Overwinter

Father Wen died on a quiet rainy night.

The news didn't reach Wen Yan's ears until that afternoon. Wen Yan was only silent for a while after hearing it, and then said slowly, "At least walk quietly."

The funeral was arranged by Ms. Yang and Wen Zhiyuan together, and it was very grand, saying that it was to let Wen's father go away with dignity.Almost all the dignitaries in Beijing who had a relationship with Wen's father were invited, even Song Zhuangtong received invitations, but Wen Yan did not.

After all, the two are also related, but in the end Wen Yan entered the funeral scene as a family member of the guests.Wen Zhiyuan has also joined the company to work now, and Wen's father has shown him many faces before, and now he is standing on the stage to give a speech, and many admiring eyes are cast - although Mr. Wen passed away, at least one person remained A son who can act as a countertop.

Discussions between Wen Yan and Song Zhuangtong continued.

"Boss Wen's son doesn't even look 30 years old?"

"What is 30 years old? He just graduated from college not long ago."

"Graduated from college? How do I remember that my son played with him at that time? My grandson is almost five years old. How could he be in his 20s?"

These words made the face of the person next to him change slightly. After looking around with his eyes, he lowered his voice and said, "The one you mentioned is the son of the original wife, right? This is not it."

The malicious gossip tone didn't make Wen Yan react, his eyes lightly fell on the black coffin.

The rain started on the night of Wen's father's death, and it continued continuously. It was very cold for several days. Fortunately, this morning, I caught Wen Yan and wrapped the scarf tightly. Song Zhuangtong gently held Wen Yan's cold hand. Hands, put his hands in his pockets to warm them.

Wen Yan looked intently at the people on the stage, and Song Zhuangtong remembered how much flesh he had grown when he first met him, and it had been tossed away during this time, looking thin and thin, obviously without any expression, but looking incomparable sad.

Song Zhuangtong's throat was sore, and his hand in his pocket scratched Wen Yan's palm.Wen Yan didn't speak, but turned to look at Song Zhuangtong.

Song Zhuangtong was probably the most calm person among the people who came to the funeral, he didn't even bother to pretend to be half sad, with an expression he didn't know very well with them, and he softened a little when he looked at Wen Yan.He squeezed Wen Yan's palm with the hand in his pocket, and asked in a low voice, "Is it cold? If it's cold, go early."

Wen Yan nodded obediently, and the two got up and walked out of the venue through the back door.Compared with the turbid air inside, the rain-watered air outside was mixed with a damp smell, and it smelled refreshing.

Zhang Yu didn't know when he noticed the two of them, and he followed up. When he met Song Zhuangtong outside the door, his expression was not very good.

Complaining about Wen Yan's words is hard to say, but Zhang Yu is still very angry at Wen Yan's behavior of mixing with this guy again, especially when he sees Wen Yan being held in Song Zhuangtong's arms silently, his heart is full of alarm bells .

Although Wen Yanming's mood is stable on the surface, he is definitely more fragile than usual now. If Song Zhuangtong takes advantage of the bullying, and climbs up the pole of his soft heart, and finally begs Bailai to reconcile, What can I do then?

"Where do you live today?"

Before Wen Yan could speak, Song Zhuangtong said flatly, "Song Jing is still waiting for us at home."

This can be regarded as an answer for Wen Yan. He looked at Zhang Yu and said, "I have a place to live, so you don't have to worry about me."

Zhang Yu glanced at Song Zhuangtong, cursed his mother in a low voice, and asked, "When are you going back? I'll see you off when the time comes."

Wen Yan thought about it for a while, and said, "It hasn't been decided yet, so don't trouble you to deliver it, it's wasting time by going back and forth."

"Let's go back next month." Song Zhuangtong interjected again, "Won't the cups we made a while ago be ready next month?"

The intimate discussion tone made Zhang Yu gritted his teeth and secretly got angry. He only realized later that Song Zhuangtong seemed to have been secretly poking for a reconciliation long ago.

Maybe the two have reconciled!

Thinking of this, Zhang Yu didn't look good, but because he didn't dare to talk to Wen Yan on the day of Wen's father's funeral, he had to let Song Zhuangtong take him away.

I don't know if there is some kind of head drop, as long as the mood fluctuates too much, Wen Yan will always be groggy and sick.

No one asked Wen Yan what he thought of his father's death, but he still had something to say.When he was half asleep and half awake during the fever, he flashed back to the days when he was very young and lived with his parents in his bizarre dreams.

A gentle mother, a majestic father, a beautiful small bungalow, a swing pushed in the air...

Maybe it was too long ago, some scenes became blurred and short-lived, constantly appearing and dissipating in his mind, Wen Yan didn't even have time to recognize their expressions, and when he reached out to grab them, there was only a hazy white mist left.

Wen Yan frowned tightly, his breathing was short of breath, his cheeks were flushed with heat, and he rubbed his hands against the bedsheets vigorously, moving non-stop as if he wanted to grab something, until Song Zhuangtong stuffed his hand into his, and then he was at peace down.

The feeling of being trapped in a nightmare was hard, the two blurry figures in front of Wen Yan kept running forward, and even turned their heads to wave at him, luring Wen Yan to follow, but it seemed like they would never be able to keep up.

The dream that is stuffy in my heart is constantly fighting against the only sobriety left in my mind, like being entangled by sea water that can't be grasped but can't be pushed away. Qi woke up.

The darkness occupied Wen Yan's field of vision, and his unfocused eyes stared futilely in the darkness for a long time before he came back to his senses.

Wen Yan wanted to raise his hand to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, but found that he was holding something warm, barely recognized it, and found that Song Zhuangtong was lying on the bedside and fell asleep.

Although the temperature in the room is not low, it is still December after all, and it is easy to catch a cold when lying on the bedside with clothes on. Wen Yan stretched out his hand and pulled Song Zhuangtong's hand towards him, and called him in a hoarse voice: "Song Zhuangtong, you Take off your clothes and go to bed."

After tossing for a while, Wen Yan finally woke him up. As soon as Song Zhuangtong woke up, he put his palm on Wen Yan's forehead, and whispered: "It's not so hot anymore, drink the medicine."

With that said, he got up to make the medicine prescribed by the doctor.

"I don't want to take medicine." Wen Yan refused in a low voice, "I don't want to take it."

Song Zhuangtong frowned and looked at him, his expression was not very good.

Wen Yan huddled under the blanket, and said pitifully, "I'm very cold now, can you come and sleep with me?"

Song Zhuangtong sighed helplessly. After all, principles could not compete with sensibility. After taking off his coat, he got into the bed where Wen Yan had been sleeping hot for a long time, wrapped his arms around Wen Yan's waist skillfully, and brought him into his arms. inside.

"Sick and coquettish, now you ask me to pick up stars for you, and I will go." Song Zhuangtong said.

Wen Yan pressed tightly against Song Zhuangtong's slightly cool body, and the two bodies that were leaning together quickly heated up, and the entire blanket was warm.

"Then I'm still very kind, I only made such a simple request."

After speaking, Wen Yan yawned a little.

Song Zhuangtong asked him: "Do you still want to sleep? You've been asleep all afternoon."

"I haven't slept well. I'm half asleep and half awake. I feel uncomfortable."

"Have you had a nightmare?"

Wen Yan was silent for a while, then replied, "I dreamed about my parents."

The hand holding her around her waist became tighter, Wen Yan greedily absorbed the sense of security brought by Song Zhuangtong, buried her head in his arms, and said in a muffled voice: "Actually, I'm not sad that he died, but I'm a little sad I lost the last of my family."

From now on he is truly alone.

Song Zhuangtong lightly pecked his forehead and said, "Nonsense, you still have a son."

Wen Yan chuckled twice, and sat contentedly rubbing against Song Zhuangtong's arms.

Without Wen Yan's affirmative answer, Song Zhuangtong was still a little uncertain, and he said again: "Don't just laugh, say yes."

Wen Yan snorted twice, covered his eyes with drooping eyes, and said softly, "Yes, yes, yes."

Song Zhuangtong was uncertain, and Wen Yan was even more uncertain.

He can't predict the future, but he has been hurt repeatedly, which has made him lose the courage to live in the present.

Then steal a little bit of warmth from Song Zhuangtong's arms for a short time, let's get through this winter first.