Chapter 12
Song Youran bought a lot of games using Wen Chu's mobile phone. He lay on the sofa to play, but he complained that the sofa was too hard.
Wen Chu found him some cushions to stuff under his chest and elbows. "Are you feeling better now?"
Song Youran looked unhappy, but she didn't find any more faults.
"Never mind, that's it."
Wen Chu did not relax, but opened his tablet and browsed sofas on the shopping platform.
I want to be as soft as a cloud, Wen Chuxin thought.
Song Youran's hands were busy on the screen of her mobile phone. In her peripheral vision, Wen Chu was actually playing with a tablet. Song Youran certainly couldn't let him be idle, so she ordered him to feed her.
If you do this kind of thing many times, you will get used to it, and vice versa.
Wen Chu put down the tablet, picked up a bag of nuts and walked to Song Youran.
Song Youran stared at her phone intently, her mind on the game. Wen Chu squatted beside her, took out a nut and put it to Song Youran's mouth.
Song Youran opened her mouth and ate it, and Wen Chu took another one and handed it to her.
One of them feeds the baby while the other eats, which shows that they work together very well.
After eating more than a dozen, Song Youran stopped opening her mouth. Wen Chu then held the snack bag and stretched his neck to watch Song Youran play games.
The game ended, and Song Youran put down her phone. Seeing her first love reluctantly looking away, she suddenly asked, "Am I good?"
Wen Chu said without thinking: "Great."
There was no expression on her face, similar to when Xie Xueruo said, "I'm doing this for your own good."
Xie Xueruo didn't control the rope between them well, which made him want to escape;
He would not let the same thing happen again, and would definitely hold the rope that tied Wen Chu tightly with extra care.
Wen Chu's shoulder was hit by a phone. He looked up and saw Song Youran standing on the sofa, looking down at him and saying, "Hypocrisy!"
Song Youran was so angry and stood so tall.
Wen Chu had to raise his neck with great effort to see Song Youran's angry face.
This is often the case. Song Youran suddenly loses her temper for no reason, and he doesn't even know why.
Wen Chu picked up the dropped phone while thinking. He needed some time to think about what to do next.
Song Youran noticed Wen Chu's actions and became increasingly angry. Not only did Wen Chu ignore his emotions, he also had the leisure to do other things!
Song Youran raised her foot.
Wen Chu had just been hit on the shoulder by a cell phone, and now he was kicked. He couldn't control his body and fell to the ground.
Song Youran stepped barefoot on the sofa, bent down, and pinched Wen Chu's face with her fingers: "Are you going to cry?"
Wen Chu wanted to shake her head, but the flesh on her face was pinched and it hurt. She could only try her best to relax the muscles around her lips and said softly, "Don't cry."
Song Youran released her hand, put her five fingers together and patted her tender cheek, which had two red fingerprints, and said insultingly, "Don't cry. I don't like it, okay?"
Her long eyelashes trembled, and Wen Chu nodded: "I won't cry."
Wen Ji always cried, and cried endlessly. Whenever he cried, Song Mei would hug him and comfort him: "My dear, you've broken my heart."
Wen Chu also wanted to be hugged by Song Mei, so he stood beside her and tried hard to squeeze out tears, but he really had no talent for crying.
The old people in the Wen family said that Wen Chu was very strange. He didn't cry or make a fuss when he was born, and people thought he was mute. Unlike Wen Ji, he cried loudly as soon as he was born, and every cry was earth-shaking and full of energy.
Song Mei treats Wen Chu and Wen Ji differently.
When they were young, they went to the amusement park together. Song Mei held Wen Ji's hand, and the nanny held Wen Chu's hand. Wen Chu also wanted to hold Song Mei's hand, but Song Mei said that her mother was very tired and could only hold one child at a time.
Wen Chu waited and waited, until finally Wen Ji impatiently shook off Song Mei's hand and asked Song Mei to hold his hand.
Song Mei said impatiently: "Mom is very tired, let the nanny hold you!"
Every time, every time, every time...it's like this.
Song Mei's hands and Song Mei's arms will always belong to Wen Ji.
Wen Chu wanted to cry, but he could only think about it.
The old people say that crying children get milk. It’s not that he doesn’t like to cry, he just can’t cry.
Wen Chu heard his parents arguing outside the study. Song Mei wanted to send him to his grandfather's house in City A, but his father disagreed.
Song Mei said, "With the eldest son being in that state, what's the point of keeping him at home? It would be better to send him to my dad. Since he loves to fight, let him fight that illegitimate child."
Later, my father agreed.
Wen Chu didn't want to go to City A, so he hid in the closet in his room. He didn't know how to fall asleep, but when he woke up, he felt his face was wet. Wen Chu was so happy that he could finally cry! But the nanny said it was sweat because the closet was too stuffy.
Wen Chu didn't believe what the nanny said, but the fact was that he never succeeded in crying again.
But grandpa said that Wen Chu was doing well like this. If he didn't cry or laugh, and if he could control his eyes, he could truly keep his emotions under control.
Wen Chu didn't want to be a wooden man. He wanted to be like Song Youran, crying when he wanted to cry and laughing when he wanted to laugh.
Wen Chu had never seen Song Youran's tears, but he had heard her cry. From childhood to adulthood, Song Youran only cried in front of Xie Xueruo, and only Xie Xueruo had seen his tears; what Wen Chu had seen most was Song Youran's anger and sneer.
In fact, Wen Chu would not cry without Song Youran's order. He had no tears and could not squeeze them out.
Song Youran is a living person with distinct emotions. His mood is like a roller coaster, sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes falling to the bottom, and sometimes rushing to the top.
After he finished his tantrum, his face returned to calm. He lay on the sofa with his hands behind his head and asked Wen Chu about the things sent by the Wen family.
Wen Chu took Song Youran to the warehouse on the first floor, "Everything is here."
The key unlocked the door, revealing shelves and boxes inside.
Song Youran frowned as she walked between the shelves. She casually opened a small box, and inside lay a sapphire collar pin.
“What a waste!”
Song Youran took out the collar pin and put it in her pocket.
In addition to toys and jewelry, there are also clothes, shoes and socks, all of which look new.
Song Youran opened the box and found a white game console box lying on the top. It was a model from three years ago. She didn't know if it could still be used.
When going out, Wen Chu handed the warehouse key to Song Youran.
Song Youran glanced at the key and said angrily, "You think I'm a beggar!"
Wen Chu said "no" and took the key back, but Song Youran's face became even worse.
Song Youran's mood once again plummeted, his shoes making a clattering sound on the stairs. He refused to go to Wen Chu's room to play, and sat at the desk, feeling lonely as snow, tearing up a piece of white paper.
There was a hurdle in his heart. He stood on it and saw torrents on both sides.
There was a knock on the door, and Song Youran pulled it open forcefully.
It was indeed Wen Chu outside the door, holding a small box in his hand.
"For you."
Song Youran wasn't interested and said coldly, "Get lost!"
Wen Chu insisted on putting the box in his hands and said, "Take a look."
Song Youran was annoyed: "I'll see it if you let me!" She slammed the box against the wall of the corridor.
The box split in two, the lid popped open, and its contents fell out, a key tied with a red bow.
The key to the warehouse was carefully dressed up.
But still rejected.
Wen Chu squatted on the ground and picked up the keys and box silently.
He has tried very hard, why is it still not working?
Song Youran said that she wanted to be a person who was loyal to herself and had a clear distinction between love and hate, but in reality, Song Youran was hypocritical and her words were insincere.
Is he pushing away something he wants because of his pride or because the person who gave it to him is wrong?
If it was Chen Feng who gave him the key this time, would he still throw the key away?
Wen Chu buried his face in his arms.
A mushroom grew in the corridor, alone, gray in color, and looked poisonous.
Song Youran took a deep breath and thought, forget it.
“Give it to me!”
Wen Chu looked up and saw Song Youran standing in front of him, looking down at him with a questioning look in her eyes.
"Key!" Song Youran reminded impatiently.
Wen Chu quickly handed over the thing in his hand.
Song Youran ignored the small box and just took the key.
Song Youran held the key in her palm, and the red ribbon emerged from her palm like a smear of blood.
Song Youran lowered her eyes to look at Wen Chu, who was squatting on the ground: "Don't cry!"
"I didn't cry."
Wen Chu reached out his hand, touched the corners of his dry eyes with his fingertips, and repeated: "I didn't cry."
Song Youran snorted coldly: "You can't even cry in your heart."
Wen Chu was stunned.
After getting the warehouse key, Song Youran became extremely busy. After finishing her daily tutoring, she would go into the warehouse and stay for a while.
The servant reported the matter to Xie Xueruo, and on a sunny afternoon, Xie Xueruo came to the villa.
The door should not only be closed but also locked.
Song Youran sat behind the desk away from the sofa.
Xie Xueruo was still the same, with a cold expression, and her words and actions were all about thinking about others.
Song Youran laughed: "Mom, you can ask the chef not to prepare dinner for me, or even breakfast and lunch. It doesn't matter. I won't starve to death, because you not only gave me a name, but also gave me a good nephew.
"You can find someone to watch over me, but you can't watch over Wen Chu. He doesn't have to listen to you, he doesn't have to read your eyes, he can do whatever he wants, and he will give me whatever I want.
"I have another good news for you, Mom. I've grown taller. Are you scared?"
Song Youran stood up, and the boy's figure showed the strength of a young man, and all that had been suppressed and imprisoned broke out.
Song Youran grabbed the rope around her neck and pulled it. As long as Xie Xueruo didn't let go of the rope, it was hard to say who would be restrained.
"Mom, if you don't want to be forced to leave City A and start your life over again, it's best not to mess with me. I have a really bad temper, and I don't know what I'll do when I'm impulsive."
Wen Chu found Song Youran in the warehouse. He was holding up his cell phone and taking pictures of the goods on the table.
Yes, merchandise.
Song Youran put the things in the warehouse online. Although some of them were outdated, they were of good quality and low price, and they sold out faster than expected.
As the shelves gradually emptied, Song Youran said, "Next time He Yuan brings something over, keep it all. Don't let it go to waste."
"good."
Wen Chu leaned over to look at Song Youran's phone screen, and after a moment, he said, "I'll take a picture for you, okay?"
Song Youran hesitated: "Can you?"
Wen Chu said "yes" and reached out to take Song Youran's phone.
Song Youran pointed at the items she had selected on the chairs and on the floor and said, "I want to take pictures of all of these."
Wen Chu downloaded the photo-taking software again and nodded in agreement.
After the task was handed over, Song Youran returned to the room swinging her sore arm.
When he woke up, the sky outside the window was already dark and the alarm clock on the bedside table showed that he had slept for two hours.
Wen Chu's door was wide open, casting a white light on the floor of the corridor.
Song Youran walked over and saw Wen Chu sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the room, editing photos with a tablet.
The photos on the screen were indeed better looking than the ones he took.
Song Youran read for a while, then twisted her neck and walked to the sofa. She picked up the novel on the sofa, flipped through a few pages, and asked Wen Chu, "Do you understand it?"
Wen Chu took the time to look up and replied, "I understand." He continued to edit the picture with his head down.
Song Youran glanced at Wen Chu's face with a sly look: "Do you understand sex or feelings?"
Wen Chu said, "I understand everything."
Song Youran clearly didn't believe it and angrily cursed, "You haven't even grown all your hair yet, how can you understand anything?"
Wen Chu: “…”
Wen Chu edited the photos, Song Youran uploaded them to the Internet, and set the product prices. It was already completely dark.
Song Youran dropped her phone and stretched. Her eyes flicked to Wen Chu, who was sitting on the ground like a pug. She rubbed her cheek and said, "What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?"
Unexpectedly, Wen Chu nodded. Song Youran slapped him, and his fingers passed through the fluffy hair, leaving a distinct touch.
"Come here." Song Youran hooked her finger at Wen Chu.
Wen Chu shook his head and sat on the ground without moving.
Song Youran spread out her five fingers, grabbed the person in front of her like an eagle's claws, held down the restless head, and rubbed the soft hair hard.
The black, fluffy hair spread out between the fingers, like frozen snow, which was lifted into the air with a shovel, fluttering down one by one.
Wen Chu's neck was stiff and his eyes were wide open. Song Youran rubbed his head until his eyes narrowed.
He carefully observed Song Youran's expression and rubbed his head against Song Youran's palm. Song Youran didn't notice. He then exhaled gently, closed his eyes, and leaned boldly into Song Youran's arms.
Song Youran did not refuse and let him put his arms around her waist.
He vaguely smelled a scent from deep within his memory, fragrant and soft. He buried his face in the warm chest and hummed softly, "Mom..."
After being slapped on the head, Song Youran pinched his face and cursed, "I'm your father!"
it hurts!
He leaned back, and Song Youran's fingers followed closely, pinching harder. He didn't dare touch Song Youran's naughty hands. He gently parted his lips and called out weakly, "Dad."
The father is stupid.
The son quickly retreated, stroking his pinched red cheeks and breathing in continuously, his eyes turning red from the pain.
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