chapter99

"It's a good thing to wake up."

The buzzing sound of the car engine echoed in the ear.

The wheels crushed over the slightly bumpy ground, and the small slices of sand stones were shifted.

The window in the rear seat was half open, and the young man in the car looked out the window quietly, and the broken hair of his temples swayed lightly with the warm wind blowing in.

Baishi Zhengqianren held the steering wheel in the front driver's seat, and said with emotion: "Your luck is already very good. You must know that the probability of the vegetatives can wake up is really too low."

"Yeah." Jin Quansheng responded softly.

"It doesn't matter if you can't stand up now. Recently, I take you to the rehabilitation center every day to do rehabilitation." Baishi Zhengqian got out of the car, opened the door of the yard, and returned to the driver's seat to drive the car into the garage.

Today is the day when Jin Quansheng is discharged from the hospital.

Shiraishi Zhengqian Ren broke the sky and asked for leave, excluded that he had hurriedly drove to the hospital and took him back to Baishi House.

After entering the garage, Shiraishi Masachiren moved a wheelchair out of the rear compartment, helped Shirouinsuki get out of the car, and placed him in a wheelchair.

There has been no change in this mansion. Three years have passed and the house has almost no aging.

Baishi Zhengqianren has always liked to take care of his yard. When there is no job, he will plant some flowers or crops in the courtyard, and then cut the bushes into a delicate shape.

When the young man walked through the trail between the lawn in a wheelchair, a voice asked in his mind:

[Do you feel nostalgic?]

Jinquan will ignore it.

"The weather is good these days. If there is nothing, you can come out and bask in the sun." Bai Shizheng Qianren stopped under the rails on the first floor.

"Once your mother took you over to play, you still sat here to paint." A few thoughts flashed in the light gray eyes of the old man.

"When you were a kid, you liked painting, and I thought before that you will definitely become an excellent painter like your parents in the future."

Jin Quan was staring at the big stone he had sitting before, and his narrow eyes narrowed slightly at the end of his eyes.

"Father." He raised his head, looked at the old man standing behind him, and smiled slowly: "I want to buy a set of paintings."

Shiraishi Masaki Ren was stunned for a while, then opened his eyes wide with shock.

Nympho

In the early morning of the next day, the nourishment of the doorbell came from the gate of Baishi House.

"Come on—"

Jinquan's loud sound, shaking the wheels and walked slowly.

The painting tools arrived very quickly and filled a large box.

The person who came to send the courier handed him a list: "Just sign the name here."

Jinquan has taken over and signed his own name at the recipient.

He hasn't held the hand for three years. At first, he was a bit jerky when he wrote, and his wrist was stiff. But the pen that he finally fell was still chic, and each handwriting was pleasing to the eye.

"Brother, your handwriting is so beautiful." When the courier took the order, he glanced at the customer again.

The man sitting in a wheelchair was wearing a white shirt. His skeleton was very beautiful, his head and shoulders were just right, and the half length exposed when he lowered his head to sign was smooth and delicate, but he looked a little thin;

His appearance is outstanding, his temperament is unique, and he cannot tell the specific age. His clear and deep facial features exudes a sense of alienation, and his face is pale as if he is recovering from a serious illness. In the sun, blood vessels hidden under the skin can even be seen vaguely.

When facing beautiful and fragile things, people will involuntarily feel compassion and desire for protection.

This courier is no exception.

He probed the probe, and it was estimated that since the younger brother who was in a wheelchair came to pick up the goods himself, there should be no one else in the house. So he asked enthusiastically: "This cargo is quite heavy, I will help you move you to move you.

Go in?"

I saw the young man's extremely light gray eyes glanced slowly.

When the courier was stunned, when he was stared at by the eyes of the youth, he even suddenly produced an illusion that his soul was being viewed by the other party. It was clearly a hot summer day, but his back was exploded at the cold cold cold.

Afterwards, the youth smiled at him again. The arc on the lips was very shallow, but it looked particularly good -looking, so that the courier only thought that the creepy feeling was the illusion.

Jinquan opened the door lock from the inside, shaking the wheelchair to make it open, politely: "You have worked, please enter."

The courier walked into the courtyard with a large box and picked up an empty space.

"Can you put it here here?"

The youth nodded: "Yes, thank you."

After putting the big box down, the young courier turned around again.

"Then I'll leave, boy."

"Well, goodbye." Jinquan Sheng waved to the other party with considerate care.

Lock the door of the courtyard, and shook the wheels at Jinquan to move slowly in front of the paper shell box.

[It seems that you have planned it?] There is no emotional voice in your mind.

"There are too many words of you." Jinquan rolled out a beautiful worker knife and slowly cut the tape above the box.

[No, I know everything you are thinking now.] The voice said, [After all, there is probably no second person in the world who knows you better than me.]

The dark -haired young man sneered, and his back lipped out: "Are you a human? Is it a bit of love?"

[It depends on how you define it.] It does not seem to be angry.

[I have done it before, even though it has failed.]

Jinquan Sheng obviously has no interest in understanding it in the past, but only focuses on what he is on hand.

After opening the box, various painting tools were neatly placed inside, all of which were famous brands, with high prices and professionalism. They were all ordered by Shiraishi Masachihito personally called at a high-end painting material store yesterday afternoon.

He took out a canvas from it, sporadically selected a few models of fans, and finally moved out the pigment.

It costs some trouble to move with a wheelchair, and the movement rate has also been reduced repeatedly -compared with when he hasn't been lethargic, this slow -paced lifestyle has never been conceived, and it is unprecedented.

But Jin Quansheng's expression was calm. He accepted this fact that he was very fast, and the action was not panic.

[Do you have nothing to ask me?]

"Yes." Jinquan Sheng supported the telescopic painting rack and stood under the house of the house.

"But will you answer me if I ask?"

[This depends on what you asked me.]

"Hmm ..." He raised his eyes halfway and gently: "Why do I have to" die 'at the playground? "

After he woke up, he checked his mobile phone as soon as possible, and then found that the comic software was still on the mobile phone interface, but he couldn't click in anyway. Thoroughly.

He did not die, but the time had passed for three years, and there was something that had been talking about himself.

Soon he reacted again. This thing seems to be the "pop -up window" in that comic software.

In the memory, when he manipulated Chuanjiang's body to climb the ladder inside the facilities that rushed into the sky, the guy had already emerged into his brain.

At that time, the pop -up window acknowledged that it was the bomb control system that invaded the sub -shadow, and the bombs on two amusement facilities were blown up. , Confront the Yamashita well.

The pop -up window of this comic software planned his death in one hand -it was afraid that he would not die on the square lamp in the end, and stop the [Chasing Mode]. Message.

The major node that does not change is- "the death of Chuanjiang Xun and Jinquan Sheng".

[Good question.] Popular window saying.

[Because only two bodies die together, I can let you reach the "first trace".]

"Back to?" Jinquan raised an eyebrow, "What does it mean?"

[Didn't I say it? In the three and a half years of your body's coma, you actually did a lot of things after you were busy.]

That sound was low sigh: [Unfortunately, you forgot, we have made a good partner for a long time.]

"... I don't think we will be a good partner." He shook the wheelchair to pick up the barrel water, "Obviously we have a bad personality -and I hate the feeling of being invaded by private spaces."

The meaning of words: Please get out of my mind.

[I understand, I feel something deeply. But this is a forced one. Please adapt and make do with it—]

In other words, this thing is destined to go out.

"I will take time to find a doctor for a doctor." Jin Quansheng picked the corner of his mouth indifferently.

[I guess you want to say that. I won't stop you -but from the science and technology level of this era, doctors can't find any clue.]

The voice still has no fluctuations, but it sounds quite ridiculous: [Believe me, your brain is very healthy.]

"Shut up." Jinquan held a pen with a pen and knocked on the barrel. The clear water splashed and fell on the green grass.

——The sound finally disappeared.

Temporary.

Jinquan Sheng finally calmed down and looked at the canvas in front of him.

He hasn't painted it for a long time.
To be continued...