The president is committing suicide

"You want to celebrate my birthday?" Shen Cong's eyes were full of surprise. "Did you remember?"

"Uh, no. Just thought I should ask."

Ding Jiaying watched the light in his eyes ignite and then die out in an instant, and she felt bad. Sure enough, she still cared a lot. Wouldn't the man in front of her feel even worse?

The topic has almost come to an end. Ding Jiaying quickly searches for a suitable topic for the current conversation, but she doesn't know which one to choose.

"Your parents seem to seldom contact you."

"Ah."

Well, I chose another explosive topic.

"It's none of your business. I had no interaction with them before I went to meet you."

Shen Cong's words sounded normal, but Ding Jiaying felt so upset inside that she didn't know what to do.

Ding Jiaying recalled the afternoon when she went to deliver the meal. The house was always exceptionally quiet. Things in the room were neatly arranged, and it was so cold and harsh that it seemed as if there was no breath of life.

"Do you regret marrying me?"

Ding Jiaying asked this question out of nowhere. Thinking back to when she was not very willing, and had worked so hard to get this marriage, she might not have been sincere. The little indulgence in the beauty might not be enough to bring him much warmth.

Ding Jiaying met his gaze with a guilty look: "I am serious."

"Do you regret marrying me?" Shen Cong did not answer the question.

Ding Jiaying doesn’t know, because the Ding Jiaying who is qualified to answer this question is no longer around.

Now Ding Jiaying secretly asked herself, if it was the man in front of her, she would not regret it.

Shen Cong didn't seem to be angry or frustrated when he didn't get her answer. He moved his thin lips slightly and uttered two words that burned Ding Jiaying: "I regret it."

Ding Jiaying's heart skipped a beat. Is it true that she is still not as good as him?

"I regret not meeting you earlier. I didn't rush over and hug you when you were standing under the tree and looking at me, even though I was just a child in your eyes at that time."

?

At that time? I was really a child! I didn’t have any idea at all.

Not only does it violate public order and good customs and touch the moral bottom line, it is also on the verge of breaking the law, isn't it?

Ding Jiaying is a law-abiding and good citizen!

"You didn't mind it later, and you even liked it very much. I get very excited every time I think about it."

Was Shen Cong's words very subtle? Was it because I was not innocent enough that I thought of unspeakable scenes when I looked into his eyes?

Ding Jiaying was shocked that her feelings for him had actually broken the bottom line of what she thought was dirty.

"Shen Cong!"

She called him by his full name, and he took her fist with a smile.

"Your painting, your painting."

Ding Jiaying turned around and saw that the lily on her canvas, which was already poorly painted, had an ugly green streak.

"Forget it, I really don't have any talent."

Shen Cong held her hand holding the paintbrush and spoke in her ear: "The painting is very good. I think it can be saved."

His slender hands wrapped around Ding Jiaying's hands, and the two hands overlapped to hold a slender paintbrush. He dipped some paint to mix the colors, painted on the canvas, washed the brush and changed to another color.

His movements were so skillful, and his eyes, which carefully examined the brushstrokes, did not seem to have any ulterior motives. Ding Jiaying's eyes, which stole a glance at him, became subconsciously gentle and intoxicated.

Ding Jiaying was held in his arms, and tacitly served as his own tool.

The sunlight flickered outside the window, filtered through the gaps in the leaves, and playfully jumped from the window to their feet.

"You really haven't learned it?" Ding Jiaying stood in front of the canvas, unable to believe that Shen Cong, with his innocent face, could actually paint such beautiful light.

It's like Monet's light and shadow, giving people a hazy beauty.

This is the truth that Ding Jiaying has never really understood even after painting for many years.

"Never studied for a single day?" After confirming this, Ding Jiaying finally understood how desperate it would be for people to be defeated by talent over diligence.

I have only been painting with passion for more than ten years, but I feel a chill in my spine. How would those painters who work hard to make a living be chilled to the bone if they met a true genius in their lifetime?

"What are you thinking about?" Shen Cong moved closer to her, trying to occupy the only center of her sight.

After hearing her thoughts, Shen Cong patted her head gently: "Why do you care so much about others?"

Ding Jiaying didn't understand how it could be considered as thinking about others.

"You are too sympathetic to other people's difficulties, and sometimes you ignore the fact that you could have enjoyed this thing for granted. For example, you may be thinking at this moment that I have an excellent man who has learned to paint beautifully and is handsome without any teacher. Is that too arrogant? Then change it. You will have a very talented painter by your side, and you will have the opportunity to ask for advice from close range."

This was really unexpected. Ding Jiaying raised her eyebrows and it was indeed a good idea.

Shen Cong hugged the person in his arms: "Don't worry about so many people, don't worry about people who don't exist in our lives. Your heart is only so big, there are so many people in the world, you can't solve their problems."

Ding Jiaying felt that what he said made sense and that she did tend to daydream a lot.

"You haven't changed in this respect." Shen Cong sighed softly.

She gently turned her head to look at him. There was no trace of nostalgia on his face, but a smile and doting in his eyes.

"Don't believe it? Whether in the past or now, you have a kind and considerate attitude towards people in the world. Maybe it's in your bones. Regardless of whether you remember those memories or not, and the influence of the people and things around you on you, your kindness and compassion for people in an abstract world are very touching, and even have a kind of divinity."

I don’t quite understand, but Ding Jiaying captured the key point of this sentence through the last sentence: “So you’re saying that I have a bit of a saintly heart?”

He immediately received a small slap on the head as a response: "Imagine again, can't tell good from bad."

With a little pampering and complaint, Shen Cong, who had been carefully protecting Ding Jiaying, actually took the initiative to punish her a little. This small blow was not an intimate act, but for some reason Ding Jiaying felt that the distance between her and Shen Cong was shortened, which was more effective than those blushing and heartbeating contacts.

Ding Jiaying felt that she must be sick, otherwise why would she feel that the two of them were more naked at this moment than when they were kissing?

The sour smell of love seemed to have completely confused my sense of smell and senses, and I felt more at ease than ever indulging in this feeling.

She forgot that she had warned herself to keep a distance from the man in front of her, and he hooked his hands together and she sat on his lap.

Without thinking, she put her arms around his neck, allowing him to kiss her hesitant lips as soon as he lowered his head.