Chapter 707 Heartbeat

Plan's cheeks couldn't help but get slightly hot. Even after leaving the Accor Arena and entering the subway, the blush still couldn't dissipate.

She couldn't believe that she did this, she actually did this.

"God!"

Plan couldn't help but lower his head to hide his slightly flushed cheeks to avoid being seen as embarrassed and awkward by others, but his excitement and joy surged up uncontrollably, as if thousands of butterflies were fluttering in his stomach. It was really hard to describe in words.

Feeling both annoyed and shy, at the same time, Plan was glad that he had done so and taken this brave step.

Bang.

The subway door closed and then started, and he left the subway station. The swaying carriage and the breeze blowing in his face cooled Plan's heated brain a little.

Suddenly, Plan realized a possibility: What if the man didn't understand her message? Or what if the man understood but didn't refuse to respond? Should she set a time limit? Twenty-four hours? Three days? Seven days? A month? Why did she put herself in this situation?

"ah……"

Thinking of this, Plan scratched her hair in annoyance. She had never done such a thing before and didn't know if it was right.

What if... What if the man doesn't respond, then she doesn't need to regret it, because at least she has tried, and it proves that they are not destined to be together, and there is no need to force it. She should be like a new-age woman and forget it gracefully.

But!

But, having said that, forgetting is forgetting, saying goodbye is saying goodbye, but the point is, isn't it too embarrassing to take the trouble to send out a signal? Plan's shoulders drooped, looking at his small leather boots, and he couldn't help but gently rub the lines on the subway car floor, as if trying to soothe his anxiety.

However, those lines are so tenacious that no matter how much they are rubbed, they remain the same and do not change at all.

Buzz buzz buzz.

At this moment, the cell phone vibrated. Plan, who was immersed in his own thoughts, was startled and almost threw the phone away reflexively.

Fortunately, the remaining rationality controlled myself.

Plan raised her head and looked around the carriage. The Parisians, immersed in their own world, did not notice her movements at all. Some were reading books, some were reading newspapers or magazines, some were looking down at their phones, and a large number of people stood there expressionlessly, revealing their tiredness from working overtime on the weekend.

Wait, does anyone in Paris work overtime on weekends?

The thought flashed through his mind, but it was fleeting, and this shouldn't be the point. Plan immediately picked up his phone and glanced at the message alert on the screen: unknown number.

When you open the text message, you will see a picture instead of text.

A piece of white paper was spread out in a broad palm, with creases clearly visible on it. It could only be spread out by pressing down a corner with the thumb. The information on the white paper was just a very simple word.

"3".

It's French.

It is obvious that he could write Arabic numerals, but he chose to write "three" in French. It is obvious that he was trying to be mysterious and needed the other party to solve the puzzle.

Buzz buzz buzz.

Along with the vibration, another message appeared.

"The third time, so you have already taken the ninety-nine steps, and the last step should be taken by me. Is that correct?"

Although it was a strange number she had never seen before, Pulan's heart still beat uncontrollably. She knew:

It's him.

It must be him.

Plop. Plop plop plop…

The beating of my heart lost its rhythm, trembling and throbbing slightly, as if I could actually feel the goose bumps popping up on the surface of my skin. There was an indescribable happiness, and then, every pore in my body seemed to be gurgling with water as if it were opened at the moment of sparkling water.

His eyes fixed on her, and he couldn't help but read the words carefully again:

He knew what she meant.

That night, Plan kept suppressing his curiosity and impulse, enduring it again and again, but in the end he couldn't help it and searched the name on the Internet.

Gao Wen.

All that came out was "The Young Knight Gawain", and then I added a word that I had heard by chance and boldly associated the two together.

Gao Wen; tennis.

The input method was still Gao Wen from the Girl Knight, but this time, the official news from ATP popped up, and she realized that the spelling should be "Gao/Wen".

A whole new world is unfolding before your eyes.

She hesitated and wandered around, not knowing whether she should go to watch the game in person.

Because she knew that once she appeared at the scene, it would mean that she had taken the most important step and created their third encounter with her own hands.

Should she do this? Shouldn't she just wait for the third chance encounter? And then prove that everything was fate? As she hesitated over and over again, she missed the match between Gawain and Raonic. When she realized that Gawain had entered the finals, before she could rationally remind herself to be reserved, the tickets for the finals had already been purchased.

Now it seems that he knows everything: he knows how much thought this step has taken her, he also knows what the "third encounter" means, and he also knows what to do next.

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Quietly, without even realizing it herself, the corners of her mouth curled up, and her mood seemed to soar into the sky as if it had wings.

From ninety-nine steps to one step, they meet again, so, what will happen next?

Buzz buzz buzz.

The third text message came again.

Plan looked down and couldn't help laughing softly.

"I know that everyone will eventually become what they hate most: tick-tick-tick."

There were no extra words, but Plan understood immediately.

When they met for the second time, Gao Wen said that he didn't want to be like a fourteen-year-old kid, sending text messages all the time and then holding his phone waiting for replies, unable to do anything, which would make him feel frustrated.

Three minutes.

It had been three minutes since the text message was sent, but Pulan still hadn't responded, so Gao Wen sent this text message with a sense of ridicule and complaint.

Plan himself was also frightened, with thoughts surging in his mind, and he was completely unaware of the passage of time. But through the text, he seemed to be able to see Gawain's expression, and in the end he couldn't help laughing out loud.

But soon, Plan realized that his laughter was out of control.

I raised my head and looked towards the subway car. A few people looked up at me, but most people were still focused on their own things and didn't make any movement.

Plan adjusted his smile slightly and looked down at the phone screen.

I thought about it carefully, wrote a bunch of words over and over again, and then deleted them all; I wrote a bunch of words again, deleted them all again, thought it over and over again, and finally wrote a few words, looked at them carefully, closed my eyes, and sent it out directly.

“Correct answer!”

Before the phone screen had time to go dark, another reply came, and it was another picture.

"Fireworks.jpg".

Involuntarily, a smile crept up on Plan's brows.

(End of this chapter)