Pastel Colours

Day1616:00

The two were tired and crooked, and there was a cuckoo chime in the tea house. He Zhiyuan raised his wrist and looked at his watch. At four o'clock, it was time for Bubu to finish school.

Songran yelled for the late arrival, grabbed his wrist and ran towards the kindergarten. As soon as he turned into Gaolan Road, Songran's expression changed, his footsteps stopped, the forward turned to the back, and he usually hid behind He Zhiyuan as a thief.

He Zhiyuan turned his head: "What's wrong?"

Songran: "Uh, I was tripped by..."

On the other side of the road, the old lady who had just chatted with him was leading a little girl towards her. The girl is very cute, with a mushroom head and a polka-dot little red dress. She looked up and talked to her grandmother. Songran hurriedly pulled into a three-point line, using He Zhiyuan's height to cover herself-"The wife of a busy man who always loves to travel" not only appeared, but she was still a man. The impact was too great, he was afraid of breaking the old lady. The three views.

Songran breathed a sigh of relief when the grandparents and grandchildren turned around the corner and disappeared into view.

He Zhiyuan looked at him, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

There are two rows of cars neatly lined up at the entrance of the kindergarten. They are all parents who come to pick up their children. The car labels are dazzling, comparable to a small car show. A second-hand bicycle, a bamboo basket, and a small leather stool were suddenly rammed into it, and it was parked crookedly, showing a unique personality.

"This car, my car, speeds ten kilometers per hour." Songran pointed to He Zhiyuan generously, jumped over and patted the small leather stool, "Leather seats, luxurious enjoyment."

He Zhiyuan watched his bright smile, and followed him with joy: "Bobu mentioned it several times on the phone, saying that he likes your car, slow and swaying, and he can see the cats and dogs on the roadside. It’s more comfortable than taking my car. But there are three people today, and your car can’t be used. Can you feel wronged and take my car?"

Songran looked around: "Your car?"

A car parked on the side of the road opened the door, and a middle-aged man in uniform and white gloves walked down from the driver's seat. He respectfully returned the car keys to He Zhiyuan, then walked to Songran and politely himself Introduction: "My surname is Wu and I am President He's driver."

"Ah... you, hello!"

Songran quickly shook hands with him. After the shook, the other party did not withdraw his hand and kept his palm up: "Please give me the car key. I will drive it for you."

Driving?

Song Ran looked blank, cast a puzzled look at He Zhiyuan.

He Zhiyuan explained: "Bicycle key."

Is there a bicycle driver?

Songran opened his eyes wide, hesitantly took out a copper key from his pocket and gave it to the driver. The driver took the key with a calm expression, unlocked the lock, helped the car, kicked the foot support, and rode along the shade of the tree.

"..."

Songran looked at his shrunken back, and didn't recover for a long time.

"Wake up, don't look, come to me."

He Zhiyuan leaned against the car, knocked on the hood, motioned Songran to look over. Songran turned his gaze, noticed the whole picture of the car, and was stunned--the Infiniti he was thinking of was washed and waxed, and the afterglow of the setting sun smeared it, and a dazzling line flowed over the edge of the silver-gray shell. Bright light.

It is so beautiful, more beautiful than any car I have seen in Bishuiwanju before.

Songran happily touched the car body, and carefully stroked the cold metal surface inch by inch with his soft finger pads, for fear of touching it: "How did you think of opening it today?"

"What do you mean?"

He Zhiyuan smiled at him.

Songran understood it all at once, feeling ashamed, lowered his head and said nothing.

"If you like it, I can open it all the time--just open it." He Zhiyuan spoke softly, stretched out his hand to loosen the tie, pulled it out from under the collar, and unscrewed a collar button with one hand. Like it?"

Songran whispered, "I like it."

One point to praise the car, the remaining nine points to praise people.

His eyes were clear and bright, with affection, he saw his chin from the bridge of He Zhiyuan's nose, and his chin, and finally saw the shadow of the collarbone under the open placket—the man in a black shirt. It was even more exciting than the last glimpse.

At the entrance of the kindergarten, Songran was not embarrassed to let He Zhiyuan hold hands. The two leaned side by side in the car and waited for the cloth to come out. Their shoulders and arms touched lightly through the cloth, and their skin was a little hot.

"Pull out!"

As soon as Bubu left the kindergarten, his eyes rolled around like a top, locked on the target, and rushed towards He Zhiyuan with cheers. A short hair was blown by the wind with its teeth and claws, and it stood on his head in a mess, as if it had just been struck by lightning.

He flew up and turned into an octopus, and firmly hugged He Zhiyuan's waist: "Pull, I miss you so much!"

He Zhiyuan was about to hold him up, Bubu suddenly let go of his little hand, slipped off him with a chuckle, took a half step back, pointed at his shirt and said, "Pull out, the clothes are wrinkled... I'm sorry."

A small hem was pulled out from the waistband, which should have been pounced just now.

The child blinked his eyes, took a timid step towards Songran, and pulled his sleeves, his expression was a bit flustered-he was always obedient in front of his father, wherever he dared to rush to the waist when he met what. During the past half month, Songran was used to being spoiled, and the "presumptuous" behavior became more and more, and the momentary excitement was too much, but he couldn't stop it.

Dad must be upset.

However, He Zhiyuan was not angry. He bent over to pick up Bubu, kissed him on the cheek, and comforted him: "It's okay, Bubu misses Dad so much. Dad feels very happy."

"Really?"

Bubu showed incredible happiness.

He Zhiyuan nodded: "Really."

Bubu immediately turned from cloudy to sunny, and put his arms around He Zhiyuan's neck: "What about Dad? Dad doesn't want me?"

"Of course I do. Dad thinks about you every day. I am worried about whether our Xiao Bubu is full. I am afraid to sleep at night and get along well with my brother." He Zhiyuan poked his little face lightly, "Baby tell Dad, this How are the days?"

"It's a super happy time!" Bubu's eyebrows were flying, his clever little eyes rolled, and the second half was sweetly added, "Daddy will be even happier when he comes back!"

Songran almost laughed--this kid is really sweet with sugar cane.

The family got into the car, Bobu sat in the exclusive child seat, took the initiative to fasten the seat belt, and Songran sat cautiously in the co-pilot, tilted his toes, for fear of his sneakers staining the newly cleaned car.

Until now, he was still a little bit dreamy and couldn't believe that he really got into the Infiniti he dreamed of. He knew that this car was not expensive and probably not comparable to He Zhiyuan's other two cars, so he kept locked in the cold palace. But what it symbolizes is solemn and precious, which Songran has always been looking forward to.

Seeing him nervous, He Zhiyuan opened the door and got out of the car. He walked around to his side, behaving like a gentleman and fastened his seat belt, and said with relief: "My car, let go of it, it's okay."

Self, own...

Song Ran was a little embarrassed.

He certainly didn't think he had been dating He Zhiyuan, and this car was half of him, but the three words "own" do sound very nice. He read it several times in silence, feeling a lot of comfort, flattened his feet, stretched out comfortably, and felt the inertia of the vehicle start pushing him gently on the seat back.

It only takes five minutes to drive home from the kindergarten, and five minutes later, the roadside scenery is not only unfamiliar, but more and more unfamiliar. Finally, the viaduct is even driven. Songran asked what was going on, He Zhiyuan tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips: "You said you like to eat crabs before. I promised to take you to eat them. Remember?"

Songran had forgotten this a long time ago and barely managed to find a vague impression.

He thought he would go home for dinner tonight. Yesterday he went to the vegetable market and bought a basket full of meat and vegetables. He also packed thirty small white jade wontons in advance. He was waiting in the refrigerator at the moment. It's getting off the pot.

When Bobo heard that there was a crab to eat, he yelled happily, "Crab! Crab! Glack!"

Listening to this heroic energy, you can swallow eight in one breath.

Songran thought that maybe he hadn't eaten crabs for many years, and he was so greedy, he didn't express any objection, said thank you, quietly leaned back on the seat, and watched He Zhiyuan drive intently. His eyes were not naked, and he seemed to stay on He Zhiyuan's right hand unintentionally-this man is also very beautiful: slender but not too thin, with distinct knuckles, flat nails without thorns, and four clear palm bones on the back of his hand. Protruding, there are clusters of blue veins under the skin.

When held by this hand, no matter the strength or the heat, it is too strong to survive.

Song Ran felt itchy in her heart and couldn't help but quietly licked her lips.

"Don't look, I will panic."

He Zhiyuan looked ahead and said lightly.

Song Ran was startled, he quickly moved his eyes away like an electric shock, lowered his head, and stared at his trouser legs awkwardly. He Zhiyuan laughed silently. When waiting for a red light at a certain intersection, he released the steering wheel, held Song Ran's hand, clasped his fingers, and gently gathered.

The back seat of the car was full of gifts brought back by He Zhiyuan. Bobu squeezed and bitten, happily all the way. Before driving to the place, he dismantled all of them-mostly snacks, toys and picture books. There is also a GoProKarma drone.

After dismantling a pile of small paper boxes, Bobu was in high spirits, stretched his arms, and wanted to disassemble the largest paper box. He Zhiyuan discovered his intention through the rearview mirror and stopped him in time: "Don't open it, that's a gift for your brother Songran."

"Huh!" Bubu lifted his spirits, "What is it?"

Songran didn't expect to have a gift, so she became curious: "What is it?"

"Some painting materials, paper, pens, paints and the like." He Zhiyuan said, "I am not very familiar with your field, so I asked the designer of the company to help select them. About 20 brands, you try one by one. Come here, and if you feel comfortable with it, I'll buy it for you in the future."

Songran was startled: "Thank you."

If He Zhiyuan gave any other expensive gifts, he would refuse to be rude and feel uneasy. In contrast, painting materials are probably the most suitable choice. But things like paper, pens, and paints don’t cost much to buy cheap goods. Once you start pursuing quality, it’s a huge sum.

The watercolor paper he uses now has many problems. Firstly, the water absorption is insufficient, and secondly, the surface strength is not enough, which affects the layering and blooming effect, and it is not suitable for repeated modification. He wanted to change the cotton drawing paper several times, but after calculating the price, he gave up-he didn't earn much, and the cost would increase a little bit.

So it will be until now.

Songran really likes picture book illustrations and wants to draw better works, but the price of paper and paint is like a hurdle, and it is always there-he can't afford high-priced consumables, and this kind of money is pulled away. Skills alone cannot make up for the gap.

The painting materials that Mr. He bought for him must be expensive. If all these things were to be paid by Mr. He, would it be considered to support him to some extent?

Thinking of this, Songran's self-esteem began to haunt her, her chest was stuffy and astringent: "I like this gift very much, and I will cherish it, but I still plan to buy the materials for the future. Mr. He, I can't spend you. Money."

He Zhiyuan understood his thoughts, pressed the palm of his hand, pressed the back of his hand, and lightly patted a few times as if he were soothing: "Don't worry about this too much. The family members don’t settle accounts, so I will tell Bobu more stories in the future. We are even."

"No...no." Songran shook his head, "Mr. He, I really don't have a stand to spend your money."

He Zhiyuan smiled upon hearing the words: "I don't mind asking you to marry me while I have dinner later."

"Don't, don't, don't be impulsive!"

Songran jumped up in shock, and was violently pulled back into the seat by the seat belt, with a dull pain in his ribs.

He Zhiyuan withdrew his hand, put his hands on the steering wheel, and said calmly: "Song Ran, you shouldn't be too clear with me in this regard. We are not a cohabitation relationship that is detached, nor a clear cooperative relationship. We are mutually dependent. Partner, and family."

"This...I know." Songran paused, "but the relationship is close, and the money should be counted separately. As the old saying goes, the brothers are all clear."

"If you must settle the accounts clearly, well, I will help you." He Zhiyuan refused to give up. "I promised you a salary of 14 thousand for 15 days, which is equivalent to a monthly salary of 28,000. This price only includes care. Boob, not including taking care of me. If you count me, my salary will be doubled, fifty-six thousand. I can agree to economic separation, provided that I will pay you fifty-six thousand at the beginning of each month."

"Mr. He, why do you have to do this?" Songran was anxious, "I don't mean anything else, I just feel that every penny I spend should be earned by myself."

He Zhiyuan shrugged: "You made the fifty thousand and six."

"But we are a family!" Songran subconsciously glanced at Bobu in the back seat with Yu Guang, and lowered his voice when he saw that he was concentrating on putting together toys, "I take care of you and you accompany me, don't you give each other , Why should it be converted into money?"

He was nervous and afraid to quarrel with Mr. He again.

At first, their family views were inconsistent, and it took a difficult detour before they came to agreement. Now that they met, they only got involved in a little economic relationship, and they found that their views on money were incompatible. What should they do in the future?

He Zhiyuan didn't show any signs of irritation. He still drove the car calmly.

Only at a certain moment, he sighed extremely lightly.

"Songran, you also said that we are already a family. I am not good at cooking, and your cooking skills happen to be good. In the future, you will cook many meals for me and Bubu. I have hired a few with a high salary. Babysitter, every one of them has received professional training. To tell the truth, no one has ever made Bobo praise so much. You are different from them, you are more attentive, and you will observe what Bobo likes to eat and consider his physical needs. What to make up. I mentioned the little wontons you like to pack yourself, and you will remember it. You cleaned the house the other day and you made some beautiful handmade decorations."

"These things may seem to you to be very common. There is no need to talk about money at all, but not to talk about it does not mean that they do not exist. In fact, its value is much higher than you think. If you switch to a nanny, it will be a fortune. Small expenses. Songran, why don’t you accept the money or even allow me to mention it? Because you love us, you give it voluntarily, and I...also want to give you something voluntarily."

"You like to paint and make a living from it. I hope you can work more comfortably, so I send you drawing paper and paint without any money, because I love you the same. Songran, you say that giving is mutual. Yes, giving It is indeed mutual. You have your way and I have my way. So what is the essential difference between a bowl of wonton and a stack of drawing paper?"

Songran opened her mouth and couldn't answer.

A large orange-red sunset spread across the sky, bright and soft. The evening light enters the car window, giving people a layer of flickering light. I don't know why, Songran felt that Mr. He looked a little tired-after 13 hours of long-distance flight, he went to the company for an afternoon after landing, and he should have been tired.

He Zhiyuan drove the car quietly, and said for a while: "Baby, I don't want to quarrel with you, especially because of the money. In my opinion, our relationship is far more important than money. If you insist on not accepting it, I can give in, but I hope you know that I will send you a stack of paper, watch you use it to draw, cook a bowl of wontons with you, and watch me eat it bite by bit...It's the same mood."

"Mr. He, I'm sorry."

Song Ran finally compromised.

He knew that he had made the same mistake again—not only emotionally, but also money.

Emotionally, he yearns for a harmonious relationship, but he is afraid of investing too much. If he is abandoned one day, he will not be able to get out of the whole body. He is simply on guard, only giving, not asking, and not asking for anything. In terms of money, he has been stumbling and crawling for seven or eight years, and he has experienced the days of tiptoeing on the brink of hunger and fullness. Money and dignity have been firmly tied up, and the same problem has developed-no matter how much he has paid, he is not embarrassed. To be counted as money, every cent paid by others must be counted as money.

Cooking a bowl of wontons, washing two pieces of clothes, helping to take care of the children for a few days... It's just a matter of little effort, how can you ask for money?

But it was the other party's turn to give him watercolor paper, but he thought, those are all real things, ten Waterford, hundreds of them, how can they accept it in vain?

No way.

It must not be accepted.

Out of self-protection, he still can't get out of this vicious circle, saying that it sounds good is selfless, and that it is ugly. He only takes his own sincerity, but treats the sincerity of others as a donkey.

That's why Mr. He is unhappy.

"I'm sorry, I understand." Songran rubbed his cold wrist, slowly said to Mr. He, and also said to himself, "A bowl of wonton and a stack of drawing paper are essentially the same. As long as you use your heart. , There is no difference, so..."

He looked up at He Zhiyuan and smiled easily: "So, I want the best watercolor paper."

Infiniti drove into the parking building and slowly reversed into the garage. He Zhiyuan put out the fire, took out the key, and lightly turned twice between his fingers.

The car was silent.

He suddenly supported the steering wheel, stretched out his hand to wrap Songran's neck, leaned out from the driver's seat, and kissed his lips. The silent kiss lasted for a long time, until the air began to become sultry, and the sleepy Boob in the back seat grunted, and they reluctantly separated.

"I'm very happy." He Zhiyuan looked at him, with a strong pampering in his eyes, "Baby, I will give you the best of everything."