The Nomenclature of the Night

Chapter Two: Count down

The middle-aged woman walked quickly to the door of Fulai Supermarket. She looked at the old man: "Uncle Zhang, why did Qingchen come to play chess with you again."

The two sides of the speech also know each other.

It's just that Uncle Zhang's tone was not so polite: "Your own son, you ask me? He has no living expenses, so he can only earn a little money for himself by playing chess."

The middle-aged woman Zhang Wanfang was stunned for a moment: "But I have to pay his father Qingchen's living expenses every month."

This made Uncle Zhang stunned for a moment: "Then I don't know what's going on."

Uncle Zhang thought about it, Zhang Wanfang is not a poor person, and it seems that the living expenses for Qingchen are not too small, but why is the young man still living his life so tightly?

Qingchen doesn't look like a prodigal.

"But shouldn't he study at night at this time?" Zhang Wanfang asked.

Uncle Zhang only remembered at this time: "He seems to say that he is waiting for someone."

"No, I have to go home and take a look," Zhang Wanfang said.

As she said that, she was about to walk away with the cake, but she heard the man beside her suddenly say: "Wanfang, Haohao's birthday is today, we have already reserved a place, we have to take him to the movies after eating. !"

Zhang Wanfang looked back at the man: "Qingchen may have skipped class, I don't care if I don't ask."

"He's seventeen years old and can take care of himself. Besides, there's also his father," the man said, and then he calmed down, "Actually, you can go to see him later on the weekend. Today we'll accompany Haohao first. ?"

After hearing this, Zhang Wanfang frowned, but after a few seconds, she finally sighed: "Okay, let's celebrate Haohao's birthday today."

...

Qingchen walked silently under the camphor tree in the tree-lined path in the West Family Courtyard of the city government.

Different from the style of high-rise buildings in modern cities, this courtyard is a four-story low-rise building in the 1970s. There is no elevator, no gas, and the sewers are blocked from time to time.

High-power electrical appliances cannot be used at home because they will trip.

Qingchen walked into the dim doorway, ignoring the psoriasis-like advertisements on the wall for unlocking and selling houses, and took out the key to open the door on the first floor.

The house of 76 square meters has two bedrooms and one living room. The lighting of the house on the first floor is very poor.

He took out his mobile phone, opened the address book, and dialed out: "Hello, Dad..."

The voice over the phone had interrupted him: "Go to your mother for living expenses, I have no money, she is very rich now."

During the conversation, there was the sound of playing mahjong on the other side of the phone.

"I don't want money," Qing Chen said in a low voice, "I haven't asked you for money for a long time."

"What's that for?" the man said impatiently: "Going to school for a parent-teacher meeting again? Go to your mother, this kind of thing..."

Before waiting for the other party to finish speaking, Qing Chen took the initiative to hang up this time.

He leaned gently against the closed door, and then lifted the sleeves under his school uniform jacket.