Pastel Colours

Day0206:42

Thanks to He Zhiyuan’s late-night phone call, Songran didn’t sleep well all night, and got up the next morning with two huge dark circles on her face. I wiped it in the mirror for a long time and didn’t wipe it off, like eye shadows. .

Specifically, the main reason was that Dad He’s voice was too contagious, and Songran was stuck in the mood of “marriage proposal”. He finished the science fiction film in the first half of the night, and then played a romantic film in the second half of the night.

In the dream, the male **** Infiniti wore a black suit and wandered from the sea of ​​flowers with a bunch of fiery red roses. He knelt on one knee and took out a ring to propose to him. He promised idiotically, his nosebleeds spewed out and merged into a red river. Then, the suit was taken off, the waistcoat was taken off, the shirt was taken off, the **** were taken off... The two people took off their clothes and saw that you were naked. In the rain and the sky, they played a real sword with a real gun and every detail is indescribable. .

When I woke up in the morning and touched my pants, my whole body was broken.

Whatthefuck?

It's been only a few days, but the ethics reserve has fallen like this? ! What about reserved and face?

He turned his head to look at Bubu who was still asleep, and a thought flashed in his mind: near Zhu is red, near Mo is black. Xiao Bubu will not change to a more reliable father. When he grows up, he inherits his father’s career. He also has a sultry aura. Wherever he goes, peach blossoms are blooming in all directions, and a pure and harmless seedling will be destroyed. Up!

The innocent and harmless Hao Miao opened his eyes, and his pupils were shining.

"Good morning brother!"

Boob said hello.

Songran was so scared that he immediately responded: "Bo...Good morning Boob!"

"Brother, are you having a nightmare?" Haomiao leaned forward and looked at him intently. "I just woke up for a while and saw that my brother was very panting!"

"No!"

Songran resolutely denied it, and pressed his crotch tightly with one hand, and buried his face in the pillow gap in shame.

At 7:30, Bobu was washing in the bathroom, and Songran cooked a pot of steaming small ravioli in the kitchen, added a little egg flower and seaweed, and sprinkled a few green onions.

Bubu swallowed jujubes, gulped around for breakfast, and went to kindergarten on his old bicycle.

Songran's bicycle is a second-hand purchase of 200 yuan from a car repair shop. The original owner has children at home, so he brings a leather cushion in the back seat. Bubu sat on his head with a small schoolbag on his back and hugged Song Ran's waist, full of curiosity about this old-fashioned, slow transportation method.

The wheel is a bit rusty, and it makes a slight and rhythmic sound when rolling. Occasionally, it hits one or two small stones, and unexpectedly twists it twice. Bubu yelled "Yeah" and hugged Songran tighter. Up.

In the morning, the air is refreshing, the breeze is pleasant, and a large green platanus tree rustles above the head. A light rain fell in S city when dawn approached. The leaves were wet, and a few drops of water were sprinkled when they swayed, which wetted their clothes.

The city has not really become lively yet, the streets are sparsely crowded, a wild cat foraging is squatting on the fence of an old house on the roadside, and sanitation workers in blue uniforms are pushing a small car to sweep the street.

"Uncle, how are you!"

Boob waved to him happily.

Hearing the voice, the wild cat looked back vigilantly and jumped off the eaves of the wall, while the sanitation worker turned his head with the broomstick, and smiled and beckoned to Bobu.

The bicycle passed by a long graffiti wall painted with colorful geometric figures, English letters and Arabic numerals. Once upon a time, Bubu was sitting in his father's car, and he passed by in the blink of an eye. Today, sitting on the bicycle, he can see every detail of the graffiti clearly for the first time.

He pointed his finger at the wall and exclaimed in surprise: "Brother, look at it, there are so many paintings on the wall!"

There was a corner about to turn in front of him. Songran slowed down and told him: "Grab steady, don't let go."

The car slammed slightly along, and Boob yelled, retracted his little hand, and re-secured Songran's T-shirt.

The kindergarten on Bubu is located on Sinan Road and consists of several exquisite garden houses. It is about 15 minutes by bicycle from Bishuiwan. When they arrived, the benevolent grandma, the principal, was welcoming the children at the door.

Songran stopped the car, hugged Bobu, and led it to the head of the park hand in hand.

The grandma of the principal looked at Bobo kindly, and leaned over to ask him: "He Yueyang, who is the one who brought you here today?"

"It's brother!" Bubu replied, "Dad is not at home, brother sent me here."

Songran explained: "I live opposite He Yueyang's house, and I usually have a relationship...er, it's kind of close. Mr. He has been on business for two days and will be back in half a month. He asked me to help pick up Bobu."

"Well, let the kid go in first, and my brother will stay for a while." The principal smiled, "Wait a little time for you to register your identity information."

Song Ran: "Good, good."

Bubu said goodbye to him, rushed into the kindergarten happily, plunged into the pile of girls, and chatted with a few little girls who were so beautiful.

It seems that since childhood, he has a talent for making girls.

It's unfortunate, follow dad.

Songran commented inwardly.

He showed his ID card, filled in his mobile phone number, and brushed his face with a bright smile at the grandma of the principal, and when the cart stepped on the pedal, he went to the nearest vegetable market.

Raising a child is not an easy task, nor is it an easy task to raise other people's children.

When I answered the phone last night, Songran was in a state of sleepwalking. I didn't think too much. I only thought that Bubu was cute and obedient. Ten thousand were not at ease or willing to give it to others, and had to raise it by himself. Today, he really entered the rhythm of the little daddy, and he realized that he was not suitable for raising children.

Because of poverty.

In City S, white-collar workers with a monthly income of 20,000 dared to call themselves poor, but the sacred poverty is genuine, childish, and without any moisture. He has only one bank card, and his balance fluctuates in the four-digit range all year round, and occasionally goes to five digits. That is, the manuscript fee that has been in arrears for several months has arrived, and the rent will be relentlessly returned to four digits the next day.

When he first took over Budoudou, he saw the 8012A Ling Cailuhua cat canned food, checked the price online, and since then recognized the noble status of the master and became a loyal and good cat slave.

Songran I am used to living a poor life. Apple only buys the cheapest gala fruit. Strawberry only buys one or two catties of Qingpu greenhouse goods during the peak season to relieve hunger. Cherries have not been touched for more than two years. The eggs are absolutely white. Those who don't buy brown shells...In the crazy deadline for manuscripts, instant noodles and sausages can make do with a month, and all the money saved is spent on drawing paper and paint.

Now there are more small **** in the house, Songran changed the style of buying vegetables from the poor and middle peasants in the past, and delivered the red tickets one by one.

For the eggs, you need to pick the local eggs, the beef for the tenderloin, the Jiwei shrimp only buys live, the chicken wings only buy the wings, and the four carrots are picked for five minutes. The grandmother who set up the stall looked at him with disgust and asked if his wife was pregnant. Songran was stunned and said that he didn't have a wife yet, but there was one child, and the grandma immediately "tsk tsk" twice, and she cast her eyes down, disgusting him more and more.

Songran answered wrong in one sentence, unable to argue with a hundred words, and paid the carrot money in embarrassment.

"How can Xiao Ning's mother run special? Karma gave birth to Xiao Ning at a young age. Grandpa Afa knows to take care of Nong!"

(Why, the child’s mother ran away? Parents don’t know to take care of you if they give birth at such a young age)

The grandmother babbled, unwillingly found a dime from the change bank, stared at Songran and asked, "I want to cut the change?"

The look in his eyes called a murderous look.

Songran didn't even dare to find zero, and continued to say: "No more, no more!"

He picked up the plastic bag and flashed people quickly.

The little virgin Songran walked into the vegetable market innocently, and when he left, he became a child born out of wedlock, with a huge "injustice" on his forehead.

He rode back to Bishuiwanju, with a basket full of vegetables, fruits, fresh meat, and milk. He turned to test his arm strength, and almost didn't stop when he passed the parking spaces under the five umbrella sheds.

There were a dozen cars parked in the parking space, and Songran looked around one by one as usual.

There is no silver-gray Infiniti.

Since moving in to today, he has seen all kinds of luxury cars in Bishuiwanju, except for the modest Infiniti, which he never had the chance to see again except the first time he saw it.

Not once.

The little flame in Song Ran's heart burned weaker and weaker, and it was almost out of oil.

He had a weird idea a few days ago, thinking that the Infiniti might not be here at all. That day, his male **** just took the child to visit him, and he happened to meet him. He didn't figure out anything, he grabbed the key and moved in in a bewildered manner, but he was empty.

In order to verify this idea, Songran once went downstairs to look for a car at four in the morning, and found nothing for two consecutive days.

He lost sleep immediately.

With a population of more than 20 million in S City, in the face of such a huge population base, all efforts and fate are insignificant. If the Infiniti male **** really doesn't live here, then... Song Ran will never see him for the second time in this life.

How did that happen?

Songran squeezed the handlebar of the bicycle, staring melancholy at a basket of food, wondering if he changed from a bachelor to a little dad overnight, but skipped the most anticipated romantic part in the middle, would it be miserable? A little bit? Everyone has spring, summer, autumn and winter. He always submits papers on time and pays taxes on time. He has never owed God anything, why is it not a spring?

When the refrigerator is finished, the clock is already pointing to ten.

The daylight is warm and the living room is bright, which is suitable for painting.

Songran arranged the paper, pen, and paint tray, and the soft and easy-to-tipped big hairy ball came to disturb, rubbing his calf in circles, meowing and begging for food. Songran opened a can of tuna and spooned it into the cat bowl. The cloth pockets were extravagant and wasteful. After licking two mouthfuls, she wandered to wash her face in the sun. Songran had to wrap the remaining cans in plastic wrap and put them back in the refrigerator.

He sat down in front of the workbench again, opened the top drawer, and took out a wooden picture frame.

In the frame is a sketched portrait with a half-faced face. In the picture, the Infiniti male **** looks forward with a smile on his lips, with such a lazy and seductive little sexy.

Song Ran looked at him, and his heart rate was out of control again.

This scene was engraved too deeply in his memory, like the hottest soldering iron, pressing hard against the softest heart-when the car body had just turned a small angle, blurred sunlight poured down through the windshield, It outlines the man's deep handsome facial features, like a studio lamp hitting the model's face.

In a short moment, the shaft in Songran's brain rusted, his thinking was stagnant, and he couldn't rotate normally.

When he rushed home to paint, his pen hand was shaking.

The picture of love at first sight is always so vivid, and too many details are blurred because of the emotion.

Songran closed his eyes, and the roots of the hair behind the male god's neck were visible, but as long as the pen was painted, everything looked like a large-size mosaic. He panicked, and he didn't dare to stop thinking about it, for fear that one more minute of his memory would pass by, and the shocking encounter would gradually become distorted until he could no longer remember it.

Hook the outline, cut out the details, and hit the shadows.

A portrait was hurriedly painted, and Songran looked left and right, dissatisfied in every way, felt that his wiring was in a mess, the light and shadow were terrible, the connection was unsightly, and it did not reflect the handsomeness of a male god.

On impulse, he almost rubbed it and threw it away.

After the impulse, he calmed down, and Songran objectively commented, feeling that his skill is still remarkable. The reason why it is not pleasing to the eye is completely because he is in a state of idiot, and the requirements are extremely high. Don't talk about sketching, even a one-to-one holographic projection will not be satisfactory-unless the male **** stands in front of him.

So Songran kept this sketch, framed it into the frame, as a thought, took it out for five minutes before starting work every day, pretending that he was in love with his favorite male god.

"Ahem, it's past ten o'clock, I'm about to start work here."

Across the frame glass, Songran touched the male god's cheek, and put on a generous upright posture: "You must be busier than I am at work today. I won't bother you for now. I will contact you in the afternoon...afternoon. "

He opened the drawer and put the sketch back upright.

After closing the drawer, Songran suddenly felt extremely ashamed of his behavior, covering his face and thinking: This month, he should have caused the male **** to sneez a lot, right?

Oh, sorry!

It's rare that the dead tree is in spring, so you forgive me.

Songran put his hands together and bowed his head to apologize to the beloved male god.

At the same time, in the technical department of SwordArc at the other end of the ocean, the code farmers who were working overtime heard their CTO sneezes three times, one after the other loudly.

"Blessyou, He."

"Blessyou, He."

"Blessyou, He."

...

For a while, warm blessings floated all over the room.

He Zhiyuan stretched out his hand and took a paper towel, staring at the cold coffee in front of him, thinking it was time to make a cup of hot **** tea.