"I feel sorry for you," Mr.
Shi snorted coldly, "Why don't you ask her if she ever felt sorry for me and her mother who passed away due to illness two years ago when she left home without any reason seven years ago?"
The old man was in good spirits, and his words were strong and powerful, but he was extremely thin.
His eyes were filled with anger, cold and without warmth.
He continued: "It's good for this girl.
She left us and my mother alone and ran to Hong Kong to become unrealistic singers and movie stars.
She hasn't been home once in 7 years."
"Mr.
Shi, maybe there are difficulties in love."
Jian Yi moved her lips, but she hesitated to speak.
"Difficulties" Jian Yi threw the whip lightly, walked to Shi Yin'ai and squatted down.
Shi Yin'ai tried hard to open his still sore eyes, trying to get a clear look at him.
Jian Yi's face, which always had a bit of a smile, seemed to be covered with a thin layer of frost at this moment.
Her dark eyes looked at Shi Yin'ai's eyes with some deep emotions, and her eyes were on Shi Yin'ai's scarred face.
After turning around on his back, he pursed his thin lips.
He wanted to lift Shi Yin'ai horizontally, but he was afraid of touching the injury on her back, so he had to carefully lift her up and lean against him.
Shi Yin'ai weakly leaned her head on his neck, and the warm and soft touch carried a pleasant sweet fragrance, drifting past the tip of Hua Ting's nose.
The strength between Jian Yi's palms made Shi Yin'ai twitch the corner of his mouth in relief, and his overwhelmed body finally relaxed.
Why does Jian Yi care so much about Shi Yin Ai?
There was an inexplicable astringency in Hua Ting's throat, and she raised her feet and walked towards him.
Jian Yi lowered his head and glanced at Shi Yin'ai's pale face, with sweat sticking to his forehead.
He frowned, and tightened his arms around her, and walked straight into the door, kneeling at the door.
The servant took a step forward, opened his mouth in embarrassment and looked at Master Shi standing aside.
Jian Yi glanced sideways at the doorman and narrowed his eyes.
The doorman stopped talking and did not dare to say anything more.
He watched Jian Yi lead Shi Yin'ai towards the house.
Hua Ting followed behind and looked at the two figures walking into the light.
One was slender and tall with graceful steps, and the other half a head shorter was nestling into his arms with slender steps.
Such a scene was harmonious and contradictory.
It was originally a very tender scene, but in Hua Ting's eyes, there was an inexplicable astringency.
An unspeakable astringency.
It's so full and swollen that it makes people feel uncomfortable.
She followed Jian Yi, but for the first time, he completely forgot about her existence.
Shi Yin'ai was lying on the floor in the room, her green dress was pulled down to her waist, her sleeves were rolled up loosely on her arms, and her black hair was pulled aside, revealing her white waist with a beautiful curvature. , but there are staggered whip marks on it.
The blood stains have been carefully cleaned and wiped away, but the redness and swelling have not faded.
There are still several places where the skin and flesh are turned out, such as a piece of fine mutton-fat jade with deep cracks. , it looks quite shocking.
Jian Yi sat next to Shi Yin'ai, holding a tube of white porcelain ointment in her left hand.
She dipped some ointment on the two fingers of her right hand, then leaned over and applied it carefully on her injured area.
This was the first time Hua Ting had seen Jian Yi's careful and nervous look.
After applying the ointment, he washed his hands in the copper basin next to him, then took the bamboo silk fan beside him and gently fanned her bare back to relieve the heat.
Then his eyes turned to Hua Ting and said, "Sister Hua Ting" , why did you come to the Gu family ancestral hall?"
Hua Ting was stunned, looking at his cautious look, a smile flashed in her eyes, "I want to check and supervise, so I want to come here to watch the show."
Shi Yin'ai slowly opened his eyes and said in a low voice: "I'm afraid there won't be any theater here in the next month."
"Why" Jian Yixiao: "You also saw Master Shi's temper just now."
"Oh, what's going on?"
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In fact, Hua Ting knew what was going on, so she just asked casually, staring at the scars on Shi Yin'ai's back, which were so full that they almost took up the entire back.
It seemed that she was itching after applying the medicine.
Shi Yinai turned her hand back and wanted to scratch it.
Jian Yi gently pressed her hand and increased the intensity of the fan.
Hua Ting turned away her eyes and seemed a little at a loss.
"Master Shi didn't know Yin'ai's identity.
She left home 7 years ago and went to Hong Kong where she lurked for seven years."
The person who knows the most about Shi Yin'ai is Jian Yi.
Hua Ting was not surprised and just responded lightly: "Oh."
"I am indeed unfilial.
I only found out today that my mother passed away the year before last year," Shi Yinai said with a self-deprecating chuckle.
"I have been afraid to go home for the past few days.
I was thinking about how to face my father, but I also expected that it would inevitably happen.
Dun family law."
A few sad tunes could be heard faintly outside the house.
Hua Ting looked out of this square hollow window.
Mr.
Shi was wearing a washed and faded green cloth gown.
He was sitting in the deep shadow of the stage, babbling and playing the erhu.
His short gray hair stuck to his scalp, and he was wearing a green shirt.
It's not too short, but it can't hide his slender figure.
His back is slightly hunched, and his face, which is full of years, doesn't have much expression.
The Jin Ling Robe was played very skillfully, as if it had been practiced many times, but the sound was sometimes strong and sometimes weak, and the strength was not very stable.
She suddenly felt a little emotional.
In this era, how many dignified, virtuous and well-educated girls would rather give up their enviable smooth life and choose to devote themselves to the national crisis without risking their lives.
They are mentally prepared not to be understood by the world and walk on the edge of the knife every day.
On the road, with the determination to sacrifice his life, he fought for the country until the last moment.
In Hua Ting's eyes, Shi Yin'ai and Jian Yi are two people who are well-matched in the true sense.
They have clear political thoughts, consistent goals, and a very tacit understanding of their sense of belonging to the country.
Such two people are natural. should come together.
But why is there an inexplicable astringency in my heart?
Jian Yi, who was next to Shi Yin'ai, was wearing a light-colored suit with hidden patterns.
When he leaned down, the gold chain of his pocket watch was dangling, and he was seen brushing away a bunch of waist-long hair from Shi Yin'ai's back. , and continued to fan her.
A touch of sourness gently passed over Hua Ting's face.
She tossed her hair carelessly and raised her voice: "Then I'll leave first."
A pair of eyes were fixed on Jian Yi's body, shining a little.
It's unclear what the meaning is.
Turn around and leave.
"Sister Hua, wait."
Her figure paused almost invisible at the door frame, but ignored him.
After walking out of the gate of the ancestral hall, the car was waiting outside.
Just as Hua Ting was about to get in the car, her arm was gently pulled by Jian Yi behind her: "Why are you walking so fast to eat to go to Sister Hua?"
Hua Ting deliberately chose a relatively simple street restaurant.
The narrow storefront could only accommodate two or three rectangular tables.
The rest were placed on the street.
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Jian Yi, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, sat at the oil-soaked wooden table.
Clearly looking out of place.
The boss happily wrote down the food ordered by everyone, winked at the counter, and sent the waiter who had just woken up to run to the street to buy twenty taels of wontons.
"Sister Hua, I'm afraid it's not hygienic here.
Why don't you go eat steak?"
Jian Yi looked around and saw the same greasy wooden tables.
"Eat noodles."
Hua Ting responded lazily, with a drawl at the end.
She lowered her head and ate the noodles seriously, her eyebrows lowered indifferently.
Jian Yi opened her chopsticks and served a bowl of hot seafood noodles.
Before doing so, she did not forget to remind Hua Ting: "Be careful of getting burned."
Seeing that Hua Ting didn't speak, Jian Yi glanced at her carefully and said, "Why, I'm in a bad mood."
The low tone at the end was a little too gentle.
Hua Ting said nothing, and her eyebrows were still light.
“It’s what happened at the casino last time.”
"Casino," Hua Ting said softly, twitching her lips, "What's the matter?"
"Dragon Gang" "Oh," she raised her head, raised her chin, and a hint of slyness flashed in her eyes as she pursed her lips and smiled, "Isn't it solved?"
Jian Yi seemed a little unconvinced, "The rumors are true that Miss Bai killed five perpetrators in a row without blinking."
"That's right," she smiled and tapped the rim of his bowl with her chopsticks, "you, the pillow person, still need to hear the rumors."
"It just doesn't feel like your style."
"Then what should my style be?"
She stopped using her chopsticks and looked at him.
"Well, with your temperament" "Bai Qihong was there that day, what should I do with my temper?"
Hua Ting taught him to understand with just one word.
Looking at the eyes staring at him, Jian Yi smiled and said, "Learn to be smart."
"Thanks."
"Based on your past temperament, you will definitely have a head-on confrontation with Mr.
Bai."
"Okay, stop talking," Hua Ting stretched out her chopsticks to stir the wonton noodles impatiently, because she had lost her appetite.
"Tell me about your love with Shi Yin."
"I love Shi Yin" "Um."
Hua Ting felt annoyed by the inexplicable sourness in her heart.
For the first time she felt distraught.
The restaurant next to it was bustling with people, and a babbling song could be faintly heard among the noise.
It was a song by Su Kun in The Peach Blossom Fan.
"I once saw the orioles singing in the jade trees in Jinling, and the flowers blooming early in the waterside pavilions in Qinhuai.
Who knew how easy it would be to freeze?
I watched him build the Zhulou, watched him entertain guests, and watched his building collapse.
I once slept in this moss-green tile pile.
Sleep, put five Watch the rise and fall of the past ten years.
There is no one named Wang in Wuyi Lane; ghosts cry at night in Mochou Lake; the dream of owl birds perched on the broken mountain is the most real.
If you don’t believe it, it’s hard to lose this map.
Mourning the south of the Yangtze River, let out a sad voice and sing until old age."
To be continued n130418: