Young Master Officer’s Wife Pursuit

The rain seemed to be a little bit lighter.

Mo Shangyun could hear many voices, but she didn't speak, there was no voice over the phone, and the room was terribly quiet.

After a long time, Shirakawa continued: "Not in the army, otherwise you have no chance to answer the phone."

Since Mo Shangjun entered the military school, he did not get a response when he called Mo Shangjun at any time, not to mention the evening, and only occasionally contacted by texting.

He still fought.

It's just that Mo Shangyun didn't know.

After taking a breath, Mo Shangyun asked coldly, "What do you want to do?"

The cool voice is like being infiltrated by the rain outside, without any emotion.

Calm and indifferent.

Shirakawa didn't seem to hear her voice, but asked: "Is the injury done?"

"..."

Mo Shangyun didn't speak.

I can probably guess that all her guesses just did not hold. This phone call was only made by Dr. Shirakawa who was drunk.

"Moer, I miss you."

His voice was low and ambiguous, and he had a strong sense of helplessness when he whispered, letting Mo Shangyun's heart sink for no reason, and a feeling of emptyness emerged when he sank to the bottom.

Mo Shangyun frowned, ready to hang up.

However, Shirakawa seemed to guess her thoughts and stopped her in time, "Don't hang up."

The flirty words, like feathers floating in the open sky, revealed a slight beg.

"..."

Mo Shangyun didn't speak.

She tilted her head slightly and looked out the window when she lifted her eyes. The rainwater was meandering and pouring on the glass, which transmitted colorful light and mottled colors.

The strength of holding the phone is tighter.

Then, she heard Shirakawa say: "I found him."

"……Who?"

Mo Shangyun suddenly made a noise, his voice flickering.

"That scar face, the man who made you wholeheartedly enter the military school." Shirakawa said slowly.

Mo Shangyun shrank stunned.

The hand on the floor was slammed into a fist.

Scar face!

Did Shirakawa check him? !

Soon, Shirakawa whispered, "I thought, he died, you will leave the army."

"..."

Mo Shangyun's brow furrowed, stunned by Shirakawa's thoughts, and also stunned by Shirakawa's clue to the scar face.

Halfway through, she asked, "Who is he?"

Shirakawa did not answer her question, but said: "We ran into him, I failed to kill him."

"Shirakawa!"

Mo Shangyun called him, his voice a little irritable.

"You used to ask me if I was injured." Shirakawa said stubbornly, like a complaint of grievances, very embarrassed emotions, and some childishness.

Mo Shangyun was stunned. She lowered her head and said quietly, "It is not the same as before."

"...Also."

Shirakawa suddenly became clear.

Then he said, "Moer, I won't tell you the news you want to know."

"So what are you crazy about?" Mo Shangyun breathed a sigh of relief. Those indescribable emotions turned into anger. "Are you sick?!"

"Don't be angry." Shirakawa comforted her softly. "When you are angry, you won't be able to sleep tonight."

"Fuck, it's dawning."

Mo Shangyun came up with a rush of fire.

"You haven't slept all night," Shirakawa said, "that's not the case when you were woken up."

"..."

Mo Shangyun insisted on not scolding him.

She raised her hand and raised her eyebrows.

She really did not sleep for one night, so now she is surprisingly irritable.

The matter was already in chaos, and Shirakawa called over the phone even more chaotically.

Shirakawa said, "You must be thinking about many things. When you suffer from insomnia, you always think about many things."

Mo Shangyun gritted his teeth and planned to hang up again.

However, Shirakawa can often pinch the timing.

He said: "For a while, you don't need to talk, I will tell you where he is."

"..."

Tolerable, Mo Shangyun said nothing.

Shirakawa's liquor is not good, and if you drink a little more, you will get drunk.

Mo Shangyun occasionally drinks a little wine, but the amount of natural wine is just fine. There are very few times when he is drunk. Shirakawa knows how much he drinks, but he will always accompany her to drink.

He gets drunk after drinking too much, not the honest kind, he will haunt her like a person, the only joy is to make her happy.

He taught her many magic tricks.

She later learned that it was not something he would have learned from the beginning, but that he learned it specifically, the purpose was to find an opportunity to show her before her.

When the night is quiet, it is always easy to remember a lot of past things.

I thought that after so many years, some things have long been forgotten.

How many years?

It was too young at that time, with no responsibilities on his shoulders, so he made troubles everywhere by his own abilities.

Mo Shangyun occasionally thinks about the things in his youth, and he will feel trance, as if it is far away from his life.

On the phone, Shirakawa didn't talk much, and he was no longer that teenager, even his voice became mature and stable, but the drunk emphasis made Mo Shangyun involuntarily think of him many years ago.

So many things have not happened yet.

All relationships are straightforward.

She never had such complicated thoughts when answering Shirakawa's call.

She did not speak for ten minutes.

Shirakawa was alone, and there was one or the other, and it took ten minutes.

In the end, he laughed like a self-deprecating, saying: "He was transferred to the S group by B&o, you might meet him in the future."

He can't do it.

You can't sweep away all the obstacles for you.

Hearing the rain on the other side of the phone, Shirakawa felt submerged by the rain a little, and the sense of powerlessness that was difficult to escape was so strong at this moment.

"Happy birthday, Shirakawa."

Mo Shangyun said, hung up the phone.

...

The phone was hung up.

The rain stopped suddenly.

In the dark, the phone screen lights up.

Shirakawa lowered his head, the light from the screen shone on his face, and the light was soft, so his eyes seemed to be softened at this moment, letting go of all indifference and vigilance, so warm to think of the warmth of March, without any trace edges and corners.

Like the clean and clear boy in the distant past.