Love At The Right Time (MTL)

3

Wen Qinghan's weekends are extremely leisurely, as has been the case for several years of work.

Some people always complain about why it hasn’t come to the weekend during workdays, but they feel very empty and boring on the weekends, and they are not as busy as they are at work. Although Wen Qinghan never complains, she is deeply aware of how leisurely her rest day is, so idle that sometimes she can only accompany her with work.

After washing, Wen Qinghan put the clothes he was going to wear on the bed, and inadvertently glanced at the silent cell phone. The expression of Qingqiu when he registered for the wedding appeared in his mind, as well as the phone calls and messages of Shi Qingqiu.

Three days later, there really isn't any news for myself. The notification on the day she left was like doing a routine for this marriage relationship. It was not sincere, and she would not return her thoughts afterwards.

This is the mode of getting along between them. They have never been close enough to become friends who talk about everything, and they will not be unfamiliar with each other. Their lives have been linked by two parents from birth. They have been playmates since they were young, and they have been friends until they got married.

Wen Qinghan’s long hair is longer than that of Shi Qingqiu. The tail of her hair hangs softly and obediently behind her. She is standing quietly and long, faintly revealing an extraordinary charm that does not blend in with the world. Unspeakable and elegant Tsinghua.

The phone shook suddenly, and Wen Qinghan regained his senses. He slightly bent over and took the phone to open WeChat. In the family group, his mother said: "I have breakfast, the old lady."

Wen Qinghan was expressionless, tapped his thumb lightly, sent a "I know", and then threw the phone back to the bed.

She opened the briefcase. In addition to the documents, there was a white-covered diary. Instead of reviewing the emotions she wrote before, she turned to the latest page. The white paper made her stunned after picking up the pen. Froze.

It seems that nothing is appropriate to write. Compared with the mood in the past, now this heart is like being hung in the air, neither up nor down, neither happy nor sad.

Wen Qinghan's expression has always been indifferent. She rubbed the pen body with her fingertips, and finally bent over and placed the diary on the bedside table, writing the date of the wedding day, and finally left a bold and atmospheric sentence:

We got married.

When Wen Qinghan went to the dining room, his father Wen Chengxuan was reading the newspaper while drinking milk. Wen Qinghan only slightly raised his eyes, and then continued to stare at the newspaper.

Mother Zhao Wanyi beckoned: "Qing Han, come and see what to eat."

Wen Qinghan owns a house. She mostly lives on her side during working days. After get off work on Friday, she returns to her parents' house to spend the weekend together. This has been her habit for several years and has never changed. Therefore, every time Wen Qinghan comes back, she will eat more food at home.

"Thank you, mom, I'll just eat porridge." Wen Qinghan pursed his lips and smiled, and went to sit down with a bowl of porridge by herself, a spoonful of the entrance, and she softly praised: "It's delicious."

Zhao Wanyi took the public chopsticks and put some dishes for her on the small dish in front of her. She smiled and said, "If you are delicious, eat more, eat so little. You see you are skinny and look like Qingqiu. You two are not anywhere. Like, this is the most similar appetite, people who don't like to eat too much, look at your mother, I am sad, and my hair is pale."