Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

We wake up very early.

What an extravagant Monday, I was rolling around on Miss Pande’s bed while she was struggling to take a shower, and she was in the next room at the moment. After all, the time of intimacy depends on the race against time, and Miss Pande is finally willing to dry her hair with a hairdryer.

I was still lying on the bed, wrapping myself tightly with the duvet. Miss Pan De understands the unique and pleasant experience of covering a thick quilt in the summer: when the air conditioner is turned on low and holding the duvet, I feel an untimely warm feeling.

I am not as happy as living in reality.

It's as if silkworms are living in the cocoon that they have woven, every inch of the space that can be touched is so down-to-earth and reliable, and stable like a guarded dream.

But if this is really a dream, who should I thank?

There is no **** in the world. Also because there is no God, things in the world cannot be simply attributed to cause and effect, nor can we purely believe in fate. But those continuous coincidences, miracles in life, and my encounter with her are always grassy gray lines, and there are traces to follow.

Karma is a wonderful person (Karmaisabitch).

However, in my daily routines year after year, there is indeed such a wonderful person who deserves my thanks-saying "worthy" is too light.

Because of her, at this moment, I became the number one lucky person in the world.

Not far away is the sound of the hair dryer working. My heart moved at will, and that kind of noise actually felt nice.

People.

I took out the phone and confirmed that Qu Zhizhi had only posted her running heroic figure to Moments five minutes ago-but the content of the selfie has nothing to do with the subject, it doesn't matter-and then called her.

Dr. Qu's voice was almost trembling: "Li Yao? What's wrong?"

"Are you free?"

I opened my mouth, and all her sporadic cares and worries disappeared: "You are just idle. Come on, I will be free before half past eight."

"Nothing." I said, "I just want to thank you very much."

"Thank me, you can discount it, you don't need to ask specifically." Zhizhi spoke slowly, "What did I do to make you so grateful?"

"You don't understand." I said, "Anyway, thank you very much."

Qu Zhizhi took a breath, showing a rare good temper, but he didn't get angry. The other end of the phone said: "You dreamed of what happened when we were in school, and suddenly found out in your conscience?"

"Who has the conscience to find out, my conscience is always online." I rolled my eyes.

"...We have known each other for many years, my friend. I can tell whether you have a conscience or not."

"Yes, yes, you are right." Miss Pan De, who rushed back to the bedroom, made a gesture, "Anyway, I owe you a favor, you know it."

"Wait a minute, Li Yao," Zhizhi said, "You call here specifically and don't say anything useful, just to inform me-you owe me a favor?"

"I'm not called'notification'. That's called thanks."

She sighed: "Okay, okay. If you have anything else, please send me a message, okay? I'm going to the office now."

Her tone was completely coaxing children, still absent-minded. I didn't know how to explain it for a while, but she was fine, and sent me a few sentences.

Miss Pan De narrowed her eyes slightly, her tone was very complicated: "Who is that?"

"my friend."

"A friend who will call at eight o'clock in the morning?"

"I called her." I said, "It's the person who matched us. I'm just...really happy. You know, there are so many coincidences between us, it seems that there is no way to walk into each other without a step. Life. I also want to thank Peter, but it's too abrupt."

"I will thank you with your share." Miss Pan De sat on the side of the bed with gentle eyes, "Your friend is the corresponding author of that paper?"

"It's that person." I took her hand along the way, "and she also got me back in touch with my mother. This is - this is a very long story, I will tell you later."

"Okay." Miss Pande blinked. "I thought you were talking on the phone with a cute girl."

I smiled but didn't smile: "For example, who?"

"Like..." She ignored my full confidence, her voice dragged a long, and finally said, "Like Ning?"

Feeling that I didn't hear clearly, I frowned slightly and asked, "I'm sorry?"

"An Ning, the technician on Kevin's side." Seeing my reaction, she looked a little bit ill-intentioned, "Don't tell me that you are not familiar."

I was stunned for a moment: "No, I just didn't expect you to mention her."

"I saw you in Farrer Park before—" She paused, then stood up suddenly, turned her back, "Well, in fact, I saw you at Huale Hotel. It's been a while, you may not I remember, but I happened to go there to meet the client and I was very impressed. Were you dating at the time?"

"No! Of course not." I lifted the quilt, put on my shoes and stood up with her, "I remember I told you..."

"You said it is something we can't talk about." Miss Pan De's eyelashes moved, and she couldn't see what emotions she had at the moment.

I took a breath. I can't explain this at all. It's not appropriate to use personal affairs as a shield. After all, this is also a family ugly. I lowered my head slightly, looked up at Miss Pande, and said, pulling her hand: "Don't you believe me?"

Miss Pan De really worked. She looked at me helplessly: "Considering your style, I really don't think you will date someone from the same company."

"No, no, compared to that," the more I listened, the more ridiculous I felt, how awkward I thought, and shook my head busy, explaining, "It's really weird that I am dating An Ning. She is a friend of mine, I mean Outside of work."

She squinted her eyes: "You have a lot of friends. Friends who will call at 8 o'clock in the morning, and Saturday friends who have refused to go to the appointment."

I hold the forehead. Where is this aged flying vinegar?

Does she still have this habit of being jealous across oceans?

Although I instinctively felt that Miss Pende was only making fun of me, there are still many things worth taking risks in life. It is better not to count this situation. I immediately chose to say: "This may be a little unbelievable...but Ning is the sister of the friend who just talked on the phone."

She obviously did not expect this possibility.

"I know, I know. The world is small, right?" I sighed softly, "No one in our company knows about this. I hope you can keep it secret for me. Is this too much?"

"No. Of course I will keep the secret." Miss Pan De touched her lips, her doubts seemed to have disappeared, but then a new mist was caught, and she didn't mean to retreat at all.

"What are you thinking?"

Her gaze turned into a gentle river like water vapor gathering, towards me. Her smile made me unable to tell what I was coming for, but I almost subconsciously laughed with her: the river was full of my reflection, as if in the reflection, the corners of my mouth had warmth, and the expression in my eyes was in harmony with her. .

But let's not say that the heart is connected, I can't even grasp the transition of her prank at the moment. Miss Pan De reminds me of the jumping silk thread—the kind that is moved by her skilled hands.

She just hid a piece of mischievous clothes in her eyes, and said softly: "I'm thinking, what kind of feeling will she feel in her heart when you touch Ning's hand."

I frowned tightly: "Uh, feel supported? Wait a moment--"

"I'm in a position other than your two tables." Miss Pan De looked at me nonchalantly, "Ning had seen me and nodded with me before leaving. Did you not notice at all?"

I was very irritable at that time, it would be good not to show my bottom in front of tranquility, there is no energy to pay attention to these. I shook my head dumbly, trying to get the topic back on track: "In short, as I mentioned last night, for a long time, I have only you in my life, and of course there will be no other people there. And no matter what, my date can't be Anning."

"Why, isn't she cute?"

I touched my eyebrows: "Do you think this is the point?"

If we don't have to rush to the meeting right away, we will definitely have to discuss this issue in a more in-depth way of communication.

"No, of course not. I would say whether she is cute or not is an unrelated factor." Miss Pande moved her index finger away from her lips, calmly, "I just realized something suddenly."

"what?"

"You don't know that she likes you, do you?" She looked at me and suddenly laughed, "I know. You don't have a count."

A punctuation mark slowly popped up in my mind.

That is a question mark.

Then, there were two, three, and question marks all over.

Did Miss Pan De suffer from hallucinations because she liked me too much? Since I met, I questioned her wisdom from the bottom of my heart, doubting that her way of knowing and understanding the world is different from mine.

I tried to stay calm, but my shock was obviously impossible to conceal: "Well, I'm sorry—but what makes you such a judgment? It's impossible. We have known each other for more than ten years, and I just met her. She was still a high school student at the time."

"You know, technically, we have known each other for more than ten years." Miss Pande touched my face, "What did you do to me last night?"

I swallowed: "That's different."

"Why is it different?"

"That, that—" I choked.

Miss Pan De laughed. Her hand has left my face, hugging herself, smiling happily. I laughed uncontrollably, and she laughed more presumptuously, as if she couldn't stop it. In the end, she was almost out of breath, and fell back on the bed, holding her belly with one hand.

Although I knew she was laughing at me, because I didn't know why, she was...in every aspect, so infectious. Together with my rectus abdominis, I was mobilized by her.

It seemed that after spending a lot of willpower, she finally stopped. Miss Pan De, still smiling, stretched out her hand to me.

I grabbed her without thinking, and tried to drag her up: my right hand was suddenly dragged down by a force in the opposite direction, and I fell onto her.

Miss Pan De is about to overturn and appear above.

My brain is starting to get confused again.

Her fingers went down my ears, but only the back of her hand, she slid to her cheeks and to her lips. Like the feet of a hummingbird, the rain on the rose hasn't been touched once, Miss Pan De, if it seems to touch my nerves.

Her voice was soft: "People who are not good at expressing are easy to suffer."

"I'm just not good at verbal expression."

"I think you are very good at it." Miss Pan De bit her lip and looked at me with her eyes down. "Of course, there are some verbal expressions that you are not good at..."

I had forgotten what I was discussing with her earlier, and it took a long time to organize the language: "You didn't mean to go out with me later?"

"I blow-dried my hair. This means I saved half an hour... and for you, there is obviously room for compression." Her hand took a step forward. "You know that McDonald's limit meal speed can be Fifty seconds?"

"what?"

"Compared with competing companies, they have a unified single product splitting program, which is expensive to maintain, but worth the money. The multi-threaded MFY system even reduces the reliance on the duty manager and reduces the cost of employment. If You are interested in data..." Miss Pan De said a love story that is not a love story at all.

And I have long been addicted.