To my dear Mr. Meng

Mr. Meng just called me, and I was like a hound that heard the owner's call. I rushed to his side with a stride, and stopped after the standard beckoning.

As if he was taken aback, he took a step back and grabbed my arm: "Slow down."

The light from the street lamp was very unclear. I watched for a long time before the outline of Mr. Meng gradually became clear.His chin was still buried in the big scarf, and he blinked at me, the broken stars floating in his eyes.

I completely forgot that a few days ago I was struck by the person in front of me like a thunderclap, and now I just looked up and down, for fear that I might lose a hair.Suddenly, I smelled a bit of clean and astringent smell, and I approached Mr. Meng: "What's the smell on you?"

Mr. Meng was taken aback for a moment, then raised his arm subconsciously to smell it, and then suddenly realized: "Is it a bar? Spilled some on my scarf."

He grabbed the scarf, and I lowered my head to smell it, and there was a faint smell of alcohol.I asked: "Where did you go to play? Did they all go home? How long have you been waiting, is it cold?"

Mr. Meng pulled me upstairs: "Don't just stand there, go up and talk."

Before my mother left, the doors and windows were closed, and there was no wind in the room.I took off my coat, scarf and gloves and threw them on the sofa, turned on the heat, and half opened the window in the corner.Mr. Meng followed into the room, and I turned around to look, only to find that he was holding a cake box in his hand.

"Isn't the cake finished?" I asked.

Mr. Meng put the box on the coffee table casually: "This is for you."

I poured two cups of hot water and opened the box. Sure enough, there was only a neatly cut piece, which seemed to have been reserved in advance.My mother and I didn’t finish eating until 08:30, so I wouldn’t be hungry, but thinking that this was specially reserved for me by Mr. Meng, I was reluctant to throw it away, so I asked them how they played tonight while eating.

Mr. Meng said they went to a restaurant for dinner, and then closed the court as hosts to an uncle of hers who owned a nightclub.

"nightclub?"

My hairs stand on end.Guan Ting, that spoiled girl, really wouldn't go to any decent place.

Mr. Meng seemed to guess what was going on in my mind, and waved his hand: "I opened a private room for us, don't think about it."

This remark was a bit like 300 taels of silver here, I wanted to say it as a joke, but when I suddenly noticed his gaze, I bit my tongue and froze for a moment.

Mr. Meng leaned slightly, and sat on the single sofa to my left—he didn’t sit upright all the time.It was already hot in the room, he pushed up the sleeves of the sweater a little, his right hand rested casually on the armrest, facing the direction of my knee diagonally.The exposed half of the forearm is connected to the outer edge of the palm, all the way to the tip of the little finger stretched forward, the lines are so smooth that it seems to be done in one go.The sweater is black as ink, and the contrast makes the arms whiter, almost blending with the drawn muslin shawl spread on the armrest of the sofa, but the warm yellow light just eliminates the lack of blood color, the finger moves slightly, and the shadow of the light appears Chasing after him foolishly, cruising between his fingers delicately.

Because he was not facing me directly, his clear eyes were slightly turned to one side, showing a relaxed look.Although he didn't smile, every part of his face seemed ready to smile, his brows were completely stretched, and the shadow line on the side of the bridge of his nose was gentle, like a leaden kiss.

I suddenly felt parched, so I quickly picked up the glass and took a sip of water.The water was still a little hot, and it slid all the way down the throat, exploding a cluster of fireworks in the stomach.

I cleared my throat, pretending to be calm: "What do you see me doing?"

"I can't watch it yet?"

He answered as a matter of course, I choked and said fiercely: "See, I have to pay!"

Mr. Meng took out a ten-yuan note from his trouser pocket and pushed it in front of me.

"Zoo tickets?"

I was taken aback for a moment, and after thinking for a long time, I came to my senses and said angrily, "Meng Qiansheng! Don't talk about my nickname!"

Mr. Meng sat still, imitating He Miao's usual teasing tone: "Is the little badger angry?"

I jumped right over and punched him.

Except for being ignorant when I was a child, Mr. Meng gave way to me more or less during fights, and he didn't have the same knowledge as me.He tilted his head to hide for a while, but obediently asked me to press on the sofa. He moved his upper body, changed to a slightly less distorted posture, and lay reclined on the sofa.

"Are your parents coming back tonight?"

"My mom plays cards, and my dad went on a business trip a few days ago."

He smiled and said, "Then can I stay at your house tonight?"

My heart beat wildly: "Why?"

The smile on his face froze unconsciously, and he looked straight at me, as if he was caught by my question.

Indeed, it is already ten o'clock now, and it is only natural that he lives in my house.I knew I had said something wrong, and I was about to change my words, but before I could finish my words, he said, "I was just joking with you. It's ten o'clock, and I'm going home."

He pushed himself up and motioned for me to let him up.This was completely contrary to my original intention, and I quickly pressed him down: "That's not what I meant."

He looked at me puzzled.

I explained incoherently, even I didn't know what I was talking about, and Mr. Meng didn't seem to fully understand what I meant, but it was enough to let him know that I didn't mean to drive him away.

He called home, and I went into the bedroom to get a set of pajamas for him, and I took a quilt and a new pillow from the closet and piled them on the bed.Mr. Meng went to take a shower, and I curled up on the sofa, thinking about the true meaning of life.

Thinking that Mr. Meng will take off his clothes and lie on my bed later, the shame of dream come true makes it difficult for me to face it, maybe there is some kind of indescribable excitement hidden in it.I looked down at my open hand. The warm and slightly cool touch of Mr. Meng’s arm skin was still on it. I knew it was because my hand was too hot, and there was a thin layer of sweat on the back of my neck. It must be the heater. It's too hot.

The sound from the TV is exaggerated like an aesthetic product of another world, but I have to live with it, and I need these sounds to drown out the sound of steaming water in the bathroom at this moment.

The five senses were suddenly sharpened almost sharply.Downstairs, a middle-aged man and woman are scolding each other, each sentence must start with "you fuck", like a thunderous explosion, without any warning, it rang out suddenly, making people's scalp numb; the woman chattered like a storm, One wave after another, in the end it almost made people think that she was going to sing loudly in the next second.The intervals between scolding and panting are interspersed with clear dog barking. It must be the Jingbaer with the broken eye. He barks and bites everyone, but as long as people approach aggressively, he will run away whimpering. A brutal beast.In the depths of the night, there was the faint sound of wine bottles colliding, and the sour smell of alcohol suddenly floated in the nose. It was a thick, frothy, dark green aroma.

I grabbed the woolen scarf that Mr. Meng threw on the sofa, buried my face in it, and took a deep breath.

The smell in the soft wool fibers is like stars, one by one, suddenly appearing and disappearing all of a sudden.

"I'm done, you can go."

The moment the sound sounded, the scarf in my hand flew out as if fleeing for my life, crossed a cruel parabola, and finally hid weakly and bonelessly in the depression at the other end of the sofa.

The phrase "fuck" downstairs echoed in my heart for a long time.

Mr. Meng had a strange expression, as if he saw his pig speak: "What are you doing?"

"Hang up your clothes," I bowed my head to pick up the scarf, "I was shocked when I heard you come out."

"It's okay, I'll do it myself."

He took the scarf and coat and hung them on the hangers by the door.During this period, I peeped at his face again and again to confirm that he didn't see the clues, and finally secretly heaved a sigh of relief.

When I entered the bedroom, Mr. Meng had already made the bed.

I am used to sleeping in a big bed, so my mother chose a double bed for me.The two quilts are on each side, and the Chu River and the Han border are clearly separated in the middle.Mr. Meng was already lying down. Seeing that I was still not moving, he raised his head and said, "I have locked the door."

I nodded: "Oh."

"Come on, so I can turn off the lights."

I lifted the covers with an almost heroic mood, like a vampire forced back into his coffin by garlic.Seeing that I was lying down, Mr. Meng reached out and turned off the lamp beside the bed.

Darkness engulfed everything at once.In the warm and dry air, I smelled the smell of wine again, damp, dark green, ready to move.

"Did you drink a lot today?" I asked him.

"No, just a few glasses. What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I'll just ask."

He hummed and stopped talking.The room became quiet, the smell of alcohol finally gradually dissipated, and my heartbeat seemed to slowly return to normal.

After about a while, there was a movement on the other side of the bed, and Mr. Meng turned over and seemed to be facing me, which made me tilt my head unconsciously.

He called me softly.

I agreed: "Huh?"

Mr. Meng said, "Tell me happy birthday."

I didn't respond: "What?"

He repeated it again.

This time I confirmed that I heard correctly, but I was even more puzzled: "Didn't I say that at school today?"

"You used to accompany me on my birthday, and every year you were the first to tell me happy birthday. I have never had such a lively birthday, and I have never seen so many people wishing me happy birthday. I am very happy, but you I feel sorry for not being here." Mr. Meng sighed slightly, "My birthday is coming up soon, so I want you to finish it off."

These words seemed like a lot of cotton stuck in my throat, I couldn't help turning my head to look at him, only seeing a vague outline.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, "Happy birthday."

"Why do you have to apologize?" Mr. Meng's voice sounded very light, "You spent the first day of the new year with me."

I felt like he was about to tell me I had a heart attack, and the whole room echoed like a drumbeat: "Meng Qiansheng, your words are so nasty."

Mr. Meng asked seriously: "Really? Then I won't talk about it in the future."

I blurted out: "I didn't say that you are not allowed to say it!"

"You really believe it."

Mr. Meng laughed muffled, full of pride in the success of his scheme.

Wow, the little bastard.