4

  During dinner, Gu Cheng told his daughter Gu Liusha: "You'd better not go upstairs in the attic these two days. Your aunt must not know that your grandmother is in the hospital."

  Gu Liusha was silent. The 6-year-old child had learned to be stubborn too early. Speechless, she declared her resistance.

  Gu Cheng frowned, his expression more serious than before: "I'm waiting for your answer."

  "OK." Gu Liusha drank the milk in one breath, leaving Gu Cheng with a small back view.

  The dinner table with only one person sitting was too empty. Gu Cheng leaned back tiredly and closed his eyes deeply.

  In the dark night, a woman's voice floated in every corner of the room along the spiral staircase.

  "You live quietly in my heart, like a full moon in the night."

  Tagore's poem, Gu Sheng loved this sentence the most, like a promise, chanting it repeatedly.

  Her voice was calm, but her heart was already riddled with holes, and her soul, like her fate, had wandered too far and had no idea where to return to...

  The food had already gone cold, and Gu Cheng finished smoking his last cigarette, stubbed it out, and walked into the kitchen.

  It was dark outside the window. The night wind squeezed in through the cracks in the window, and the thin wind was mixed with a faint stickiness.

  Gu Cheng went upstairs with dinner and milk.

  "Brother, let me out! I won't make trouble..."

  Gu Sheng's murmurs rang out in the attic, very soft, but every word was clear.

  Gu Cheng curled up his fingers, stood outside the door with a plate in his hand, and did not move for a long time.

  ...

  It was early March when Lu Zichu returned to China.

  At noon on March 5, Lu Zichu had an appointment for a blind date.

  The blind date was arranged by his mother Han Shuhui, and it was too late to refuse, so he had to go. The girl's father was quite famous in the business world, and Lu Zichu had eaten with him. Since they had some dealings, he could not lose his manners.

  When Fang Xin saw Lu Zichu, he was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper, with a cup of lemon tea in front of him, steaming.

  From her angle, she could just see Lu Zichu's profile, with a cold outline. Just sitting quietly, he had a fatal attraction. After

  many blind dates, Fang Xin experienced for the first time what it felt like to have a faster heartbeat and what it felt like to be nervous and uneasy.

  Fang Xin looked shy, put the book on the corner of the dining table, and sat opposite Lu Zichu: "Sorry, I was just buying a book in the bookstore and was late for a while."

  "It's okay." Lu Zichu put down the newspaper and put his fingers on the teacup.

  Fang Xin didn't dare to look into his eyes, but only dared to stare at his fingers. His knuckles were slender and sexy, and his nails were trimmed very round. She was so nervous that she didn't even dare to breathe.

  "Like Tagore?"

  The clear and cold voice made Fang Xin stunned for a moment, and finally raised her eyes to look at Lu Zichu, only to see him staring deeply at the Tagore poetry collection, and there was a soft halo in his indifferent and distant eyes.

  "I like it." Fang Xin answered very concisely. She had read a lot of reports about Lu Zichu before coming here. He seemed to prefer women who were taciturn.

  Lu Zichu's eyebrows revealed a hint of affection: "Do you have any favorite poems?"

  "Yes."

  Fang Xin was excited, wondering which poem a man like Lu Zichu would prefer.

  After thinking for a while, she spoke: "Only fingers that have bled can play the world's masterpiece."

  Fang Xin carefully checked Lu Zichu's expression. He still had a smile on his face. He was a little careless when drinking tea. I don't know what he was thinking about, but his eyes returned to their usual indifference.

  Putting down the cup, Lu Zichu said in a very light voice: "Very good."