art would eventually be buried forever in this land that no one cares about.

"Mom," An Zhi sighed, endlessly sad, "I brought it back."

There was silence all around, only the sound of leaves rubbing against him.He raised his hand and rubbed his sore eyes, feeling sleepy.

But no matter how sleepy he was, he couldn't fall asleep.

Seven days have passed since that day.An Zhi locked herself at home for seven days, turned off her mobile phone, closed the doors and windows, and turned off all the lights. She didn't come out until the last drop of drinking water was gone.

Originally, he just wanted to have a good sleep. In the past 11 years, he has devoted himself to thinking about it, and every day is a heavy worry.He was already neurasthenic and slept very lightly. If he thought about something more, he would not be able to sleep well all night.After doing all this, he thought that he might have a good night's sleep this time, but after seven days, as long as he closes his eyes, there will be a mournful figure in front of him, clear to every strand of hair.

It was the last time he saw Song Zhiyang.

Whenever he was about to fall asleep, when he was in a daze, there seemed to be a voice whispering in his ear, like a hook in the deep sea, catching him out of the boundless drowsiness.

"Anzhi... happy birthday."

Even with a quilt covered and ears plugged, the sound is like a curse, everywhere.

"Song Zhiyang..." murmured a sigh, as if it would be dissipated in the wind in an instant, so light that it only lingered on the lips.

"I'm here."

Just like in a fairy tale, when you ask for something, you get an answer. A man appeared behind him without warning, wearing mountain dew and staring at him.

An Zhi suddenly felt a sense of destiny written by fate, as if Song Zhiyang had already become an imprint on himself, no matter where he went, it would not be indelible.

Song Zhiyang stepped forward, reaching out his hand to touch the bruises under An Zhi's eyes, after thinking about it, he withdrew his hand: "Did you sleep well?"

An Zhi looked at him and sighed: "Aren't you too?"

"Next... what are your plans?"

An Zhi turned her face away: "I will fax you the resignation letter."

Song Zhiyang felt the pain in his viscera as if being caught by a big claw, and said shyly: "Actually, you don't..." He wanted to persuade An Zhi not to leave, but the words stopped when he was on the verge of speaking. There is no way for An Zhi to go back.

In the end, he just said, "If you need me, I'm always here."

An Zhi felt like his heart was half soaked in hot water and half in the ice river. Looking at Song Zhiyang who was haggard in front of him, he had the urge to escape.

After thinking about it, An Zhi decided to change the subject: "I've decided to go it alone and leave City A in a few days."

Song Zhiyang's throat choked: "Aren't you going to come back?"

An Zhi was at a loss: "Who knows."

Song Zhiyang nodded, and tried his best to put on a smile that looked almost the same as before: "At least, give me a chance to say goodbye to you."

An Zhi looked back, his eyes met, and there seemed to be a thousand words that he couldn't say: "Okay."

.........

They finally chose an open-air restaurant in Linhe, with a few small dishes and a table full of beer.

This was the quietest meal they had together, probably because they didn't know what to say, and those warm pasts were brought up to add to the sadness at this moment, but they were speechless, and could only drink one cup after another.

When Song Zhiyang felt a little overwhelmed after drinking, An Zhi was already sitting on a chair with his head propped on one hand.

Song Zhiyang stopped him from pouring wine: "I can't drink any more."

An Zhi let go obediently, but smiled wryly with drunken eyes: "...This is also the last time you...stopped my drink..."

The knuckles of Song Zhiyang's hand holding the wine bottle turned white, and then his big palm covered An Zhi's hand: "Who said that?"

"…Um?"

"Anzhi, I never said I would give up on you."

An Zhi opened his drunken eyes first, then shook his head and faltered and said: "...impossible...we...impossible..."

"How is it impossible? An Zhi, that's just your self-shackle."

Song Zhiyang gently raised An Zhiwei's chin, "Everything in the past is over, why don't you let yourself go? Could it be that those past events are worth paying for your eternal freedom? Could it be that I just Isn't it worth letting go of your grudge?"

An Zhi's cheeks turned slightly red from the wine turned pale, and the end of his eyes was dizzy with unbearable pain. He frowned and closed his eyes, and said hoarsely, "...I...don't know."

Song Zhiyang looked at the face that was close in front of him, and looked at himself with those cool eyes with hazy water mist. He felt that the longing and suffering of these days were all erupted at the same time. He stretched out his hand, the slender Fingers slid across Anzhi's frowning brows, gently stroking the center of the brows bit by bit as if trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

Finally, he leaned over and imprinted on Anzhi's slightly parted lips. It was very simple and affectionate.

"An Zhi, I can wait for you to figure it out, don't make me wait too long."

After saying this, I heard a loud noise in the night sky, and then it lit up for a moment. It turned out that someone was setting off fireworks on the other side of the river.

Song Zhiyang looked at the fireworks, and felt that the more gorgeous things were, the more dangerous they were.

"The fireworks are so extreme, it seems that as long as there is it, everything will become very lively..."

An Zhi was so drunk that he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he still squinted his eyes and said something unconsciously.

Song Zhiyang heard this sentence very clearly.

"There is no extreme in the fireworks in the world. It is only because of the warmth of human feelings that the soul is ecstasy."

The fireworks stopped after a while, and the drinking people were about to disperse after all.

It's just the overlapping wine bottles on the table, but they still record the stories of lovers.