Yi Ren from afar

Ye Mingyuan saw the familiar street outside the car window, confirmed the location of the building, and told the driver: "Here we are, this is it."

Ye Mingyuan glanced at Han Yuze, not wanting to disturb his sleep, and pushed open the car door. Suddenly Han Yuze grabbed Ye Mingyuan's arm: "Leave me the contact information."

Ye Mingyuan turned his head, looked at the man who was determined to win, took out his mobile phone, asked the other party's mobile phone number, and dialed it.

Han Yuze took out his phone, saved the number, looked up at Ye Mingyuan and said, "Save my phone number, I will call you when I have time."

Ye Mingyuan put away his phone, promised, opened the door and got out of the car, walked a few steps, turned around to look at the open car door, said goodbye to Han Yuze who was still looking at him in the car, and went home without looking back. .

Han Yuze looked up and watched the sensor lights in the corridor flickering on and off. The lights on the third floor stopped abruptly. After a while, an incandescent light came on in a window, and a thin figure walked to the window and drew the curtains.

The curtains not only cut off the light, but also cut off familiar and unfamiliar people. It wasn't a strong sense of loss, but it hit his heart hard. Han Yuze closed the car door a little depressed.

Han Yuze adjusted his gloomy mood, sighed, and told the driver, "Drive home."

Ye Mingyuan looked at the vehicles disappearing into the night from the gap in the curtains, turned around and sat on the bed, took off his coat, and unbuttoned his shirt, feeling a little uncomfortable in his heart.

When hearing Han Yuze say that he likes flute players, Ye Mingyuan thought of Shen Qinghe. His mother used to love flute players, but after only five years, she abandoned flute players.

Promises made lightly may not be long-lasting, and the promised life is nothing more than a dream, a love that never leaves, and the truth of history is nothing more than a ridiculous joke.