Han Chenluo squatted beside the wall, and the light in front of his eyes suddenly turned dark. He knew that Xia Xingran had walked out, but at this moment, he only hated that he didn't squat low enough.
There was a burst of warmth above the head, and then Xia Xingran's always gentle voice sounded: "Are you hungry?"
Han Chenluo raised his head in surprise and met Xia Xingran's smiling eyes. The Adam's apple that rolled up and down frequently easily betrayed his panic at the moment.
Xia Xingran knew what was going on. Seeing that Han Chenluo was silent, she pulled him to his feet and said casually, "Since you're not hungry, come and see the baby with me."
Han Chenluo was like the male protagonist in a shadow puppet play, controlled at will by the craftsman Xia Xingran.
After a while, Xia Xingran stopped, took out his work ID card and swiped his card on the black machine at the door. With a "beep" sound, the red on the black machine turned into green. The door opened to both sides, making a heavy sound.
Han Chenluo finally became conscious. When he looked up, he saw that he was in the neonatal intensive care unit.
Xia Xingran whispered hello to the doctors and nurses inside, and then led Han Chenluo to a hospital bed in a familiar manner.
There was obvious regret in her eyes, and she pointed to the baby on the hospital bed whose skin was sore and red and covered with various tubes and said: "Xiao Luo, this is the daughter of the mother who gave birth just now. She was born with AIDS."
Han Chenluo immediately opened his eyes wide and opened his mouth again and again, but he was stunned without uttering a word.
Xia Xingran's eyes turned from the baby girl back to Han Chenluo's face, her teeth slightly exposed, her eyes suddenly brightened, she smiled at Han Chenluo, and the moment was like a dazzling fireworks.
"However, I am prepared to adopt her."
Han Chenluo didn't seem to hear, he froze his eyes, bit his lip, and remained silent. It took him a long time to react. He stared at Xia Xingran and confirmed, "Sister, did you just say you wanted to adopt this child?"
Xia Xingran nodded: "Well, I have thought about it comprehensively. I can still afford to raise this child. Although the initial treatment cost is relatively high, at worst, I can ask Uncle Chang to borrow some, and it will be the same if I return it to him in the future. .”
"Sister, why is this happening?" Han Chenluo showed great incomprehension. Han Chenluo had no objection to adopting a child, but the problem was that she was not a healthy child.
Xia Xingran was afraid of disturbing the child's rest, so he led Han Chenluo out. The sky was dark, and all the stars seemed to fall in Xia Xingran's eyes.
She pressed her back against the guardrail in the corridor, raised her head to meet Han Chenluo's doubtful eyes, looked at Han Chenluo meaningfully and said:
"Xiao Luo, you must know me very well. Things outside my body are not important to me. What I care about most is my inner peace."
When Han Chenluo heard this, he immediately turned his head, his face full of struggle and awkwardness.
Xia Xingran's eyelids blinked meaningfully from top to bottom, then lowered his head slightly, shrugged and continued with a clear smile: "Xiao Luo, there is no shortcut in life. If there is, it will require a huge price to be paid in the future. .”
"Xiao Luo, when I was most confused and in danger in my life, you told me righteously that using patients' dirty money to help children in orphanages is not charity at all. This kind of behavior is fundamentally fundamental. no change."
Xia Xingran opened her phone and slowly walked to Han Chenluo and handed it to him. Han Chenluo took it and took a look. It was a news report showing the heartbroken parents of the 25 firefighters who died when they received the ashes.
The deafening sound of wailing and wailing seemed to have cut a hole in Han Chenluo's heart. Time was like a pair of big hands, tearing his heart into countless pieces along the hole like tearing a piece of cloth.
Xia Xingran sniffed her nose twice, pushed back her tears, and took back her mobile phone.
She patted Han Chenluo's stiff back soothingly, like coaxing a child, reluctant to use a harsher tone, giving all her tenderness and patience, and said:
"Xiao Luo, I can understand you. It is good for people to make progress and make progress. Everyone wants to reach the sky in one step, leave that dirty and dark swamp hell, and live in the days when flowers are blooming and fire is cooking oil."
After she paused for half a second, she changed the topic and her eyes suddenly became indifferent and cold, like a frozen blade in the snow:
"But if you are doing it for me, you don't have to. Just like I want to adopt this child who was born with AIDS. I, Xia Xingran, will never judge a person based on his origin, class, or material possessions."
She turned around and stood with her hands behind her hands, her back straight, looking at the endless black outside the window, her tone was like wrapping an olive weighing a thousand kilograms:
"Xiao Luo, in my heart you have always been an upright and kind-hearted good boy. I don't want my appearance to mess up your supposedly clean life. This is too heavy, I can't afford it, and naturally I won't accept it. "
The gauze curtain on the window was blown by the late night wind, like a shaky piece of paper that was about to break at any time.
Half a day later, Xia Xingran touched the cold arm, turned around and smiled lightly at Han Chenluo and stretched out her hand: "Let's go home."
The so-called sincerity is the best nirvana, and that's probably the case.
…
It was already the second day when Chang Huan received the news. He almost didn't hesitate and immediately transferred 100,000 yuan to Xia Xingran.
Han Ranchen was painting. After hearing about this, a ball of color fell off the clean canvas. She paused, and then in just three or two strokes, the abrupt blob of paint turned into a running girl with a grin on her face.
"This child can be considered a great blessing among misfortunes." Han Ranchen was wearing a simple black and white dress, her long hair was tied with a pine hairpin, and a trace of distress flashed in her watery almond eyes.
Chang Huan rubbed his legs. He felt a little sore when he first got up a little faster. Han Ranchen caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye and hurriedly stretched out his smooth and slender legs, hooked them on the stool opposite, and placed them behind Chang Huan.
Chang Huan's face turned red, and a layer of fine sweat gradually formed on his forehead. He bent down and moved the stool back to the right, and then sat down with one leg propped up.
The two were speechless for a moment, and they could only hear Han Ran's rustling brush and Chang Huan's pounding heartbeat.
After half a day, Chang Huan's eyes finally changed direction under the load, looking at the painting that was almost completed. There seemed to be deep affection in his gentle and jade-like eyes.
"You changed the painting temporarily again." On the canvas is a playful mother and daughter, with sunshine, blue sky, white clouds and green grass.
A warm wind blew from the window, and Chang Huan's gray hair flying in the wind was slightly warm under the shadow of the sun, as if inlaid with a layer of shining gold.
Han Ranchen's paintings were extremely lifelike and lifelike. For a moment, Chang Huan felt as if he heard sweet laughter.
"I'm not as rich as you, I can only draw. It's just a small token of appreciation, but it's still a gift. I'll give it to the mother and daughter as a commemoration of their new beginning."
Han Ranchen deliberately flattened his mouth and his eyes flashed. His big black and white eyes looked innocent and innocent, full of mischief and cunning.
"You made fun of me again." Chang Huan pretended to be angry, but those smiling eyes betrayed him first.
After coming to Xinshi Autonomous Region, Han Ranchen began to pick up painting again due to the comfortable and comfortable life. Within a few months, the house they rented had already piled up.
Most of these paintings record local customs and customs, and a small number of them are inspired by Han Ranchen's feelings and express his aspirations through the paintings. She basically gave away the portraits, and she planned to hold an exhibition of the rest after the dust settled. If she was lucky enough to sell them, she would donate all the money.
After teasing for a while, Chang Huan rode the second-hand three-wheeled motorcycle and drove Han Ranchen to the post office dozens of kilometers away.
An hour later, the two arrived at the post office. Han Ranchen jumped out of the car, and the two of them dusted each other off.
When they packed up their clothes and were about to go in, they accidentally bumped into a postman who came out of the house, and they were knocked upside down.
After Han Ranchen helped Chang Huan up, he quickly helped the postman up as well. When he was about to say sorry, he felt that this person seemed a bit familiar.
The man was wearing a black mask and had a pair of dark eyes that kept turning. He raised his head and glanced at Han Ranchen, his pupils quickly shrank to needle-point sharpness.
He quickly stood up, waved his hands quickly, and then got into the green postal car as if he was running away. Within a few seconds, he disappeared.
"What's the matter, do we know each other?" Chang Huan stretched out his palm and waved it in front of Han Ranchen's confused eyes.
Han Ranchen came back to his senses, blinked a few times quickly and said, "I don't have much of an impression, but I still feel a sudden rush in my heart."
"Don't be motion sick. You go in first and sit down to rest while I mail the paintings." Chang Huan supported Han Ranchen with his right hand and pushed open the glass door with his left hand and entered the post office.
Han Ranchen looked at Chang Huan's limp back and couldn't help but look outside again. Finally, he got up and walked to the service desk and asked, "Hello, excuse me, how long has the postman been working for you?"
The staff at the service desk looked slightly confused, but still politely replied: "I'm not sure about that. What can I do for you?"
Han Ranchen frowned slightly, his deep eyes seemed distant and deep, full of doubts, and there was a touch of worry among the confusion.
"Then do you know his name?" Han Ranchen quickly added for fear of being spotted: "When I just entered the door, I accidentally bumped into him. I always feel a little regretful about it, you see..."
The staff at the service desk said oh, and his frown suddenly became clear. She lowered her head and rummaged through the table and found a folder. After opening it, he turned to a staff information sheet, then turned it around, picked it up, and handed it to Han Ranchen.
"Then, this is it." The staff member pointed to the ninth person from left to right in the sixth row.
"Cong Fan." Han Ranchen recited it several times silently, took out his cell phone and wrote down his contact information.
