Boss, let me be presumptuous for a while

He got out of the car, and went straight to the small study in the back garden on the first floor. It was quiet and remote enough to soothe his aching heart.

He went into the den, drew out the cigarette case, then drew a Cohiba spear from it, and lit it.

The light sprinkled on his noble and beautiful eyebrows little by little, adding a little bit of sadness.

He looked down at the piles of cigarette boxes on the table, at the cigarette butts in the ashtray one after another, and suddenly his chest felt so painful and stuffy.

In the past two years, he has survived like this.

If it weren't for the Cohiba spear, he would have died in the night, and he would never have survived to this day.

He lightly exhaled smoke rings, feeling extremely uncomfortable in his heart, softly yelling Fu Qing'an's name: "Qing'an, Qing'an, Qing'an..."

Suddenly there was a "bang" behind him, and it was the sound of a book falling to the ground.

Fu Yang frowned, and when he turned around, he saw an obese woman with ordinary facial features.

Visually, he is about 1.6 meters tall and weighs about 250 kilograms.

Fu Yang's expression turned cold instantly: "Who are you?"

The woman looked at Fu Qing'an and blinked innocently: "I'm your new neighbor, I broke into here accidentally."

Because she was too fat, her facial features were a little unclear, all of which were crowded together with fat, which looked very scary.

She looked at Fu Yang, the starlight in her eyes gradually dimmed.

Fu Yang looked at her trembling shoulders and frowned slightly: "Are you afraid of me?"

The woman nodded for a moment, then pointed cautiously in the direction of the door: "Then can I go out?"

Fu Yang looked into her eyes, and immediately saw the innocence, kindness, simplicity, and panic in her eyes.

He was slightly stunned, and suddenly saw Fu Qing'an's shadow on her body.

He exhaled two puffs of smoke lightly, and the smoke was lingering, covering his noble and beautiful eyebrows bit by bit.

He looked at the woman, with clear temptation and expectation between the lines: "You, are you Fu Qing'an?"

The woman gave a suspicious "ah" and tilted her head curiously: "Who is Fu Qing'an? My surname is Zhou, and my name is Ping An. Do I look alike to her?"

Hearing her hoarse and rough voice, Fu Yang woke up instantly.

He put out the cigarette butt, and said with a sigh in his tone, "I recognized the wrong person."

The woman smiled lightly: "Who is Fu Qing'an?"

Fu Yang's eyes were deep and dark: "My wife, she passed away two years ago."

The woman's hand gently tugged at her sleeve, she tilted her head, with a pure and innocent tone: "He died? How did he die?"

Fu Yang's hands clenched the table in an instant, he took a deep breath, and looked coldly at the fat and ordinary woman in front of him.

He didn't know why he felt kind and familiar with this fat woman, and this feeling prompted him to answer her words involuntarily.

His voice was hoarse: "Suicidal."

The woman pouted: "She committed suicide. She would rather commit suicide than stay with you. What else do you miss her? You should review yourself, shouldn't you?"

As she spoke, she raised her fat legs and walked out slowly.

After hearing the woman's words, Fu Yang's heart suddenly contracted, and he felt his whole body fall into the ice cellar.

He frantically tossed for two years, no, plus the previous four years, and the year when Fu Qing'an came back.