Song Xiang went downstairs and went home. Yan Han was still busy in the study.
She was so weak that she dragged her tired body back to the room and lay quietly alone.
After a long time, Yan Han came and knocked on the door.
"Bumpkin, I fixed it."
You are a country bumpkin, and your whole family is a country bumpkin!
Song Xiang buried her face in the pillow, sniffed hard, stood up, and took out a tissue to wipe her tears.
After making sure that the problem was not serious, she walked over and opened the door.
As soon as the door opened, Yan Han originally planned to tease her, but when she looked up, he discovered that her eyes were red.
"You cried?"
Song Xiang pulled a face and stretched out her hand towards him, "Music box."
Yan Han frowned, glanced at the small thing in his hand, raised his hand and placed it in her palm.
Song Xiang got the things and immediately closed the door.
Yan Han was nervous about her and held the door with one hand, "What's the matter with you?"
Song Xiang hid in the doorway and said angrily: "You can go, I don't want to take you in today, and I don't need you to protect me."
Yan Han's breath tightened, and his mind turned around, wondering if he had done something excessive, otherwise Song Xiang would not cry easily.
He opened his mouth and said: "You open the door first..."
Song Xiang: "I don't want to see you."
Yan Han: "..."
He frowned and breathed out, "Give me a reason."
Song Xiang: "I'm in a bad mood!"
He was stagnant with harsh words, and his facial expression could not help but become tense.
As old as he is, he has always been the only one to give others a look, and no one has ever yelled at him that he was in a bad mood.
But this person was still Song Xiang. Firstly, he couldn't bear to touch her, and secondly, he knew in his heart that with his previous criminal record, no matter how good Song Xiang thought of it, his mood could turn bad.
"Let go." Song Xiang said.
Yan Han breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed a little, "If you don't want to say it today, forget it. Can you say it tomorrow?"
"have no idea."
Yan Han frowned, "Okay..."
After saying that, he really took his hand back.
As soon as he retracted his hand, Song Xiang's force on the door panel slammed the door shut.
After a sound, both sides fell silent.
Yan Han wandered back and forth in front of the door. For the last time, he asked Song Xiang: "Are you hungry?"
Song Xiang did not return.
He was not sure which of his previous convictions had offended Song Xiang, and he was not easy to react. If Song Xiang was provoked, he would really shoot himself in the foot.
If she didn't let him stay overnight, he would go out, and she didn't rent the corridor anyway.
Indoors, Song Xiang leaned on the door panel and heard the sound of a door closing outside, confirming that Yan Han had gone out.
She pursed her lips and felt a little like crying. She raised her hand, and the black velvet box was placed in her palm.
It's heavy and seems a little different from before.
She opened the door and went out, and sure enough she didn't see Yan Han.
I walked into the study with my head hanging down and saw a pile of tools on the desk.
My heart hurt, and I couldn't help but scold myself for being useless.
The matter has already passed, why should we continue to think wildly and make each other unhappy?
He put away his things with an expressionless face, turned around and didn't even eat dinner, and returned to the room listlessly.
He fell on the bed, still holding the music box in his arms.
I fell asleep in a daze, and when I woke up, the room was dark. When I looked up at the clock, it was only four in the morning.
I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep, thinking about Yan Han's soft words that retreated and retreated outside the door.
He sat up and didn't notice the things in his arms. He suddenly shook the quilt and almost dropped the things.