Ling Han's fingers were slightly red, probably from the weight of the book. He was holding a blue hardcover prose anthology, Tagore's Stray Birds.
Only then did Ye Huanyan realize that it was this book that had saved the life of the back of her head.
"Compared to sex analysis, which is more practical than theoretical, it's more appropriate for a woman to read poetry to improve her self-cultivation."
A book of stray birds was slapped on her chest without any pity, causing her to cough uncontrollably. She hugged the book with one hand and sniffed as she secretly made a throat-slitting gesture at Ling Han's back.
When Ling Han turned to leave, he was slightly stunned when he heard the cough. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her grimacing and making a face at his back. A strange look appeared in his eyes. He walked straight to the coffee table, picked up the bowl of porridge, and sat down.
Ye Huanyan held the two books in her hands and turned to look at the bookshelf for a long time. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she had gotten the sex analysis book. She scratched her head. "That, where did this book come from?"
"You can bring it back to study it." A casual voice came from the sofa.
Ye Huanyan's mouth twitched. "No need. Anyway, I don't really understand it."
"It's okay. If there's anything you don't understand, you can come to me. I'll teach you."
"Cough cough …"
Ye Huanyan felt as though something had entered her throat. For a moment, she couldn't stop choking.
"I'm talking about teaching you English."
Ling Han turned around and glanced at her indifferently.
She was embarrassed by this glance. Her face was burning, and she didn't dare to refute. She hugged the two books and ran away.
Her fleeing figure was a little flustered. When Ling Han saw it, a trace of warmth appeared in his eyes.
His slender fingers clasped the edge of the bowl of black rice porridge that was already cold. He brought the spoon to his mouth and tasted it. It tasted pretty good. The black rice porridge tasted better when it was a little cold.
Ye Huanyan hugged the two books and ran back to her room on the first floor. She didn't care about Ling Ling's questioning gaze and directly closed the door. She collapsed at the door, panting heavily. Her face was red as though she had run a marathon. She was out of breath.
The two books in her hands were exceptionally hot. She lowered her head and glanced at them. She instantly closed her eyes sinfully and threw the two books on the sofa in the room.
Why did she borrow books for no reason?
Also, what did Ling Han read usually? No wonder … No wonder …
Her face burned up once again as the image hit her. She stomped her feet and plunged into the bathroom.
The next morning, Ye Huanyan woke up early as usual. She wanted to catch the bus before Ling Han woke up. Just as she changed and opened the door, she saw Ling Han sitting at the dining table eating.
Ling Ling was busy putting the toast on the table. When she saw Ye Huanyan come out, she smiled and said, "Miss Ye, you're up? Breakfast was just made. It's still early, so why don't you leave after breakfast? "
"Yes … It's quite early …"
Ye Huanyan walked over to the dining table in shock.
She had woken up early, so there was no reason not to eat breakfast at home. However, Ling Han had to go to work at ten o 'clock every day. It was only seven o' clock today, so why was he up? He was dressed neatly too.
She hesitated and sat down at the dining table. She took a bite of the toast that Ling Ling served. "Erm, you … What are you doing today? So early? "
When he heard this, Ling Han looked up at her. "The company is going to choose the year-end holiday location for the artists in the next two days. Plus, we're wrapping up all the artists' work before the end of the year … Do you need me to say more?"
"No, it's okay." Ye Huanyan swallowed the toast and took a sip of milk. She felt at ease, but at the same time, there was a trace of inexplicable disappointment.
After drinking the milk, Ling Han slowly wiped his mouth. He got up and walked to the sofa to get his coat. When he saw that Ye Huanyan was still standing, he frowned. "You're not leaving?"
Ye Huanyan stuffed a tomato into her mouth and looked at her watch. "It's still early. I'll take the eight o 'clock bus."
Ling Han's face suddenly darkened.
Ye Huanyan realized that something was wrong and added, "The company didn't tell me to go to work early."
"As a secretary, your boss is going to work early. Do you have the time to dawdle here?"
Ling Han's words made Ye Huanyan tremble. What kind of evil wind was blowing so early in the morning?
She thought that if he left early, she wouldn't be in such a hurry to go to work.
In the black MPV, it was unbelievably quiet. Other than the sound of the wind blowing through the car's glass, Ye Huanyan could barely hear anything. Her mind was groggy and she couldn't lift her spirits at all.
"Did you read the book you borrowed last night?"
Suddenly, Ling Han's voice sounded.
She suddenly quivered and woke up from her drowsiness. She answered in a daze, "Which book are you asking about?"
"What do you think?" Ling Han's eyes had a trace of playfulness.
Ye Huanyan suddenly realized what kind of mistake she had made. It was a continuation of last night's stupidity. She swallowed her saliva and said, "I read a few pages."
"What's the feeling?"
"Feeling?" She was slightly stunned. "I haven't read many of Tagore's poems, but there's a line that I quite like."
"Which line?"
Ye Huanyan was stunned again. She thought that Ling Han was just asking casually on a whim. She didn't expect to really discuss poetry with him in the car, so she could only answer carefully.
"If you shed tears for the loss of the stars, then you will also lose the sun."
She had been bad at her studies since she was young, and she didn't have any literary talent. She was still interested in short things like poetry. When she was admitted to the Media Academy, it was because she wrote well. During the interview, she was well-versed in everything and fooled a bunch of teachers. That was how she got into the Media Academy.
She was originally someone who couldn't even get into a university. If it weren't for the fact that Ling Han threw a stack of art school admission guides in front of her in her third year of high school, she probably wouldn't even think about taking the art school entrance exam.
Since she was young, she had always been obedient and followed the life path that Jiang Meilan had planned for her. She had never had any extraordinary thoughts about her future.
"The meaning of this poem is that when you lose something, don't put all your attention on the thing you lost. Because the milk that was spilled has already been spilled. No matter how much you feel that it's a pity, there's nothing you can do. Why don't you think about what you have now, so that you won't lose other things when you're not careful? This poem is quite good. It's more positive …"
Ye Huanyan's voice sounded very calm and gentle in the car. She also explained the poem very clearly. A faint layer of confusion appeared on Ling Han's face, but it didn't fall into her eyes.
The past can't be left behind, and the dead can't be pursued. That's what it means, right?
"This poem doesn't make much sense." Ling Han suddenly interrupted her explanation. His expression was a little gloomy.
Ye Huanyan looked at him in shock.
"How did you feel when Jiang Meilan passed away?"
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