According to Wu Yu, Chen's family usually lives in a large villa in Beijing, and Feng Yan has been married for at least twenty years. That is to say, they have lived together for so long, maintaining such a family atmosphere and balance.

  I always feel that this is not quite right for a family.

  "What's on your mind?" Wu Yu suddenly asked in a very low voice.

  Even when we sit together, there is still a distance of half a person between us.

  I looked at him and smiled: "Nothing."

  We stared at each other for a few seconds, he turned his head, still with an expressionless face. But his eyes made my heart beat unsteadily. It was as if we both knew something, but neither of us said anything.

  Those words we suppressed between us half a year ago on that night, we both pretended to have forgotten.

  Not long after, someone rang the doorbell. Tang Lanlan went to open the door, and her laughter came: "Zhiwei is here, carrying so many things. Mom, Zhiwei is here."

  The newcomer's voice was low and magnetic, with a hint of laughter: "Sorry to trouble you, Auntie, I've come to pay my New Year's respects."

  I didn't expect Chen Baozhu's man to be quite handsome.

  Zheng Zhiwei is about 1.7 meters tall, and compared to my family's Ou Yun, he can't be considered short among Southern men either. Wearing a black woolen coat with a suit and leather shoes underneath, he has the typical elite attire. His skin is fair, his eyebrows are elegant, and when he smiles, his eyes seem to shine. I've heard from Ou Yun that this person is a rich second-generation heir, although not from an extremely wealthy family, but rather the second son of a medium-sized private enterprise. So he's also considered a match for the Chen family.

  He was originally supposed to die in the fire the next day as well.

  Zheng Zhiwei was holding several boxes of ginseng and bird's nest, Tang Lanyan smiled as she took them over. Zheng Zhiwei whispered something else, and Tang Lanyan laughed even more openly, carrying the things inside. Feng Yan also walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, smiling and saying: "Zhiwei is here."

  Zheng Zhiwei's mouth is particularly sweet, saying: "Ah, sister-in-law, come to give you New Year's greetings. Where's Baozhu?"

  Feng Yan said: "Upstairs."

  Mrs. Chen looked at the things he brought and smiled, saying: "I don't eat these things, why spend money?" Zheng Zhiwei walked over and said: "Auntie, it's just a small token of my intention, please don't look down on it." Mrs. Chen smiled but didn't say anything. Zheng Zhiwei asked a few more questions with concern, and the old lady answered slowly, finally revealing a smile. And Zheng Zhiwei was laughing loudly all along.

  Thinking back to yesterday, the old lady's attitude when mentioning Zheng Zhiwei made me boldly speculate that this future son-in-law is probably like a chicken rib to her - not particularly valued, but not bad either.

  At this time, Zheng Zhiwei also looked at us and said: "Who are these two?"

  "This is your brother's disciple and a writer friend of his. They also came over to visit in the past few days."

  Zheng Zhiwei immediately extended his hand to Wu Yu: "Nice to meet you, welcome to our humble abode."

  "Nice to meet you."

  Then Zheng Zhiwei looked at me and smiled. His voice was really low, soft and pleasant to hear: "You're a writer? I've never met a writer before."

  What he said was actually quite ordinary, but he's originally good-looking with clear eyebrows and eyes that have a faint light in them, as if he's looking at you very carefully while talking to you, rather than just being polite. My little heart unexpectedly quickened its beat a bit, and I felt a bit shy. And there was a faint smile in his eyes.