[the 15th story]

[Fengqing · fanwai]

At the end of the tenth (gloomy) plane, the boy slightly supported his white chin, drooped his eyes quietly in the air, and his eyes were always indifferent and empty, as if he would not put anything in his heart.

Space distortion, gradually appeared the girl's body shape.

Feng tilt slightly lift eyes, look unchanged, a pair of beautiful eyes but stop in the girl's body.

"Can the adult's soul revive for a while?"

She seemed to be asking casually.

The system did not answer.

The young man looked at her in silence and saw that the girl seemed stunned for a moment, and then picked up her eyebrows:

"can wake up, but don't want to come back?"

Hidden in the air of juvenile eyelashes tremble, silent low eyes, look quiet.

How to explain it.

He was quiet for a long time before he pursed his lips.

The girl's figure disappears again in the space, the young man supports the forehead side with one hand.

In the system of a little nervous and nervous, his voice still can not hear the emotion:

"seems angry."

I'm angry.

The system didn't answer, but Feng Qing was very clear.

She was brought up by himself, and he knew that the little girl would hardly reveal her feelings. She was not aggrieved, nor tired.

Always clever and obedient, if just as suddenly silent and quiet, it means that she is sad, or sad, or angry.

Angry

The young man droops his eyes slightly, showing a trace of bewilderment between his quiet looks. He closes a pair of beautiful eyes, but his tone is almost murmuring:

" What to do. "

For a long time.

He opened his eyes and walked slowly.

The surrounding god space slowly dissipated, and the scenery in front of me began to clear up.

This is a familiar small plane.

He was standing in front of the door of a villa.

Quiet for a moment, the slender boy gently pushed the door in, raised his eyes and looked into the room.

There was no one in the big living room.

He pursed his lips and walked up the escalator through a less familiar corridor.

He doesn't often come back here, so he looks at the layout here, vaguely unfamiliar.

There are not many traces of human activity in this house, and only a small part of the kitchen is used.

Used bowls have been washed, neatly placed in the cupboard, clean with small water droplets.

The garbage left over from the meal was also cleaned up, and the garbage bags were well placed in the corner, and they were taken away and thrown away when they went out the next day.

There was only one room at the end of the corridor.

But there are two.

Another clean and tidy room, no one to live in, just empty.

The boy stood outside the empty room, stopped for a while, then walked to the end of the corridor.

He stopped at the door and stood still for a few seconds.

Then gently push the door open.

The room was large, but the light was not on. There was no one in the indoor living room. Turning around the living room, I saw a little girl on the big bed.

She frowned and fell asleep.

The clothes in the wardrobe are neatly numbered, and the exercise books are put in the corner of the table, and the pens are on them.

Close your eyes, as if you can imagine how she came back alone, quietly cooked meals, eat, wash dishes, clean up the garbage, come back to the room to do homework, and then quietly put away the exercise books, bath, climb into bed, cover the quilt, close your eyes and go to bed.

This process may always be quiet.

The boy stood quietly in front of the bed, his eyes stopped on the girl who was frowning and sleeping.

He bent over.

Thin and bright red lips, petals generally fall gently, printed on the girl's white forehead.

"Don't hate me."

He said in a low voice.

....

"Please."

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