Congenital deficiency

In May, City C rained continuously. The rain on the street almost merged into a stream, but the house was strangely dry.

In the middle of the simple and clean room, a young man curled up his slender limbs, his shoulders heaving up and down with difficulty.With one hand on his chest, he gripped his white shirt tightly, while the other hand on his knee tightly held a transparent glass medicine bottle with the words "Suxiao Jiuxin Pill" written on it.

His hands were clenched so tightly and with such force that the joints turned bloodless white, and the nails were deeply sunken into the flesh.

Even though he has woken up in this body for three months, he is still not very used to this body that does not belong to him, not to mention the heart disease that the other party has been carrying for 20 years and was taken over by him all at once. .

How long has it been raining in City C? He has palpitations, chest tightness, and can't breathe for a long time. Day after day, even at night, he can't sleep well, until his eyes are tormented by a layer of bruised eye circles.

It wasn't until the whole afternoon passed that the setting sun emerged amidst the blood-colored rosy clouds in the sky, taking away the last dark cloud and ending Hong Lingyu's day-long torment.

Feeling the suffocation in his chest gradually disappearing, the young man slowly turned his head to look in the direction of the window sill, pursed his lips slightly, there was no trace of blood on his cheeks, only a patch of paleness.

After the pain subsided, the stomach discomfort started again, and he really lost his appetite.He endured it for a few minutes, but in the end he was afraid that it would rain tomorrow and his body would not be able to bear it. He struggled and slowly stood up from the sofa, looked down at his thin legs that were as thin as bamboo poles under the loose home pants, and moved to the kitchen.

Some coarse grains of rice, some pork, chopped some vegetables, turned on the natural gas, and watched the flames go up to the side of the pot. He just stood against the stove, picked up a book on heart disease and read it.He read very slowly, but seriously, reading each word one by one.

There is a pen pinned to the back of the book, and he would occasionally take the pen down to scratch or tick the pages of the book.

Not long after, there was a sound of boiling from the pot beside him. Hong Lingyu reached out and turned down the fire, and simply sprinkled some seasoning into it.

Ten minutes later, the porridge was out of the pot. He took heat-insulating gloves, took the pot aside, turned around and took the bowl, filled a small bowl for himself, turned around and opened the refrigerator, and took out a salted duck egg from inside.

The egg whites of the salted duck, which cost one yuan and fifty cents each, were fat and fat. Hong Lingyu smashed one end of the egg by the side of the bowl, and poked open the egg shell with her fingertips so white that it was almost transparent, revealing the salty, white meat inside.He poked it in with his chopsticks, picked it up again, picked out the fat and oily duck egg yolk and threw it into the bowl, and threw the remaining egg white aside.

He buried his head in eating a few spoonfuls of porridge, then suddenly raised his head to look around, sniffed, took the remote control and pressed the TV on, turning up the volume a bit.

It was around five or six o'clock in the afternoon, and the local TV station was broadcasting some major local news, such as the number of visitors to scenic spots this year, what the new house purchase policy was, and finally Hongshi was suddenly mentioned.

As soon as the screen changed, it was cut from the female anchor to a scene similar to a corporate press conference.

"...Yes." The person in front of the camera is Hong's special assistant to the president, who is answering the reporter's question, "I believe many people have heard rumors that Hong Lingyu, the eldest son of Hong's family, is not the son of the president. Here I would like to explain to everyone that Hong Lingyu, the eldest son of the Hong family, is indeed not the parent and son of the president, but the president raised him up with his own hands, treating him just like his relatives. Everyone, don't discuss this matter too much, and sprinkle salt on other people's wounds. As for those unrealistic and absurd guesses, Xiao just wants to tell everyone that the ashes of the eldest son Hong Lingyu will be buried in the Hong family's ancestral grave soon. Today Let's go here." With that said, Xiao Zhengping bowed deeply to the ten cameras below, and left the press conference from the side of the stage under the protection of bodyguards.

The porcelain white spoon in the hand of the person at the table hit the glass tabletop with a thud, making a crisp sound.

But before he could clean up the porridge splashed on the table, the feeling of suffocation in his chest and throat had already swept over his whole body, he staggered and ran to the sofa, his knees hit the wooden floor with a "touch", and he unscrewed it with trembling hands. The bottle of Suxiao Jiuxin Pills was scattered all over the table, but he didn't care about anything else, he grabbed a few pills and stuffed them into his mouth, forcing himself to swallow them abruptly.

Dry pills scrape man sore throat.

After swallowing the medicine, he leaned forward slowly, stretched his arms forward, leaned his forehead on the arms, closed his eyes and waited for the heartbeat to calm down and the palpitations to disappear.

Behind the rapid and rhythmless panting, he seemed to hear a sneer coming from his throat in a trance: "Heh."

At the same dinner time, in the old house of the Hong Clan, Hong Zhuo, the patriarch of the Hong Clan, and Hong Xiaxuan, the future heir-to-be, were sitting opposite each other, eating quietly and slowly.

The rice rolls made by the chef on the table did not touch the chopsticks. Instead, the green vegetables that the father and son disliked the most were eaten first.

Hong Xiaxuan stared at the empty plate of soup baby dishes, swallowed a mouthful of rice without taste, and suddenly muttered: "Why is the rice so dry today?"

The chef stood aside, and when he heard this, a drop of cold sweat emerged from his forehead, but he didn't dare to wipe it off rashly, so he turned his gaze to Hongzhuo.After all, compared to the young master, the Patriarch is the one who directly decides whether he will stay or not.

The chopsticks in Hongzhuo's hand were about to be stretched out, but when he heard his son's muttering, he stopped suddenly, put down the chopsticks and pulled at the neckline.

Not to mention it's okay, when he heard his son complaining, he also felt that the rice was a little dry, and on this table, only a few dishes with soup had moved their chopsticks by themselves.

There were only ten dishes for two people on such a huge table, but he suddenly felt that something was missing.

If there is another pair of bowls and chopsticks on the table...

"...Tomorrow, let's make porridge." After Hong Zhuo finished speaking, he paused, his sharp eyebrows were gently pressed down, and he walked away from the dining table with his slender legs.

The cook wiped off his sweat, and before he could let go of his hanging heart, he suddenly saw the young master in front of the table looking at him thoughtfully, then gracefully put down his chopsticks, and left the table expressionlessly .

Almost [-]% of that mature and precocious appearance was imprinted from Hong Zhuo's face, and the cook was shocked when he saw it, and he had the illusion that he would lose his job tomorrow.

Fortunately, Hong Xiaxuan's words before leaving dispelled his illusion.

"Tomorrow I'm going to eat pork and vegetable porridge, which tastes lighter."

After Hong Xiaxuan finished speaking, he stepped on the stairs, followed Cai Hongzhuo's departure, went up to the second floor, knocked on the door of the half-closed study room, and heard a "hmm" from inside, then opened the door and went in.

Behind the large desk, Hong Zhuo was dealing with a thick stack of documents sent by the special assistant after the press conference.He was staring at one of them, and he was a little dazed, but when he heard the knock on the door, he stopped his attention, his face was a little cold, and he looked down at the densely packed words on the document.

"I'll bring my brother back." The 15-year-old Xia Mingxuan has inherited many of his parents' advantages. Although his eyes follow his mother's, the shape of his nose and mouth are very similar to Hong Zhuo's. The person's aura is instantly cold, making it difficult for people to approach.

Hong Zhuo didn't know what he was thinking, so he squeezed the document with a little force, making a slight crease there, but he didn't answer Hong Xiaxuan's words immediately.

Until the corners of Hong Xiaxuan's lowered mouth became more and more condensed, he blurted out: "My brother died for my father, so my father should take a look at my brother. It would be too chilling if I didn't take a last look at my brother."

These words were like an invisible needle piercing Hongzhuo's fingertips, his fingers trembled slightly, and he almost couldn't hold the document.

Rubbing the forehead that was also throbbing, Hong Zhuo raised his head to look at Hong Xiaxuan who had just returned to China three months ago, his brows furrowed slightly, his thin lips moved, but in the end he only said, "You go first."

Hong Xiaxuan hadn't seen his father for many years, and he hadn't finished his studies yet. This time he returned home in a hurry after hearing the news of Hong Lingyu's death.He and Hong Lingyu have always had a good relationship, and they learned a lot when they returned to China this time, and they haven't given Hong Zhuo a good look at his father for many days.

Hearing Hongzhuo's refusal, Hong Xiaxuan felt a nameless anger welling up in his heart. All the awe and fear of this father in the past was thrown to Java Island, and the corner of his mouth twitched: "Yes, you can bring people back If you only block bullets for yourself, how can you be afraid of chilling the dead."

These words were so embarrassing, Hongzhuo's face turned completely dark in an instant, his eyes were as deep as night pools, and he slapped the table with his broad palm so hard that the computer screen on it jumped violently. It fell on the blanketed ground, flickering at first, then black.

Then he roared like a lion trapped an animal: "Get out!"

If in the past when Hong Lingyu was still there, Hong Zhuo was upset when he met him, Hong Xiaxuan must have turned around and rushed to his brother's room without saying a word, and pulled him over to help him comfort his father.

But now the person who foolishly rushed in front of him and was beaten by his mother and scolded by his father for him was gone.

The person who can use the most clumsy way to coax himself to eat candy and comfort himself has become a speck of dust, a wisp of dust.

This feeling of losing his brother was still unreal when he suddenly heard the bad news three months ago; he was still a little confused when he watched Hong Lingyu's cremation two and a half months ago; When I didn't see the familiar figure, I was still ignorant and unable to touch it.

In the end, after he learned the truth two months ago and tried to provoke Hongzhuo continuously for two months, it seemed that this feeling had gradually come to the ground.

At this moment, in front of him was Hong Zhuo who was furious, but behind him was quiet, no one rushed over immediately.Such a strange feeling hit his mind like a morning bell.

Hong Xiaxuan turned his head and glanced at the empty back, the great loss and sense of loss swept over his whole body without warning.His eyes suddenly turned red, and the tears dripped hot on the collar of his shirt.

No matter how powerful he is in the younger generation all these years, he is just an ordinary boy who needs an older brother in this family.

Hong Xiaxuan wiped away his tears, endured the soreness, his sharp eyes looked at Hongzhuo twice fixedly like a lion cub through the wet tears, and turned away without saying a word.

When he reached the door, he paused, suddenly squeezed the doorknob, exerted all his strength, and slammed it hard.