The wind lives in this life policy

Looking at the back of Ye Xiaofeng excitedly going to get the pen, ink, paper and inkstone, Feng Ce's eyes followed that figure back and forth, moving quietly.

one Year……

For a whole year, there was no sound, let alone a human figure.

He originally thought that this kind of life would last forever, but in just a few days, he has actually gotten used to... getting used to having such a person by his side.

For the first time in his life, Feng Ce felt an unspeakable warmth.

"Feng Ce! Come!" Ye Xiaofeng put a bunch of things on the coffee table, "Since you can't say it, write it."

Feng Ce took the inkstone and pen stand, spread out the snow-white rice paper on the table, and asked, "What should I write?"

"You can write about your feelings about Zhao Changning, and then @话作者." Ye Xiaofeng said while rubbing ink, "Before, after finalizing the role, several artists went to Weibo to share their experiences with the author generously. A lot of fans follow the discussion, I think the effect is very good, we can learn from it."

Feng Ce thought about it for a moment, then smiled knowingly, and picked a wolf hair from the pen stand.

Ye Xiaofeng quickly picked up his mobile phone and took pictures.

Time flows slowly around me every minute and every second, silently, and occasionally there is a slight sound, but it is the trace left by the pen tip.

In the camera, I can see Feng Ce sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table, with his head slightly lowered, his wrists hanging lightly, and his pen writing lightly; Everything is collected horizontally, and there is his low-browed and narrow-eyed style between the vertical and horizontal.

It seems that this matter has been repeated thousands of times in his life, without any hesitation, he writes every word at his fingertips with ease.

Outside the camera, Ye Xiaofeng's thoughts gradually moved away from what he saw.

It's not that I don't know that this person is good-looking.

From the first time he saw Feng Ce, at the release of "Three Thousand Crows", he felt this kind of beauty that could almost absorb people's souls.

But when he looked through the lens, this feeling changed again.

Everything around seemed to be downplayed, only the figure of Feng Ce was condensed in the line of sight, from top to bottom, from inside to outside, all the details were forced to be sealed in the lens, and then zoomed in, zoomed in again, forcing Ye Xiaofeng Keep accepting until he completely imprints this figure in his heart.

The feeling that Feng Ce should be like this surged up again, stronger than when I saw him wearing ancient costumes before.

It's as if this person doesn't belong here at all.

Everything that doesn't belong here.

He seems to have become a world of his own, clearly within reach, yet hard to see.

"Okay." Feng Ce said lightly, then put down the pen, turned around and smiled at him, "Ye Xiaofeng."

This smile suddenly hit Ye Xiaofeng's eyes through the lens, Ye Xiaofeng was caught off guard, let go of his hand, and the phone fell to the ground.

The heart seemed to miss a beat, and at the moment of pause, it spread from the eyes to the whole body.

"What's the matter?" Feng Ce bent down and picked up the phone and handed it back to him, Ye Xiaofeng took it in a daze, still a little bit unaware.

"Ah, oh...you finished writing? What did you write?" He coughed awkwardly, avoided Feng Ce's gaze, and walked to the coffee table.

"Looking at the sea of ​​clouds and the sky, pay attention, the geese go back and hurt the sky... Zhao Changning."

Ye Xiaofeng was born in science, and his language was given back to his physical education teacher long ago, so he simply skipped his poems and turned to his words.

And Feng Ce's writing is very beautiful, Ye Xiaofeng thinks it is better than those calligraphy works he has seen before, he can't tell what kind of font it is, anyway, it doesn't look like the ones he has seen.

"Isn't it italics?" he asked.

"It's a thin gold body." Feng Ce corrected.

"Thin golden body?"

Feng Ce came to his side and said lightly, "The thin gold body was created by Emperor Huizong of Song Dynasty. The so-called beautiful bones and elegant taste are what it means." Looking at the words on his desk, he was not very satisfied , "Compared to his sharpness in the later stage, I can barely be considered a little arrogant at best, so let's not mention it."

Feng Ce seldom said so many words in one breath, usually he just popped out one word at a time, Ye Xiaofeng couldn't hear it, but nodded at the end, "But I think your writing is very good, very good! "

This is the truth.

Feng Ce smiled casually, a rare arouse of interest, and asked, "Why don't you practice calligraphy?"

"Oh, this..." Ye Xiaofeng recalled his fucking primary school life, feeling a little embarrassed, "When I was young, there were interest classes organized in school, and I studied for a while, but I didn't stick to it."

"Oh?" Feng Ce raised his eyebrows, handed the pen to his hand, and spread out a piece of paper, "Try it."

"Then let's say it first, don't laugh at me." Ye Xiaofeng said nervously while holding his pen.

"No." Feng Ce promised.

"Actually, I only practiced for a little time..."

"It's okay."

"But don't tell me, the brush calligraphy I wrote when I was a child was praised by the teacher."

"I'll wait and see."

"Then you stay well!" After speaking, Ye Xiaofeng held the pen in his right hand, bent down, dipped in the ink, and was about to write the first stroke...

"..." Why are you shaking so much!Hey, whose hands are shaking?is this my hand

Feng Ce: "..."

Speechlessly staring at the paw shaking like Parkinson's, Ye Xiaofeng smiled awkwardly, "I haven't practiced for too many years..."

Feng Ce shook his head with a smile, only to see him take a step forward, conveniently grasping Ye Xiaofeng's right hand, and then exerted a little force to stabilize the pen holding posture for him.

The distance between the two was brought to the closest in an instant, and Ye Xiaofeng seemed to be hugged in his arms.

This time his hands stopped shaking, and Ye Xiaofeng froze.

"What do you want to write?" Feng Ce asked him in a low voice, suddenly an extremely itchy numbness started from his ears and ran through his body. Ye Xiaofeng didn't expect it, and felt his scalp was about to explode.

"No, I don't know..." He hastily took a breath, fearing that he would suffocate if he didn't breathe again.

There was a pause in Feng's strategy. After a while, he exerted force in his hand and took Ye Xiaofeng's hand to write slowly one stroke at a time:

There are gangsters, like cuts are like consultations, like cuts like grinding.

"What do you mean..." Ye Xiaofeng felt that he might be a hidden illiterate, otherwise how could this person not understand everything he said...

"It means..." A smile flashed across Feng Ce's eyes, and then he said softly, "In my heart, you are a gentleman." He immediately let go of his hand, turned around and began to pack up the pens, inks, papers and inkstones on the table .

And Ye Xiaofeng stared at his back in a daze, and didn't make a sound for a long time.

It seems that his warm breath still lingers in his ears, accompanied by that seductive and sinking voice slowly winding around... so intoxicating, it makes people nostalgic.

The next morning, Ye Xiaofeng was busy making breakfast in the kitchen.

Although he has no intention of being a chef, he has always attached great importance to three meals a day. Ye Xiaofeng's philosophy is that he can eat not much, but if conditions permit, he must eat well enough.

The saying that the body is the capital of revolution is quite reasonable.

The golden egg liquid is slowly spread on the surface of the pan, and when it is half-cooked, sprinkle with chopped chives and diced ham, and finally turn over, and the aroma is immediately overflowing.

"OK!" Ye Xiaofeng put the fried omelette on a plate, cut up a few oranges and put them in the juicer, and soon twice as nutritious, sweet, sour and delicious orange juice was freshly baked.

Ye Xiaofeng was about to go to the living room with his breakfast, but when he turned around, he saw Feng Ce leaning against the door frame of the kitchen silently, and he didn't know how long he looked at it.

"!!!" Ye Xiaofeng jumped.

"Why didn't you make a sound when you came here? You're so frightening." Panting in shock, he handed the food to Feng Ce, "You eat first, I'll pack up and come."

Feng Ce looked at the things in his hand. The omelette was golden and fragrant, and the orange juice was alluring. Just looking at it, he felt that it must be delicious, and it made people move their index fingers.

Looking at the people still busy in the kitchen, Feng Ce's eyes gradually deepened.

In fact, he woke up very early.

In fact, every day, he woke up earlier than Ye Xiaofeng.

In the room, he could clearly hear Ye Xiaofeng opening the door, walking back and forth in the living room, then going to the bathroom to wash up, and finally the sound of various knives, pots and pans coming from the kitchen.

These voices were not loud, but they were extremely clear. He could even use these voices to imagine Ye Xiaofeng's busy schedule in his mind.

So real, so alive.

So clearly perceived that this is the so-called life.

The life Ye Xiaofeng brought.