urban fascination

Chapter 608: An Alternative Vent With Hatred

Zhihao was thoroughly cleaned.

The scorched hair, Yanhong rinsed it several times, and then the scorched stubble fell off, and then I found a pair of scissors, trimmed it back and forth, and finally got the shape, short, straight upright, jagged. inevitable.

Yanhong dried Zhihao's body and led him into the living room.

The thick curtains in the living room were drawn, and all the lights in the living room were turned on, as bright as day. Zhihao Chi sat on the chair, still with a dull expression, Zhihao's dull eyes, without looking around.

Yan Hong dug out the medicine box, fortunately, there were plasters for burns and a bottle of precious badger oil.This woman is always more careful than a man, and maybe some unexpected treasures can be found in the family.

Yan Hong carefully applied the burn medicine to the red and swollen places on Zhihao's body, there were many places.Yanhong felt distressed secretly, Zhihao didn't even frowned from the beginning to the end, Yanhong knew that this stern young man must be enduring the pain, perhaps this kind of pain was far beyond human's tolerability.

After treating the burns, Yanhong found a cotton pajamas for Zhihao to put on. Of course, this was the pajamas that Hu Baiqiang used to live here. At this time, Zhihao didn't feel it at all, and he didn't even show his disgust at all.

Delicate woman, everything went so delicately and orderly, while the meal was hot, she took a quick shower, changed her wet underwear, put on her pajamas again, and Zhihao was brought to the dining table again.

Zhihao remained silent, Yanhong would eat whatever Yanhong told him to eat, and eat as much as he asked him to eat. Putting down the chopsticks in his hand, he dragged Zhihao back and forth in the living room a few times, leading Zhihao to lie down in the bedroom.

Zhihao lay quietly on the bunk, staring blankly at the roof, without saying a word.

Yan Hong let out a long sigh, without asking what happened to the man who was suddenly hit, she silently cleaned up the dining table, wrapped the clothes that were almost as charred in a plastic bag, went back to the bedroom, and lay down beside Zhihao.

The dim wall lamps in the bedroom, in warm tones, cannot arouse the romance of the man around him, let alone passion.If he is sad, there is no tear, if he is demented, there is still a normal reaction, but there is no complex reflex between men and women, Yan Hong is momentarily at a loss, at a loss.

After being silent for a long time, in Yanhong's view, it may be an hour, maybe two hours, Yanhong sighed silently, and said softly, "It's getting late, go to bed."

Zhihao didn't respond, Yanhong flicked Zhihao's face lightly, Zhihao's wide-open eyes obediently closed, Yanhong turned off the wall lamp.

As dawn approached, Yanhong was awakened by Zhihao's cry.

A cheerful "Sister Ting", followed by an extremely sad cry, seemed to bear the unbearable pain of ordinary people, and the pain pierced her heart. Yan Hong sat up in surprise, but saw Zhihao fell into a drowsy sleep again, Yan Hong Tentatively, she threw herself into Zhihao's arms, and Zhihao hugged her tightly, so tightly that Yanhong couldn't breathe, with mixed feelings, she was silent.

When Yan Hong woke up again, there was nothing around her.

Yanhong hurriedly put on her pajamas and came out, and saw Zhihao sitting silently on the sofa in the living room, obviously a change of clothes in the delicate suitcase that Zhihao brought.

Yanhong sat silently beside Zhihao.

After a while, Zhihao spoke.

Zhihao's first words were, "Yan Hong, thank you."

There was a smile on Yan Hong's face, she didn't know whether it was an excited smile or a sour smile, then she heard Zhihao say again, "Can you buy me a plane ticket?"

Yan Hong nodded cheerfully, "I'll go right away, there's milk and bread in the refrigerator, you can eat first."

Yan Hong quickly got dressed, without even washing her face, she floated downstairs.

Zhihao got up silently, walked back and forth in the living room with slow steps, like a beast that was struggling to fight, but at this moment he didn't have any fighting spirit at all, his face was full of decadence, feeling helpless, with a little something he had never felt before. At a loss, even a pair of indifferent eyes full of enthusiasm, at this time there is no gleam of brilliance.

Two hours later, Yan Hong came home with a few extra things in her hand.

Zhihao sat on the sofa in a daze, still in his underwear, the bag of burnt clothes, maybe he quietly disposed of it somewhere when Yan Hong went downstairs, Zhihao didn't pay attention, maybe he didn't care at all.

Yan Hong sat beside Zhihao silently, and handed a train ticket to Zhihao, "Zhang Zhihao, I'm sorry, I don't have a document, so I can only buy a train ticket, for the night."

"Thank you." Zhihao nodded, took the ticket, looked at it carefully for a long time, and the second sentence was, "Let's eat, I'll heat the milk."

"Shouldn't it be time for lunch?" Yan Hong said softly, "I'll cook."

Seeing that Zhihao didn't say anything else, Yanhong accosted her with a smile, "Yes, let's eat, you go to warm up the milk."

Zhihao silently entered the kitchen, and with a "pop", the natural gas stove was lit, and the small pot that had already been filled with milk silently accepted the baptism of light and heat, Zhihao stood by the side silently, not taking his eyes off it.

Yan Hong froze for a moment, took off her coat silently, and went to the bathroom to wash up.

After the breakfast of milk and bread, Yanhong made lunch again within a short while. Fortunately, Zhihao didn't care too much. When Yanhong was making a new meal, Zhihao said in a low voice, "Reheat the old meal."

The old meal was hot, but it was still hearty. Zhihao ate with gusto like he was last night, and Yanhong played the role of accompaniment and side dish until Yanhong thought that Zhihao was very full.

After lunch, there was a lunch break. Yanhong seemed to be accompanying a mentally ill patient, more like coaxing an obedient child.At this moment, if Zhihao hadn't had that memorable encounter with Ms. Yanhong, he would have never known that anyone who saw Zhihao would think of him as a mentally ill person without hesitation.

Zhihaomu lay on the bunk blankly, with a thin summer quilt covering his body, only covering his stomach, his legs and feet were exposed, and the redness and swelling seemed to have subsided a lot.

Yanhong suddenly pulled Zhihao to sit up, "Have a glass of wine."

Zhihao nodded.

Yanhong poured two glasses of wine over. The transparent goblet was colorless and transparent. It looked like a high-grade white wine. The wine glasses touched each other crisply. The two of them made no other movements, and immediately poured their necks back into their mouths. , Zhihao stared blankly at the wine glass, and muttered, "Drink another glass."

After drinking the second cup, Zhihao still said the same thing, "Have another cup."

Yan Hong's eyes were full of affection, "Drink at most two glasses, or you won't get an infection."

Zhihao nodded silently, Yanhong put away the wine glass, and the two of them lay down silently.

After a long silence, with a bright red face, he said in a low voice, "If I'm not wrong, you must go to ### to help save the injured person."

Seeing that Zhihao didn't comment, Yanhong didn't care about Zhihao, and continued, "The one who saved is your relative or love, you call her Sister Ting."

Hearing the word Sister Ting, Zhihao's eyes seemed to flash a gleam of light, and then dimmed again. There was no sigh, but Yanhong let out a long sigh.

After sighing, Yanhong said softly, "This may be the pain in your heart, because of the ### gang, of course I am not qualified to say anything. I just want to say, what is there to make trouble? If torturing yourself can slow down your pain If you are in pain, then torture yourself to your heart's content."

Zhihao stared blankly at the roof, and silently let out a long, eloquent sigh.

Yanhong lay silently beside Zhihao, sideways, looking into Zhihao's gloomy eyes, it seemed that she had shed clear tears, but now they have dried up, absent minded, mixed with helpless remoteness.

"I don't know if my choice is correct or not. Her figure is always floating in front of my eyes, and I can't help her out..." Zhihao said in a low and hoarse voice, tears dripping down silently.

With a bright red hand like a green onion root, he gently wiped Zhihao's eyes, but he saw that Zhihao's eyes were slightly red, lifeless, without a trace of moisture.

"Whether your choice is correct or not, it's helpless anyway. She understands you and supports you." Yan Hong expressed warm relief.

"Let's not talk about this." Zhihao's absent-minded eyes suddenly showed a little more indifference since last night, the indifference in front of beautiful women, "I need to get out of here, not to run away."

Yan Hong was stunned, she didn't know what to say, she could only say nothing, silently looked at the man in front of her who seemed familiar but couldn't see through anything, maybe there could only be physical passion between her and this man. nothing else.

Thinking of this, Yanhong slowly leaned closer to Zhihao's side, and froze again. Yanhong saw Zhihao's indifferent eyes, full of hatred, hostility, all hatred, hatred brewing in silence, maybe inadvertently suddenly erupted.

Zhihao's face was indifferent, still with that kind of unfathomable expression, Wei Wei was so unattainable and noble, dumb and noble, Yan Hong didn't know if her guess was correct, anyway, she didn't want to think so much, Yanhong slowly approached Zhihao and threw herself into Zhihao's arms.

Zhihao neither accepted enthusiastically nor rejected coldly, the eyes he looked at the beauty in his arms were dull and demented.

Yanhong sighed sadly, softly and gracefully.

"If you have hatred in your heart, treat Yanhong as your enemy, and you can vent it on me to your heart's content; if you have love in your heart, treat Yanhong as your lover, and you can experience warmth from me."

The confession is almost like a hazy poem, perhaps with a little bit of ambiguous straightforwardness in the artistic conception, an undetectable strangeness flashed in Zhihao's eyes, just a small unsteadiness, Yan Hong accurately captured it, Yan Hong began to action.

Zhihao was indifferent.

Before Yanhong could make any further moves, she saw Zhihao knocking Yanhong down...