Song Yunhui had just hung up the phone when two messages popped up on his mobile phone.

He just leaned against the railing, looking down at his phone. The cool night breeze blew his hair back, and the light from the phone illuminated part of his face.

When he doesn't smile, he seems like a different person.

There was no smile in those eyes, and there was a coldness in the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.

He put away his phone, turned around and went back into the house.

Song Yunhui picked up the small cake with a smile and sank back into the sofa.

The comic blogger he followed had just updated his novel about Big Eyes. Song Yunhui handed his phone to Qin Shu and lay on the sofa, laughing so hard that he couldn't straighten his back.

Qin Shu took the phone and looked down.

It is a four-grid comic strip, and the protagonist is a grass.

According to the comments below, the painting style is extremely simple and the content is extremely crude.

Qin Shu didn't quite understand the meaning of Shengcao, but he agreed.

Very strange and eye-catching.

A little weird, not sure, take another look.

The laughter stopped, Song Yunhui took a bite of the cake, then came over to look at the screen again and continued laughing.

He always finds a lot of interesting things.

There are not only four-grid grass, but also many other gadgets.

Qin Shu's brows softened and he smiled.

Finally, late at night, Song Yunhui stood at the door and watched Qin Shu go back.

He waved and closed the door.

Relaxation time is over.

Song Yunhui had not forgotten that he had work to do. He rummaged through the drawers and finally found a clip that he had used to hold papers. He pinned his hair behind his back so that it would not block his view.

The clip was made of wood, and there were traces of a black signature pen on it that he had accidentally left on it before, but he didn't mind as long as it could be used.

We need to decide on the musical instruments tonight. As there is no suitable sound source for the strings, we also need to arrange a recording studio and an operations team, so the time needs to be set within the next few days.

He has some musical instruments in his own recording studio, but he is proficient in only two or three of them. He doesn't use all of them fluently, but he knows how to operate them. If he doesn't have a soft sound source, he has to find someone to record it.

A lot of money was spent on soundproofing the recording studio, so Song Yunhui doesn't have to worry about the effect and can do whatever he wants.

The recording studio is very spacious, with a carpet on the upper floor of the center, so Song Yunhui can sit cross-legged here when he wants to organize his thoughts.

There were white papers scattered on the ground, with sparse or dense words and symbols on them. With the earphones pressing down on his black hair, Song Yunhui lowered his head, opened the paper on the computer keyboard and started to debug again.

***

hospital

In the quiet ward, the sound of keyboard tapping disappeared, and the assistant just walked into the room.

"Mr. Zhong."

The assistant said, "Mr. Song is here."

He strode forward and whispered at the right moment, "It's Mr. Song Zishu."

"Song Zishu?"

Zhong Xu stared at the computer screen, then raised his head and said, "Yes."

A white figure appeared at the door.

He was holding some fruit in his hands, which were tied with ribbons. He was wearing a white coat, which made him look delicate and handsome.

After handing the fruit to his assistant, he sat down on a stool beside the bed, looked at the bandage on Zhong Xu's head, and asked with concern, "How do you feel now?"

"It's just a scratch," said Zhong Xu.

Song Zishu breathed a sigh of relief, "I was so scared, luckily nothing happened."

Zhong Xu smiled.

It is indeed rare for a malicious rear-end collision to end with only a scratch.

The assistant stood aside, looking at Song Zishu's exquisite dress, listening to his emotional and steady voice, remaining silent, and taking his words with reservations.

At least he wasn't as anxious as he let on.

But Zhong Xu seemed not to notice any of this. He relaxed his expression and spoke slowly to Song Zishu.

A rare moment of warmth.

The assistant was sensible enough to go out and close the door.

After that, after a while, or perhaps not long after, the assistant who was still explaining the current situation to all parties heard the noise, looked up and saw Song Zishu passing by him.

The other person's figure quickly disappeared around the corner.

When I walked into the ward, Zhong Xu had already started reading his notebook.

The assistant said: "The previous number may not be Mr. Song's..."

"That's his number."

Zhong Xu raised his eyes, "Did you call him?"

Before the assistant could reply, Zhong Xu said, "Don't contact him."

The other party must be angry or busy with something.

We have known each other for such a long time, there won't be anything that can't be solved.

It’s hard to explain over the phone, but we can talk it out when we meet in person later.

“…”

The assistant nodded, "Okay."

***

The first ray of sunlight in the early morning jumped out from the window. Song Yunhui picked up the cup of coffee and touched it, then put it down again.

It's cold.

He stood up slowly, his mind beginning to become increasingly dizzy.

It's easy to forget about time when you're busy.

He opened the door of the recording studio, lay down on the bed, and fell asleep.

It was already mid-afternoon when I woke up again, again because of a phone call.

Song Yunhui fumbled with his phone and tapped it to answer the call.

"Song Yunhui, come back to me!"

The sound suddenly exploded in his ears. Song Yunhui sat up and put the phone in his hand away.

He rubbed his ears and slowly realized who was facing him.

It was Song Cheng, his father.

Turning down the volume of the phone, he slowly got up and said,

"Hello, no reply."

I can't tell how hurt I was by that word. The voice on the other side got louder instead of decreasing. "Look at what you've done! It's because of you that Zishu is being prejudiced against now. You know what kind of life he led before, so why can't you be more considerate..."

Throwing the phone casually on the sofa, Song Yun went back to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

My mind finally cleared up.

He initially estimated that the other party must have learned about the online events from someone else and felt that his bad reputation had implicated Song Zishu.

When I came back, the other person had probably just finished speaking and took a breath.

Song Yunhui still said the same thing, "No."

It didn't cause any trouble for Song Zishu, but it did bring some traffic to Song Zishu.

The novel correctly defines him as a tool and cannon fodder.

Slowly nestling into the sofa, he listened to the other person talking.

The other party said that if he didn't go back this time, he would never be able to enter the Song family again.

"Yeah, okay."

Song Yunhui's voice was very steady and natural, so natural that the other party was unable to react for a moment to what he had said.

"Your room...what did you say?"

"I said, OK."

Call ended.

Putting down his phone, Song Yunhui randomly pulled a piece of clothing from the closet, put it on, put on a hat and a mask, and went out.

It's almost evening now, and more people are going out for a stroll after dinner. Children are jumping in front, and parents are holding their phones behind, smiling and taking pictures.

Having walked around here several times, Song Yunhui roughly remembered the route.

It is getting dark now and the lights on both sides of the street have been turned on.

Song Yunhui walked into the bank.

When the bank staff saw his attire, they were startled at first, then became alert.

Song Yunhui pulled down his mask and said, "Hello, I'm Song Yunhui who made the appointment for the transfer."

It was obvious that he had not put much effort into dressing up. His hair was messy because of his hat, and there was a dark spot under his eyes, showing obvious signs of staying up late.

He just stands here, still a natural luminous body.

Do they have an impression of this person, either online or in real life?

The counter staff checked the accounts, and then the bank manager came over and took Song Yun back to the reception room.

Song Yunyang lowered his head and began to sign various documents.

He showed no expression. The manager was a little nervous. He looked at the amount on the other party's paper and resisted the urge to rub his hands.

He is indeed a rich man.

When signing his name, Song Yunhui did not hesitate at all.

As the last stroke of the pen was made, he looked at the paper in his hand, the amount, and his signature.

The home I had owned for more than a decade, and my father who was once gentle and steady.

Sometimes they would not contact each other for several months, and he had not heard the other party speak to him seriously and gently for a long time. He seemed to have almost forgotten how great his father was in his mind when he was very young.

All the previous memories and all my efforts have turned into a string of numbers.

After signing, the manager looked at them one by one, put them away, and Song Yunhui stood up and left.

There were more people on the street. He walked on the street. Although he hadn't eaten for almost a day, he didn't feel hungry at all.

Go back.

Song Yun turned around.

"Wholesale store owner."

A recognizable voice came from the crowd.

Amid the busy traffic and the city lights, a figure walked towards this side through the crowd.

He is still that cool guy who looks handsome no matter from which angle.

Qin Shu approached, and Song Yunhui could see the other person's eyes by slightly raising his head from this angle.

He said, "What a coincidence! You are also here to do business."

Cool guy slightly turned his head to avoid Song Yunhui's sight and said, "Have you eaten yet? Let's go eat together. Chengzi is still in the hospital. We can pick him up right after dinner."

Song Yun asked back: "What's the matter, Chengzi?"

"Check it regularly." Qin Shu said, "It has been wanting you to play with it again for a long time."

After exhaling, Song Yun slightly curved his eyebrows and asked:

"Want to eat hot pot?"

Qin Shu's eyes scanned the other person's face and said, "Eat."

The two found a hot pot restaurant nearby.

The decoration here is not as high-end as many other stores, but there are a lot of people, most of them are families or friends having dinner together. You can feel the liveliness across the street.

The two went in together.

People who come here to eat hot pot all choose to sit in the lobby. There is only one private room left, which is just enough for two people to sit in.

Although we had eaten hotpot at previous crew gatherings, the feeling was completely different from what we have now.

Qin Shu had never eaten hot pot before.

The two of them huddled together to discuss ordering food, ordered a bunch of random dishes, and finally put down their pens with satisfaction.

The drinks were served first. The waiter entered the room carrying two bottles of strawberry milk, paused for a moment before opening the door, and then approached.

He hesitated for a moment, and Song Yunhui said at the right time: "It's ours, we are in the right place."

The waiter put the strawberry milk on the table, and seeing that the two people were fine, he left with peace of mind.

Song Yunhui held his chin and watched Qin Shu open the strawberry milk without changing his expression.

He stretched out his hand, and with his other hand he smoothly operated the phone to turn on the camera, and said:

"Cheers!"

Qin Shu laughed and obeyed the order.

The two bottles of strawberry milk collided with each other in the air.