you are a star

That night, after Liang Muxing fell asleep, Qiao Nan walked out of his room, closed the outside door, went to the living room, and saw Liang Feicheng sitting on the sofa by the fireplace.

The Liang mansion has been repaired several times, but the fireplace in the hall is still kept.

The weather is still cold now, and the spring is cold, and the fire in the fireplace has been burning since last winter.

He was leaning on the back of the sofa, with his right leg resting on his left leg, and there was a book on his lap. She couldn't see the title of the book from a distance, but it was a book with a hard cover, probably an original book in a foreign language.

The books in the Liang mansion are all out of print.

It's a pity that Qiao Nan is not a person who particularly likes to read books, she only likes Keigo Higashino.

Standing there, she was a little distracted, and the light and shadow created by the dancing flames walked past Liang Feicheng's side face. This scene reminded her of what happened many years ago.

He sat there in the same way, flipping through a first edition of Lolita.

The fingers were slender and clean, against the firelight, they were shiny and translucent, like fine jade stones.

She was fascinated by it, only to find that he was looking at her when she came back to her senses.

He said softly, "Come here."

At that time, she was already in love, knowing Mu Shaoai's age, she didn't want to call him uncle, and she didn't dare to call him third brother, and she always didn't know what to call him.

"Are you reading a book?"

He handed her the book on the low table. It was an original book in a foreign language. She opened it, but couldn't understand it, only the Lolita on the cover.

"What's in this book?" She asked curiously.

In fact, she wasn't really interested, but because she didn't have many opportunities to talk to him, she had to find something to talk about.

There seemed to be a slight tremor in his throat, a smile that was not a smile, and there was a narrow smile in his eyes, "A story about an old man falling in love with a little girl."

She groaned, her cheeks turned red.

It's not because of old men and little girls, but because of her age, she is too sensitive to the word love, ashamed to say it, and it happens to be said from the mouth of her sweetheart.

She didn't know if he saw her blushing, but she only hoped that the fire in the fireplace would burn hotter, so that he thought she was burning red.

Because of the sudden nervousness, the book slipped from her hand, and she quickly bent down to pick it up. His big hand was quicker than hers, and he picked up the book that almost fell to the ground one step faster.

She didn't have time to withdraw her hand and just touched the back of his hand.

The heart almost jumped into the throat, and it was like a train whizzed by in the brain, boiling hot.

He turned his head sideways, his breath almost wrapped around her, and his voice was already low and deep like that of an adult man, "Why is it so hot, do you have a fever?"

He was about to reach out his hand to her forehead, and she was so frightened that her blood surged, she hurriedly backed away, supported the sofa behind her, and shook her head.

"No, I don't have a fever. I'm just hot. It's too hot!" She said these words in a serious manner like a goose.

Then she left the living room as if fleeing, and ran to her room on the third floor with a bang bang bang.

Suddenly, there seemed to be a gust of wind blowing against her back, and Qiao Nan shivered and came back to his senses.

She subconsciously glanced at the time.

It's eleven o'clock.

Isn't Liang Feicheng going to sleep yet?
She planned to go back to the utility room quietly, but just as she was about to look away, Liang Feicheng looked back at her.

That look was cold, with a trace of coolness that echoed such a spring night.

Cen's thin lips parted.

She saw him and said: Come here.

She stood there in a daze, as if at just a moment ago, time traveled back to that year, her young girlish thoughts.

With a sore feeling in her heart, she quickly blinked her eyes, holding back the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes.

As she walked over, Liang Feicheng just stood up, closed the book in his hand, and held it with one hand.

Only then did she realize that what he was reading was Tagore's poetry collection.

His fingers pinched her chin, neither light nor heavy, not to hurt her, but to make her look at him and talk.

"It's not for you to read my book."

He slightly loosened his grip, and said coldly, "Go back to your previous room to sleep tonight."

Qiao Nan froze for a moment, Liang Feicheng had already let go of her jaw, turned around and went upstairs.

She stood where she was. She read right just now, Liang Feicheng told her to go back to sleep in the previous room tonight.

Her previous room was on the third floor, next to Liang Feicheng's master bedroom, separated by a wall.

She stood by the fireplace for a long time, her heart pounding, not joy, but an indescribable feeling, tightly entangled in her heart.

The third floor was Liang Feicheng's territory, and no one would dare to harm her under his nose, so it was absolutely safe for her to sleep on the third floor.

Although he still didn't believe that the black shadow she saw in the middle of the night was definitely not a hallucination.

She went back to the utility room to get her pajamas before going to the third floor to take a shower in her previous bathroom.

After I moved here, I never came back.

Everything remains the same.

She was lying on the bed, the bedding was just changed by the maid, and the room was clean.

This bed has been gone for a long time.

In the summer of that year, until now, three or four months later, it will be four years.

She didn't think she would suffer from insomnia or recognize her bed, after all, this was the room she had slept in for so many years.

But she still tossed and turned.

She turned over and suddenly felt something in the coat pocket beside the bed.

With the light coming in from the window, she took something out of her pocket and took a look, and it turned out to be a watch.

Her gaze seemed to be concentrated on the dial, the light shrank for a moment, and the pupils of her eyes were dark and deep.

Then, there was a rattling sound in the depths of his brain.

She blinked and frowned suspiciously, "Why is Uncle Liang's watch in my pocket?"

Uncle Liang must have stuffed it into her pocket for fun.

She sighed helplessly, put the watch on the bedside table, and planned to take it back to him tomorrow.

midnight.

"Bang" sound!
Suddenly there was a movement in the quiet Liang mansion.

There was not much movement, and Liang Feicheng, who was in a light sleep, suddenly opened his eyes.

The sound came from the next room.

He got up and walked to the door of the next room, and directly turned the doorknob open——

"Jonan!"

He looked in through the light in the corridor, and Qiao Nan seemed to be writhing uncomfortably on the bed, and with a snap, her hand swung towards his face, not with the force of slapping mosquitoes, but fiercely towards him Fan in the face!
Liang Feicheng quickly turned on the light, and when he looked at the center of the big bed, his breath sank.

Because, Qiao Nan raised his hands to pinch his neck.

"Qiao Nan, wake up!" Liang Feicheng's stern face was full of gloom, and he pinched her wrists with one hand. He didn't expect her to be so strong in sleep.

At this time, he didn't care about pinching her, and his fingers firmly controlled her wrist.

"Uh..." Qiao Nan made a painful sound in his throat.

All the strength in her body seemed to disappear with this sound. Liang Feicheng felt that her wrist was no longer struggling. She was lying on the bed covered in sweat, as if she had just experienced a life-and-death struggle.

With her long and even breathing, Liang Feicheng's face was gloomy and gloomy, with boundless darkness surging in his eyes.

Just now, it was definitely not as simple as a nightmare.

"Third Young Master..." Fan Qi behind Liang Feicheng looked at this scene in shock, and his voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

His eyes slid to Qiao Nan's face and the fresh, red strangle marks on her slender neck, his Adam's apple rolled, with an expression of disbelief.

"Could it be that her strangle marks and fingerprints were made in the same way?"

Therefore, no one in the Liang mansion wanted to kill her at all.

She made it herself!