He goes to the park to practice breathing and goes to the old street to run. Since he came into this world, he has insisted on doing this every day without interruption.
Even after his voice was damaged and he could no longer sing, he still did not give up.
If one day he can find a way to cure his voice, he will be able to pick up the microphone and stand on the stage again.
When passing by those deserted old houses, Fang Xiaole stopped subconsciously.
He took out his cell phone, opened WeChat, and found the WeChat account with a cute little girl as the avatar.
This is Lin Yao’s WeChat.
The little girl in the avatar has a ponytail and is smiling brightly. Judging from her pretty facial features, it should be a photo of Lin Yao when she was a child.
Fang Xiaole opened Lin Yao’s WeChat and saw the last message she sent him after she returned to the hotel last night.
"I'm at the hotel, good night~(^3^)-☆"
It’s still the “Yao style” emoticons, which are a bit cute, but Fang Xiaole doesn’t quite understand what these emoticons mean.
Fang Xiaole's thumb was on the phone keyboard, but he didn't move.
It’s only seven o’clock now. Who would send WeChat messages so early?
"The sand on my fingertips, the him in my heart, the one I've been waiting for."
A gentle and sad voice sounded, and Fang Xiaole suddenly saw a message from Lin Yao.
"Are you up?"
Fang Xiaole quickly replied: "I'm up and running outside."
"Where are you running so early in the morning?"
Fang Xiaole thought for a moment and typed a reply: "It's in the park near those old houses."
Lin Yao did not send any more text messages, but sent a voice message.
Fang Xiaole clicked on it, and Lin Yao's voice came from the phone, gentle and soft with a hint of laziness, which made people imagine her wrapped in a quilt, pursing her lips, lazily lying in bed sending WeChat messages.
"Is that the old house we encountered that night? I really want to go and see it again."
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