selfie

Half an hour later, Ye Tinghe had already boarded the car back to the hotel.

Ming Huan gave him some preparation details for his birthday in advance, and suddenly, a new message jumped out.

It was... his king.

What Lin Zhao replied was a long voice message. Ye Tinghe looked up at the driver and assistant, and put on the bluetooth headset himself.Then he heard Lin Zhao say: Yes, I miss you now too, when will your film crew wrap up.

The man's lazy voice seemed to speak close to Ye Tinghe's ear. When he spoke the last few words, he seemed to be aware of the coquettish meaning in his words, but he didn't care too much. smile.

Ye Tinghe was still worried about someone in the car, so he typed back to him: It should take another week or two.

After thinking about it, I sent him the video recorded in the afternoon, and said in a good mood: I will show you the sweet-scented osmanthus tree I found when I finished work.

Two or three minutes later, before the car arrived at the hotel, Lin Zhao also typed back to him, this time only three simple words.

so cute.

Ye Tinghe didn't know why he thought an osmanthus tree was cute, but it didn't prevent him from being happy at the moment.

After getting out of the car, the little girls who were squatting on him to get off work started talking to him and waved at him. Not only did he stop running fast to hide in the hotel, but he even smiled at them.

Ye Tinghe's birthday is on the 23rd of this month, one week in advance, fans started to warm up and prepare.

Not long after midnight, the topic of #祝叶康荷21岁生日快乐# was the top trending topic among them. Birthday videos and Hefan paintings filled the birthday plaza like a fountain, and the ladies cooked good meals for all parties.

Ye Tinghe went online to reply to a few birthday wishes from friends in the circle, and suddenly remembered the empty "Miaomiao's 24 Hours", and switched to the trumpet to watch it.

On the homepage, those numbers are no longer 1, 0, 0, and the Weibo number has become 1. Maybe because of the topic, some people noticed it and gained a few fans. Some people praised his wife in the comment area. .

24 Hours of @苗苗的[-] Hours:

first hour

[picture]

What he painted turned out to be the summer when Ye Tinghe was 15 years old, when Ji Xu came to his house for the first time.The boy in the painting has black hair and black eyes. He slightly raises his head to look at a man with a blurred face in front of him. His eyes are cute and revealing a vague ignorance. He is still holding a small idle book in his hand.Standing behind him was a woman with the same blurred face, but a gentle smile appeared on the corner of her mouth.

The afternoon sun lightly diffuses into this space, and the whole picture looks bright and beautiful.

Ye Tinghe didn't expect him to know this day, maybe Ji Xu told him.

This is the beginning of Lin Zhao's imagination.

But the real situation that day was not as warm as in his painting. My aunt had never looked at Ye Tinghe with such soft eyes. She always cared about every centimeter she paid in front of him, and cared about what the disabled sister-in-law and underage nephew would do. To repay her kindness.

Ye Tinghe recalled a little bit, she might have laughed that day, after all, she was really happy to finally be able to get rid of herself.

The decoration of the living room in the painting is also quite different from that of their home. Lin Zhao’s imagination of domestic small families seems to have a stereotype like acting in a TV series. He believes that everyone will design their own small homes very seriously, which are exquisite, warm and full of love.

He remembered many places in that home, the TV screen smashed by his parents, the broken chandelier bulb in the dining room, the dusty desk and tiles, and the spoiled food in the kitchen.On the day he came home from summer vacation, he opened the door and looked down to see the maggots growing from the vegetables crawling to his feet.

Ye Tinghe lowered his eyes and looked at the ignorant boy on the screen with a very indifferent look.

He hates himself like this, but he doesn't hate Lin Zhao thinking of him like this.

There is nothing wrong with this, the reality is so ugly that it is riddled with holes, and it really needs some proper beautification.Who doesn't like a bright and warm home, that was one of my past wishes, but it never came true.

Ye Tinghe put his phone aside and stopped looking at it, and fell asleep, but he couldn't control himself from falling asleep completely.

He opened his eyes in the middle of the night, and saw a gap of moonlight leaking through the window, and a light flickered in his eyes.

On this day, many people wished Ye Tinghe a happy birthday on the set. He seemed to have returned to the day when he came to Hengdian a month ago, and kept signing autographs and taking photos with people.

The support club started to prepare birthday support early in the morning. The support dining car pulled neatly arranged desserts, drinks and fruit platters, and honeydew melon green birthday cakes were placed on many tables.

The roll-up banner rippled in the wind, and the flower basket tied with moon-shaped balloons was an elegant cyan color. Standing signs of different shapes were regularly added to it, with a big "Happy 21st Birthday Ye Tinghe" printed on it.

A few years ago, they would give some gifts to the actors and staff of the same crew, mainly products endorsed by Ye Tinghe. After being told not to give gifts this year, these scenes have been simplified.

Ye Tinghe learned that they had arrived on the set, so he could only ask his assistant to order milk tea and coffee for delivery, so as not to let them stand in the cold wind for too long.It was not until the lunch break that he finally had time to go out and have a look.

When the fans saw Ye Tinghe coming out in costume, they immediately let out a subdued exclamation.Someone came forward with a blushing bouquet, Ye Tinghe took it and held it in his arms, took out the greeting card inside to read, and while receiving the letter, walked to the check-in point they requested.

They gathered around him and asked "Have you had lunch?" "Are you tired from work?" "How is your rest?" An overly sensible younger brother with a bright smile written on his face.

They coaxed him to cut the cake and take a group photo together. One girl seemed to be here for the first time, and asked in a low voice, holding a sign: "Can I ask for an autograph?"

The girls around her whispered to her to give up—

"Don't be special."

"There are so many people, how can Xiaohe have such a long rest time."

Unexpectedly, he overheard their discussion. He handed the bouquet to Naxin's assistant, cleared a table for cakes, distributed the cut cakes to the staff, and set aside a small space for himself. Sit down, beckon to the first girl: "You are the first. Have you brought a pen, what do you want to write?"

She stepped forward in surprise, and handed over the marker pen and the banner together: "Thank you Xiaohe, just write to wish me success in the postgraduate entrance examination this year!"

Then he typed his name in the memo on the phone and handed it to him.

The support that was supposed to end soon suddenly became a temporary meet and greet, and the queue was long and long.

Seeing all kinds of wishes, Ye Tinghe finally gained a little peace in the process of satisfying others.

Not all of them are themselves. Some of them ask for it for others, while others don't want to leave their names. There is a little girl at the end of the line.She was a little embarrassed, but said clearly: "Wish me happy star chasing, to Xiao He Miao."

As soon as she finished speaking, several people around her pushed her intentionally or unintentionally.

She glared at them, frowned tightly, and said nothing.

Ye Tinghe looked at them, gently lowered his writing hand, and asked, "What are you doing?"

The little assistant who followed him had a big head, and quickly tugged his sleeve to remind him not to interfere in the personal conflicts among fans.

Ye Tinghe ignored him, seeing that no one responded, he asked again: "What are you doing?"