Rong Boye's eyes would light up only when he talked about Nanqing. Song Xiang came closer and said, "Dad."
"Um?"
Song Xiang opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
"I'm going out tomorrow night and may not come back."
Rong Boye looked up at her and noticed that she was different from usual. He thought for a moment and said, "I know."
"If I receive some special gifts, can I accept them?" Song Xiang asked hesitantly.
Rong Boye stopped and looked up at her again, frowning and pondering for a moment.
He tapped his fingers twice on the dressing table, pursed his pale cyan lips tightly, looked at Song Xiang again and again, and finally moved his gaze to the mirror.
He threw away the veil, walked to the piano bench and sat down.
He raised his hand as if he was groping for something.
Song Xiang is familiar with that action, seems to be looking for cigarettes?
"You want to smoke?"
Rong Boye took back his hand and regained his composure. He had stopped smoking a long time ago. After Nan Qing left, there were even fewer smokes. At that moment, he instinctively looked for cigarettes. Even he didn't think of it. The last time he was so irritable, it seemed that
It was still when he was rejected by Nanqing.
"He... made an agreement with you?"
Song Xiang was nervous by her father's reaction. She stood aside obediently, holding the dressing table with one hand, "It's... it seems."
"What does it mean?"
Rong Boye's eyebrows narrowed a little more and he wanted to speak, but found that he had nothing to say. He had no experience in educating his daughter.
When I was annoyed, I scanned the photos of Nanqing.
If Nannan was here, he would definitely know how to deal with it.
"According to your birth age, you are only twenty-four years old." After thinking for a long time, he said this.
Song Xiang bit her mouth and muttered, "Well, mom was..."
Rong Boye: "..."
If you really think about it, when he came up with Nan Qing's idea, Nan Qing was not yet twenty-four.
Song Xiang raised his head and took a peek, trying to say: "It's just a gift, not necessarily that right away..."
Rong Boye's face was complicated and his emotions could not be seen.
"Have you recognized him?" he asked suddenly.
Song Xiang listened to the tone and was neither angry nor happy. She nodded.
Rong Boye put his hands on his knees and lowered his head slightly, seeming to be struggling.
Song Xiang stood not far away, trying to figure out a secret that worried her by observing him.
"Take it if you want."
After a long time, Rong Boye spoke.
Song Xiang was startled.
Rong Boye raised his head with a faint look in his eyes, "Just don't regret it."
Song Xiang took a breath, closed the hand on his side, and nodded heavily.
Rong Boye looked away, raised his hand, "Go and rest."
Song Xiang didn't move and said, "In two days, can you take me to my mother's cemetery?"
Rong Boye has not mentioned it for so long, and this is the first time she has taken the initiative to ask.
Rong Boye stood up, picked up the handkerchief, turned around and wiped the contents inside.
He turned his back to Song Xiang, and after a while he said: "When your matter is settled, go and tell her."
Song Xiang said "hmm" and after confirming that Rong Boye had nothing to say, she slowly stepped back.
In the room, Rong Boye put down the small ornaments in his hand heavily. A look of pain flashed between his eyebrows. He supported the wall and calmed down. Then he remembered that he had used too much force and instead of paying attention to himself, he picked up the small ornaments first.
Checked it out.
Fortunately, it was not broken. He carefully placed it back next to Nan Qing's photo.
Raise your hand and gently rub your knuckles across the glass of the picture frame.
"Nan Nan, God seems to be too kind to that family."