"So after all the arguments, we decided to keep the small fountain as it is now?"
"Well, that's fine too. We're used to it anyway. More than a decade has passed, so it doesn't matter if we see it for another decade. You never know when they might get carried away and move. For example, Uncle Gu's family next door is planning to move back to Jiangcheng. My mom has had this idea in recent years, but my dad is still worried about me and my brother, so he didn't move."
"Jiangcheng... is also quite good. Do you want to go?"
Song Shengsheng shook her head. "No, I'm used to the north, so I might not be able to adapt to the south. My mom and Uncle Gu's family are from Jiangcheng, and that's where they were born and raised, and that's their hometown. But for me, a hybrid of Beijing and Jiangcheng, that might not be the case. You never know. Maybe if I get a chance to stay there for a few days, I'll fall in love with it. What about you? Do you want to go?"
"Wherever you are, there I am."
"You're sweet-talking, but if you really take back Jiang Corporation, I'm afraid you won't have time to run around anymore. You might have to be like my brother, forced to do something new and enter the business world in a suit and tie."
"I can't do this."
"Then what will you do if you take Jiang's? Who will take care of it? I can't do anything about it."
"A professional manager, or..." Jiang Yiyu smiled maliciously, "or entrust it to Song Ming."
Song Shengsheng also chuckled. She could even imagine Song Ming's angry look as he looked at the inexplicably expanded business empire and the increased workload.
"My brother will probably be pissed to death. Brother Yi Yu, have you ever regretted becoming an actor just because I said I loved the stars? If you had listened to my parents and Uncle Jiang and gone abroad to study business like my brother, maybe you would be living a different life now."
"What kind of life? If I were really like Song Ming, do you think Zhao Rong could give us the peaceful life we have now? She must have a strong sense of crisis. She makes trouble eight times a day. Who can stand that? It's so annoying that I'm going to die."
"Maybe Uncle Jiang will get annoyed if she makes a fuss every day."
"Jiang Yuan? Him?" Jiang Yiyu sneered, "He doesn't find it annoying. He just likes Zhao Rong's frail, helpless self-reliance. She devotes herself to him wholeheartedly. He feels that Zhao Rong's world wouldn't work without him. He's always believed that in Zhao Rong's eyes, he's the pinnacle of greatness, omnipotent like Superman. When Ultraman fights a small monster, he can punch three Ultramen at once."
"This is too exaggerated."
"That's not an exaggeration. He's just so self-conscious, hypocritical, arrogant, and morally corrupt. Think about Zhao Rong. Her looks are average, her temperament is okay, and her money and power are even worse. Jiang Yuan cheated on her because he wanted her to be obedient and docile, like a little bird."
"You men, do you all like this type?"
Jiang Yiyu shook his head, tilted his head back, drank the beer in the can, and crushed the can. "I don't like it. I like people with their own opinions, like you. I think it's great. Even though it can be really annoying sometimes, it doesn't matter. I like you very much."
"You can turn any words into sweet nothings." Song Shengsheng handed him the half-finished can of beer in her hand: "I can't finish it."
Jiang Yiyu took it and drank it all in one gulp, crushing the can as he went: "I'll save some later, I can sell it for money."
“Have you ever sold bottles?”
"I sold 150 plastic bottles for less than five yuan, which was not enough to buy a bottle of drink."
"The most important thing is the experience. I haven't sold any yet." Song Shengsheng took the two crushed jars from him and shook them. "How much can these two sell for?"
"It's too little. The people who do the recycling will find you annoying." Jiang Yiyu reached out and pressed the top of her head with a smile. Song Shengsheng shook the can in her hand again: "I'll ask Auntie tomorrow if there are any cans like this at home that haven't been thrown away. I'm going to sell some bottles. When I make money, I'll buy you some ice cream."
"Whatever you say." Jiang Yiyu turned around and twisted her shoulders, making her spin in a circle, facing the stairs: "It's getting late, it's time to go to bed, otherwise you won't be able to get up for breakfast tomorrow."
"You don't have to get up. No one will say anything to you." Song Shengsheng was pushed by him and walked slowly down the stairs.
Jiang Yiyu smiled and said, "In front of elders, one must be polite."
"My family doesn't have so many requirements, and you won't feel tired."
"Little friend, there are so many things you don't understand."
…
That night, Song Shengsheng had a dream. She dreamed that she was back to the age of sixteen. It was a cold winter night. Jiang Yiyu and Song Ming were standing on the rooftop together, feeling the cold wind and drinking wine. Their noses and ears were frozen red.
She went up to the rooftop holding the red scarf that she had spent half a month knitting for Jiang Yiyu and had not yet given away.
Jiang Yiyu and Song Ming looked at her and smiled gently. Song Ming asked her if she had finished her homework. She nodded. Then he asked her what she was doing upstairs in such a cold weather.
She looked down at the scarf hesitantly, her cheeks flushed, perhaps because she was cold or because she was shy. She whispered, "I want to give this to Brother Yi Yu."
She raised her eyes and glanced at Jiang Yiyu, only to see that he had no expression on his face, still looking nonchalant. He glanced at the red scarf she had knitted with a listless look and said lightly that he didn't like red.
Song Shengsheng was very sad, with grievance and sadness flooding her heart, and tears fell. Song Ming looked at her and laughed, saying that if she had nothing to do, she might as well do a few more sets of papers and stop thinking about the impossible person.
Song Shengsheng didn't believe it. She took a few steps towards Jiang Yiyu, looked at him pitifully, and handed him the scarf. Jiang Yiyu didn't take it. He even put his hands, which were red from the cold, into his pockets.
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