After Song Anmin got married, every time Song Rongrong returned home, she could feel her grandparents' hesitant gazes.
Song Rongrong pretended not to see and buried her head in her food. She returned to Heping Lane almost every week, and spent the rest of the time living by the river.
After the height of summer, autumn arrives once again.
I can still vividly recall this time last year; she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a cup of tea.
As I relaxed my eyes, I saw an SUV appear downstairs.
A somewhat familiar figure got off the bus.
Perhaps it was a premonition.
Wearing a mask, Ying Zhengqing looked up and saw the people on the fourth floor.
Song Rongrong slammed the window shut and drew the curtains as well.
Since the last time she ran into Ying Zhengqing when she opened the door, Song Rongrong has never seen him again.
We've only met a handful of times.
Song Rongrong was sitting on the sofa when she heard footsteps on the stairs outside the door. It seemed that the people outside had stopped.
Song Rongrong put down her teacup.
After a while, there was a knock on the door.
Song Rongrong did not make a move.
The person outside said again, "I brought you something and left it at the door. If you don't want to see me, come out and get it later."
Immediately afterwards, there was the sound of people going upstairs.
Song Rongrong went straight into the study.
Separated by doors and walls, away from the main gate.
It seemed that she had distanced herself from the things that troubled and frustrated her.
Zhang Shu once asked Song Rongrong if she had any feelings for Ying Zhengqing.
At first, Song Rongrong was able to deny it immediately.
But these two times, she wasn't sure.
Ying Zhengqing is different from Yan Huai. Yan Huai is persistent and clingy, as if he is afraid that Song Rongrong will not dislike him.
But when Ying Zhengqing looked over with his misty eyes, Song Rongrong's words of rejection and sharp tongue seemed to be strangled. She couldn't scold Ying Zhengqing the way she scolded Yan Huai.
It seems that she really hurt Ying Zhengqing's pride during that argument downstairs.
Song Rongrong frowned in distress. She hated others causing her trouble, which meant she had to spend time and energy dealing with it. She tried to ignore it, but to little avail. She pretended not to see it, but the trouble still existed and seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.
Song Rongrong suddenly stood up, took a deep breath, strode around and left the study, opening the front door directly.
There was a paper bag on a low cabinet by the wall outside the door.
Song Rongrong took it.
There were two books inside.
It was Arrogance and Prejudice translated by a translator she really liked.
When she and Zhang Shu first had dinner with Ying Zhengqing, she casually mentioned that many bookstores in the capital did not carry this book.
Song Rongrong glanced at the stairs leading upstairs.
He took his things inside and closed the door.
She put the two books in the cabinet on top of the balcony, in the very corner.
At the end of October, the interview program that Song Rongrong and her team were in charge of also came to an end, and the remaining work was handed over to the director and editor.
Producer Jiang immediately assigned them the next task.
This time, the task of filming a promotional video for the capital was assigned to Gao Han and Song Rongrong, while Zhang Shu, his good work partner, was assigned to do other things.
Zhang Shu and Song Rongrong were very reluctant to part ways; it was the first time they had separated after working together for so long.
Gao Han joked that they weren't divorced or separated.
Song Rongrong patted Zhang Shu on the shoulder, "We can still meet up after get off work."
After being comforted by Song An'an, Zhang Shu went to do other things.
The higher-ups have high requirements for this promotional video shoot; it must be completed to a high standard.
Song Rongrong, who never works overtime, was forced to leave work at seven or eight o'clock every day and spend her days running around with Gao Han and the recording crew.
In the dead of winter, Comrade Song Rongrong, with her iron-willed body, finally succumbed to the flu, developing a fever and catching a cold.
On Christmas Day, it was snowing.
Song Rongrong drifted back to the riverside, her head spinning. Her bag contained the medicine the doctor had prescribed for her earlier.
She went back to the fourth floor, and in her exhaustion, she didn't notice the people on the second floor at all.
Ying Zhengqing's encounter with Song Rongrong today was purely coincidental. He guessed that, given Song Rongrong's clever and mischievous nature, she must have seen him. She must have been anxious, but in the snow, one cannot walk quickly and can only move slowly. Since Song Rongrong acted this way, there was even less way for Ying Zhengqing to see her.
Ying Zhengqing waited downstairs for a while, intending to go upstairs after Song Rongrong entered the house.
He heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.
1, 2, 3...
Then nothing happened.
Ying Zhengqing gradually frowned.
He went upstairs and reached the third or fourth floor. There he saw Song Rongrong sliding down the door, her back against it, her face flushed and her eyes tightly closed.
"Song Rongrong!"
In a panic, Ying Zhengqing rushed over, touched Song Rongrong's forehead, cursed under his breath, grabbed his bag, and carried her downstairs.
Song Rongrong has a fever of 39.5 degrees Celsius.
When she woke up, all she saw was a snow-white ceiling.
How are you feeling?
Song Rongrong looked in the direction of the sound.
Ying Zhengqing, wearing a baseball cap, sat on a chair by the bed, frowning as he looked at her.
Song Rongrong's throat felt like it was on fire, and she asked in a hoarse voice, "You brought me to the hospital?"
Ying Zhengqing hummed in response, his tone not very good, "You fainted right in front of your house. If I hadn't come back, you don't know how long you would have been lying there."
There was a draft in the hallway, and Song Rongrong had a high fever; in severe cases, she could even become paralyzed.
Song Rongrong, who was a bit heavy-headed, simply said, "Thank you."
Ying Zhengqing pursed his lips. "The doctor said you need to have another IV drip."
It's 11 p.m. now, and by the time I finish my IV drip and get home, it will be past midnight.
Song Rongrong didn't want to trouble Ying Zhengqing. "I'm already awake. If you have something to do, you can go back first. I'll be fine here."
Ying Zhengqing lifted his eyelids slightly. "I'm not that cold-blooded."
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