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The sun outside the window is warm and shining on the grass outside. It is just the right temperature to fall on cats and teenagers through the French windows.

People who fall asleep on tatami have a beautiful side face like jade. They do not have the usual cold expression. They are gentle and quiet like a painting scroll.

Shen mubai stares at each other for a while, until the sound of the system rings again, he comes back to his senses and says, "wait for me."

The yellow and white cat came out of the boy's arms, touched the other side's chin with his mouth, and gave a low cry, "meow ~" goodbye to the shoveling officer.

It seems to be aware that the boy who was sleeping slightly opened his eyes and put the restless cat back into his arms. He pressed her to her forehead and said in a slightly hoarse and cold voice, "don't move."

Shen's eyes were green and green.

The cat's soft and comfortable hair gives the boy a sense of security and closes his eyes again.

The boy and the cat in the house, the sun is just right outside.

Outside the sun has faintly had the sign of setting, the brain sleepiness dissipated, Jiang Yiran slowly opened his eyes, the cat in his arms seems to be still quietly sleeping.

Lips show a shallow arc, he is going to reach out to rub the other party's fluffy head inertia, fall in a certain place of sight can not help but a meal, the pupil of deep such as the pool of violent contraction.

The atmosphere in the living room is very quiet. With the teenagers' rigid action in the air, it is infected with a trace of suffocation.

The dim yellow light falls on each other's body, no one can see that hiding in the dark look.

Finally, the boy just quietly held the cat, which had become a little cold, in his arms, tightening up.

He didn't say a word or a word.

Just gently alienated the cat, some messy hair, and then whispered, "stupid cat..."

the tone is full of indulgence and connivance, but with a hint of unclear road.

Jiang Yiran is back to the original appearance. The girl who had made a lot of courage after the end of the school celebration retreated back into the shell, afraid to tell the truth or hand in a love letter.

Cold, with a distant sense of distance, or this is the real Jiang Yiran.

In the past, those casual tenderness is just a mirror flower or a flash in the pan.

There is a potted flower in the bedroom. Jiang Yiran takes good care of it every day. Most of his time is reserved for it. His eyes are tender and tender. It can be seen that he cares about the potted flower and dotes on it.

But in the flowerpot that pure white flower actually withered day by day, the room also had an indescribable smell.

Because there's a dead cat buried underneath.

Jiang Yiran didn't seem to care at all. He stood by the window, staring at the flowerpot, attentive and gentle.

Until the horizon of the sun dyed with a layer of yellow light, hidden in the dark Jiang Yiran slowly raised his head, originally deep eyes thick as ink, lips with a creepy smile gentle, "this world or not?"

The slight imperceptible sigh sounded, vaguely revealing the madness and paranoia, "I will always follow you."

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