Insomnia

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Tao Ling approached with an expressionless face, raised his hand quickly, cut off his hands, pinched his neck, pushed him forward, and pushed him against the wall: "You think I can't care?"

When Wen Qingying saw this, he took a step forward. Tao Ling shook his head at him, motioning for him to leave it alone, and tightened his grip by another three points: "Are you going to tell me?"

"You have the ability to strangle me to death!" The boy looked at Tao Ling fiercely and refused to let go.

Tao Ling looked back at Wen Qingying and saw that his mood seemed not right. He let go of his hand the next second: "Go away, don't let me see it next time."

The boy was released inexplicably, and he looked back and forth between the two of them. Seeing that they really didn't intend to press for further questions, and with a look of disappointment on their faces, he cursed unwillingly for a long time, spat on the ground again, and swaggered. He walked away in his pocket.

Tao Ling: "..."

If someone really instigated a second-rate man to smash up the store, he probably knew that Wen Qingying couldn't deal with the scoundrels, and the other party couldn't afford to pay for it. He had to take responsibility for the damage, and he couldn't even explain it. It was a complete waste of mood and energy.

The person had already disappeared, and Wen Qingying stood there with his head lowered. Tao Ling walked up to him and saw his high nose and thick eyelashes, but couldn't see his expression clearly.

This alley was surrounded by the backs of houses on both sides, so there were not many people coming and going. Tao Ling stooped awkwardly, tilted his head, and looked up from below, trying to see Wen Qingying's face clearly.

Wen Qingying still stared at the ground without looking at him. Tao Ling sighed, knowing that he probably knew who did it.

After a moment of silence, Tao Ling reached out to lift his chin, trying to get him to look at him. Wen Qingying moved very slowly and looked away.

Tao Ling clicked his tongue and used strength again. Wen Qingying did not resist this time and raised her head following the force, her eyes redder than before.

With a sigh, Tao Ling touched Wen Qingying's arm. Wen Qingying pursed her lips and looked down at him.

Tao Ling didn't understand what the flower shop meant to Wen Qingying, but he suddenly got a signal for help in Wen Qingying's eyes. He felt a little unbelievable, but his heart softened to a puddle of water at this sight. Before he had time to think, he raised his hand and pulled Wen Qingying into his arms.

After a while, Wen Qingying put her arms around Tao Ling's waist. He was taller than Tao Ling, and he arched his back slightly to allow his chin to rest on his shoulder, which seemed a little uncomfortable.

Now that he was getting closer, Tao Ling was keenly aware that Wen Qingying's hands were shaking. He moved forward distressedly and stroked his back gently.

I don't know how long it took, but a sharp trumpet sound suddenly came from the alley. Tao Ling suddenly came out of his trance. He remembered that the flower shop was still open, so he patted Wen Qingying on the back of his neck.

Wen Qingying understood, straightened up, and her eyes had returned to clear calm.

The two of them went back to the flower shop together. When they arrived, the people gathered at the door had dispersed, leaving only passersby who looked back from time to time.

The owner of the fruit shop next to him has been helping to keep an eye on the store. When he saw them coming back, the boss walked out and said with a smile: "You're back? Are you okay?"

Tao Ling smiled: "Thank you, boss. It's okay. Let's clean up."

Wen Qingying also smiled, probably guessing what the two people were talking about, and nodded to the boss to thank him.

Then the whole afternoon, the two of them were cleaning up the flower shop.

It's easy to destroy things, but rebuilding always feels like there will be no end. When Tao Ling was picking up a broken piece of ceramic on the ground, he suddenly remembered that Wen Qingying had given him an example when chatting with him before, and talked about the departure and return of the poetic tradition.

For some reason, Tao Ling had a new idea at this moment. He felt that Wen Qingying was not interested in the direction of tradition, but that he was sensitive to broken things.

Thinking about things and doing things, my fingers suddenly felt sharp and painful.

Tao Ling lowered his head and saw some blood on the white ceramic piece. He just raised his hand. Before he could see the wound clearly, Wen Qingying had already pulled him to his feet.

He was too strong and Tao Ling could only be dragged away.

He was taken to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he came out, Tao Ling was pressed on a chair. Wen Qingying took a band-aid from the drawer. Tao Ling took the opportunity to wipe his hands, but the tissue was snatched away as soon as he took it in his hand.

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