Chapter 150: Fanwai·Past Life Volume

Zhao Lanxiang touched the dried tears on her cheeks, and a white handkerchief lay quietly on her palm.
The faint fragrance of the gardenia spreads out, like the footsteps of a carnival in midsummer. The stronger the aroma, the stronger the sweetness. The fragrance is not greasy, reflecting the white light, and the corner of Phrae reveals a very pale "cypress".
Zhao Lanxiang stunned that she hadn't recovered yet. She seemed to still have the warm words of strange men in her ears.
Such words seemed to bring strength, inch into ear, and gently knocked on the thick shackles wrapped around her heart. Zhao Lanxiang's eyes shed two lines of tears.
She shook her body with her hand, and her sobbing cry turned into wailing, as if she released all the forbearance and grievances of this day, squeezing out all the water from her body, and draining all her tears.
...
When He Songbai saw Zhao Lanxiang again the next day, he found that the woman whose mood collapsed yesterday returned to her original appearance: still orderly, busy and engaged in work.
But He Songbai, who is familiar with the human nature of the pillow, knows that some things have quietly changed.
There was a trace of spirit in her eyes, and she smiled more and more. Although the whole person was still weak, she brought a tenacity. It is as flexible as pampas grass, and it can't turn even if it is rock.
When He Songbai looked at the small restaurant opposite, his lips bent unconsciously. As a treacherous businessman who is accustomed to actuarial calculations, he did not take advantage of her most tormented and fragile time, and has exhausted few of his self-control.
I don't know what kind of thought she used to go to the countryside to see him, but He Songbai knew that no matter what purpose she had, her feelings for him were innocent and warm, without any hint of calculation. He wanted to be like this.
But his smile lasted for only a moment, and then flattened out.
"Lanxiang" has a tall figure in the ready-to-wear store, and it is Jiang Jianjun.
But Jiang Jianjun's head was sober this time, and he went in for a few minutes without making a move. There was no dispute in the shop opposite.
He Songbai put down a cup of tea with patience and drank it. With the passage of time, his tea was gradually unable to drink, and the stool could not sit for a moment.
He hurried down, he walked into the shop and looked around, and found that there was no figure in the empty place where Zhao Lanxiang often sat.
The chair was already cold, and He Songbai quickly asked, "What about your boss?"
The shop clerk at the shop said, "If you are not inside, you are out."
He Songbai squeezed into the cluttered room and found another door behind the shop, his face suddenly sinking.
He Songbai hurried across the street and jumped into his car parked on the side of the road. The sound of a tumbling car engine starting sounded, and he drove to the military compound.
...
Zhao Lanxiang followed behind Jiang Jianjun and walked into the former nest of love with a deep foot.
Where I lived for more than ten years, I said that no feelings are false. The house has been renovated twice before and after. When it first came in, it was the latest family building of the army, with white walls, new doors and windows, new marriages, new houses, and new loved ones.
The big house was little by little furnished and decorated by her, and there was also a smoky smell. After more than ten years, the marriage was broken and the feelings were broken. I can't hold my nose.
Jiang Jianjun didn't do anything, just watched her holding a big cardboard box and put down the things one by one, her jewelry box, her handicrafts, her paintings, books, notes she had saved for many years... … Lin Lin has packed up and can almost evacuate half the house.
The remaining half is bulky furniture that cannot be taken away. In fact, Jiang Jianjun's things are pitifully scarce. The house is full of traces of her. She has already taken deep roots. If you want to uproot it, your home will not look like it. Jiang Jianjun looked at it, his chest seemed to be stuffed with cotton, and it was so painful and stuffy that he couldn't breathe.
Love is like a weak underbelly that makes courageous people timid. Love is like a razor blade, drawing blood to see the blood, the knife is a deep wound.
Jiang Jianjun sat in a dark place in the shadow, almost silent as if there was no such thing. He looked at it for a long time before finally speaking: "Don't go, okay?"
"You are gone, this home is not like home anymore."
Zhao Lanxiang acted very neatly. Within half an hour, she had packed up three big boxes. She said calmly: "There is no regret medicine in the world."
"I have finished receiving, if there is anything left, I don't want it. You can throw it for me. You can send me these boxes when you are free. I'm gone..."
"but……"
Jiang Jianjun glanced at the messy house. When she didn't turn it over, he didn't know that the small house could hide so many things that belonged to her. She unauthorizedly turned it over, but wiped her hands away, leaving a mess of mess for him to clean up. There will be no more accompany of Zhao Lanxiang, how difficult it will be in the future, and no end in sight.
This feeling is terrible.
Zhao Lanxiang asked Jiang Jianjun to carry things down. Jiang Jianjun moved the carton downstairs with a heavy heart. When he returned home, Zhao Lanxiang sorted out a pile of discarded debris. She turned to a cowhide notepad and her eyes stopped After a few seconds, she tore her hands freely, and then threw the waste paper into the trash can.
The soft muffled sound of "slap", the ragged book fell into the waste heap.
Zhao Lanxiang held a small wooden box and left the house.
Jiang Jianjun picked up the white paper flowers from the trash can and held them one by one in the palm of his hand. The moment Juan Xiu's words hit his eyes, Jiang Jianjun's eyes were almost red.
"It's sunny on March 12, 1976. I saw your heroic figure in the drill field today. I hope that your ideal will be realized one day. You are a comrade worth learning and admiring."
"October 5, 1979, remember the first sentence you said to me is'Where are you going?' Now I just want to go where you go, where are you and where are I. Hope for safety, I am at home Waiting for you to triumph."
"On February 2, 1984, the winter in the north was cold. The clothes I sent you don’t know if you received them. Today you have to eat more dumplings and your blessings will continue. I hope you will always be safe and healthy. And, Happy New Year. "
Jiang Jianjun saw a throat in his throat, and his tears almost fell.
He chased out, and ran to the street outside until he held Zhao Lanxiang in his arms.
Zhao Lanxiang was frightened with a pale face, "What are you doing, let me go."
Jiang Jianjun forced her arms around her and said, "I went to the chief and re-issued the remarriage report."
"You can't go."
He lowered his head, covered her lips, and kissed violently and depressively.
Jiang Jianjun just kissed, and the soft and sweet taste poured into my heart, as if the honey juice fell into my heart, and the heart that had been hardened for half a winter seemed to bloom at that moment, and the snow and ice melted.
But he hadn't kissed for a long time, and a big casserole fist hit him head-on.
The fists were as dense as rain and storms, and they were beaten vigorously. Jiang Jianjun and the man were entangled and fought.
The person coming was He Songbai, who was too late. Like the irritated Tibetan Mastiff, he wished to bite off the other person's flesh. He used all his fists and feet fighting in the prison, specifically picking Jiang Jianjun's old injury Jiang Jiangjun's cotton underwear was soaked in bleeding traces, but He Songbai was still not a rival of Jiang Jiangjun, a general in the army.
He Songbai was beaten by Jiang Jianjun with blood from his mouth. He only felt a whirl of the sky, and the mercenaries who followed him hurriedly embraced and gave a helping hand.
Seven or eight big Han regiments surrounded Jiang Jianjun and took him to a remote alley, but Jiang Jianjun also had a anger in his heart, eager to vent. A fight is going on fiercely and silently...
In the end, Jiang Jianjun, who was wounded, was defeated with difficulty. He Songbai stepped on his hand and crushed it hard. He lowered his face and said fiercely: "Your Jiang family's handle is all in my hands."
"To harass her again, Jiang's family... don't forget it."
...
He Songbai wiped the blood from his face. He returned to his place and looked for Zhao Lanxiang. Finally he found her in the deep alley.
The moment her dark eyes lifted up, the snow was very bright.
He Songbai wiped the blood that had oozed from his face again, and smiled gently, with a very light smile, "Are you scared?"
"are you OK?"
Zhao Lanxiang shook her head, "It's okay."
Although she was shocked and disgusted at that moment, Jiang Jianjun was finally punished and paid the price, Zhao Lanxiang was relieved, and the disgust in her chest was much lighter.
But the shock was far more than the relief of the aftermath, and I haven't relieved it yet. At that moment, Zhao Lanxiang really felt the disparity between men and women. Facing Jiang Jianjun's coercion, she had no resistance.
He Songbai pulled out her handkerchief, leaned over and wiped her lips, carefully and undeniably. He said: "Here we can't let anyone kiss anymore."
"Finally, divorced."
He seemed to be no longer the silent and gentle man, stained with blood, and removed his slick and elegant shell, becoming extremely aggressive.
He kissed her a bit fiercely, and the kiss fell on her hand.
The full-bodied male voice with a faint smile faintly, mellow like wine, "Zhao Lanxiang, can I pursue you?"