This page looks best with JavaScript enabled
Chapter Sixty Nine
By the airport, ambulances and fire trucks are already ready.
The huge aviation tires rubbed the ground violently, spattering dazzling white sparks. As if competing fiercely with the god of death, this huge plane taxied quickly on the runway. If you look closely, you can find that its nose is always swaying from side to side.
Everyone's hearts mentioned their throats.
The ambulance and fire engine were moving forward at full speed, following the plane. The people in the tower also went downstairs and drove up to the runway.
However, no one knows that at this moment, when everyone in the world sweats their palms and rushes to this dangerous battlefield nervously, the young man in the center of the battlefield sits in the crazy tremor of the driver’s seat, holding his left hand. Holding the rudder, holding the joystick in his right hand, looking straight ahead, his expression calm and calm.
The entire plane was shaking, and the entire cockpit was shaking, but he sat steadily, pulled the rudder tightly, and pushed the throttle in the opposite direction as in any normal landing.
Finally, the front tires burst after a long period of friction. The entire plane instantly lost control and turned wildly to the right. But Fucheng frowned slightly, his face remained unchanged, and then, in an effort to turn the tide, he pulled the direction of the entire plane.
"Om—"
The behemoth finally slid onto the lawn on the right side of the runway, and came to a halt in a violent up and down bump.
The fire engine immediately began to spray fire extinguishing foam on the flaming landing gear. The ambulance followed.
Fucheng sat in the driver's seat. He did not unfasten the seat belt, but methodically, in accordance with the rules and procedures, turned off the switches of the various parts of the aircraft one by one. Finally, close the throttle.
Unfasten the seat belt, open the cockpit door, and leave the plane.
At the moment of seeing the sun again, the dazzling sunshine of early summer in Los Angeles made Fucheng's eyes narrowed uncontrollably. He was in a daze when he saw a man pushing aside the crowd and coming over.
Zhuo Huan grabbed him and looked up and down: "Is there any injury?"
Fucheng moved his hands and feet, and rolled up his sleeves: "I hit a little bit when I landed last."
I saw a large piece of blood on my thin wrist. Going up along the bruised bloodskin, along the elbow, is a dazzling bruise. The sudden violent impact caused the congestion to accumulate under the epidermis. The injury is not serious, but it can be set off by the fair skin, and suddenly it has a shocking meaning.
With an unspeakable and unfamiliar feeling, Zhuo Huan raised his eyes and glanced at the calm youth in front of him, and couldn't help but say: "Can you fucking give me a special reaction."
Fucheng was stunned: "...?" He didn't quite understand, what kind of special reaction is needed.
Before getting off the plane, he didn't even notice that he was injured. He didn't notice the tingling pain on his arm until Zhuo Huan said it. This injury is really not serious, and it seems to be tickle compared to some of the training he used to serve in the past.
Zhuo Huan was too lazy to scold this person any more. He dragged Fucheng to the ambulance and said to the doctor: "Help him deal with the wound."
It only took five minutes to treat the wound.
Everyone in Mai Fei gathered around the scrapped landing gear to conduct data collection and research again. Fucheng shook his arms wrapped in gauze. He stepped up to Zhuo Huan and said something in his ear.
Zhuo Huan took a look at him and said to Johnny, "He was injured, and I will find someone to take him back to the hotel to rest."
Johnny: "I really don't need to do more rigorous inspections? Our previous test pilot hit his head and had a slight concussion."
Fucheng shook his head: "It's okay, I know where I hit."
Johnny immediately arranged for someone to take Fucheng back to the hotel to rest.
After getting in the car, Fucheng looked back at the airport. saw a lot of people crowding around the plane. There are so many people, it is impossible for him to find Zhuo Huan. So he retracted his gaze, Fucheng turned on the phone, but before doing anything, a message jumped out first. Fucheng was taken aback for a moment, then clicked on the message.
[Zhuo Huan: So boring, how about you. 】
The message was sent one hour ago.
...At that time, he seemed to be flying a plane, didn't Zhuo Huan know that.
Fucheng frowned, looked at the news for a long time, and finally chose to close the news without replying.
The car drove completely away from the wheat airport. On the wide and deserted road, Fucheng looked down at his mobile phone. Sitting in the front seat was Mai Fei’s driver, and he looked at the phone screen blankly, word by word, and began to tap the keyboard in the memo to enter Mai Fei’s confidential flight data.
Just as Fucheng calmly wrote down the important data that he had jotted down, a group of excellent aircraft designers in the Mai Airport started a discussion around the landing gear of the aircraft.
A designer said: "The F485 landing gear, theoretically, can withstand a speed of 150 knots and a weight of 540 tons. Even with the improved design of neo, the landing speed is slightly lower than 150 knots, but the weight is far less than 540 tons. , Its empty weight is 180 tons."
Another person said: "But the landing gear is not completely scrapped. Look, the F485's landing gear is just a tire burst, and only one front wheel burst. In addition, the landing gear is slightly twisted, but it's not like the last test flight. That way, it's completely broken."
"What do you think." Mr. Reiner said suddenly, and everyone was silent at once.
Everyone looked at Zhuo Huan.
Zhuo Huan supported his chin with one hand, and was suddenly called by someone. He chuckled, his tone of confidence and boldness: "I don't know. But how the plane was improved...makes me even more curious."
Mr. Renner glanced at him and responded with a sneer.
That night, after Zhuo Huan returned to the hotel, he did not go back to his room, but knocked on the door of Fucheng.
The two looked at each other, and Fucheng took out a set of printed data from the study.
Fucheng: "It's all here."
Zhuo Huan sat cross-legged on the sofa and scanned all the data in three minutes. He raised his head and asked Fucheng: "Is there any special feeling the moment I landed on the ground?"
Fucheng thought for a while: "There is nothing too special, but the nose gear suddenly reaches the maximum load, and the rudder is difficult to control."
This answer is that during the daytime, McFei's data analyst has already reached a conclusion through the computer.
Zhuo Huan was completely interested. He threw the information on the coffee table and smiled casually: "It's kind of interesting."
Fucheng glanced at him, bowed his head and drank water.
"What do you think is the case."
Fucheng's voice was calm: "I don't know."
Originally, Zhuo Huan just asked him casually. It seemed that he was asking Fucheng, but he was actually asking himself. He slowly leaned back and leaned on the back of the sofa, his eyes gradually becoming longer and far-reaching, condensed in a point that could not be touched in the void.
In the room, only the wall is ticking softly.
Fucheng held a cup of hot water and looked at him quietly.
No one knows how long it has passed, Zhuo Huan's eyes focused sharply. He looked at Fucheng, originally wanting to tell him the answer he guessed, but his gaze suddenly stopped when he touched the young man who quietly stared at him.
It seems that no matter how interesting theories, no matter how profound the answers are, they are meaningless at this moment.
Zhuo Huan stood up, walked to Fucheng, leaned over and kissed his lips.
"How is the injury on the arm."
When the man got up and walked over, Fucheng never thought that he would kiss himself gently, and then asked this sentence. The moment Zhuo Huan stood up, what he thought was: The condom in his room doesn't seem to be on the bedside table in the bedroom.
After a brief loss of consciousness, Fucheng lowered his eyes to reduce the color of his eyes, and said lightly: "It's okay."
Zhuo Huan let out a soft "Oh", Fucheng's indifferent words made the inexplicable feeling in his heart appear quickly, and then disappeared silently.
Zhuo Huan: "Pour me a glass of water."
Fucheng got up and poured him a cup of hot water.
When he returned, Zhuo Huan raised his eyebrows at him: "All the wings that meet Kuta's conditions have produced corresponding wing loops, and the corresponding lift can be calculated according to Bernoulli's theorem. The larger the aircraft, the heavier the aircraft is. The more lift is needed."
Fucheng: "Huh? Common sense of aerodynamics."
Zhuo Huan: "There is a problem with the fluid viscosity of this aircraft." He looked down at the data printed by Fucheng, and pressed his fingers on the black numbers. "Tor Rainer is a bit interesting, even The maximum pressure that the F485's landing gear could not withstand...In other words, how far did he increase the instantaneous maximum lift of this aircraft?"
In June, the landing gear of the Maifei F475neo was improved, and progress was still slow.
Mai Fei is always hiding it, only giving a theoretical model that he needs, and let Zhuo Huan work with them to improve it.
Zhuo Huan didn't care, he hadn't been certified, but he seemed to believe that the improvement direction of Maifei's new model must be to change the maximum lift of the aircraft.
With a direction, he began to follow this path, pondering the improvement plan of his teacher.
Within a month, Fucheng conducted four more test flights. After the fourth test flight, the plane landed smoothly. But after getting off the plane in Fucheng, he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs to dissipate the heat, and looked at the people in the Maifei laboratory, and said firmly: "No. A smooth landing contains clever synthesis and technical ingredients. The moment of landing. I feel that its landing gear is at the critical point of collapse. No more than 10% of the world’s pilots can make a smooth landing. And in this ratio, if you are unlucky, there will be accidents."
Mr. Renner frowned.
Zhuo Huan laughed: "The cost is too high, and it is impossible to use this improved scheme to design a new landing gear."
Mr. Renner snorted coldly: "Go on."
After the test flight, Fucheng left the laboratory and found a place to rest. He leaned against the wall, playing with his phone seemingly idly, Johnny glanced at him from a distance and nodded in satisfaction. However, no one knew, Fucheng kept in mind the data of each test flight, then recited them all and sent them to Zhuo Huan.
After the last data input was completed, Fucheng checked it again, and suddenly received a message from Su Fei.
Open the message.
The punk boy sent six points.
【Su Fei:. . . . . . 】
Fucheng: "...?"
[Fucheng: Huh? 】
[Su Fei: I can't hold it anymore...]
[Fucheng:? ? ? 】
[Su Fei: Ah, ah, ah, ah, I really can’t hold it anymore! 】
Fucheng: "..."
what's the situation?
However, after waiting for five minutes, there was no more news from Su Fei.
Fucheng thought for a while and made a call. Soon, the minor answered the phone, but faced with Fucheng’s problem, he hesitated and said: "Can’t hold it? Ah, it’s nothing. Just, it’s nothing! Fu brother, I just have a long vacation. , Suffocated! Yes, suffocated. It's so boring, so I think you are still working and how hard I am, so I want to chat with you!"
Fucheng: "..."
After a pause, Fucheng: "Is nothing really happening?"
"No! Of course not!"
Fucheng raised an eyebrow.
At the same time, in the Maifei laboratory, Zhuo Huan walked out of the laboratory with his hands in his pockets. He walked to the door of the smoking room, opened the glass door with one hand, and took out the silver cigarette case from his pocket with the other. Gently press the finger on the side, a cigarette pops out and ignites with a click.
Taking a deep breath of smoke, Zhuo Huan looked through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the smoking room and saw Fucheng standing by the balcony, seeming to be calling someone.
He squinted his eyes and looked at the tall and thin young man quietly.
The door of the smoking room was pushed open again.
Zhuo Huan turned his head and looked around. The dismissive expression on his face was slightly reduced, and he nodded to his teacher.
Thor Reiner rarely smokes. He was also a smoker when he was young, but when he got older, he slowly gave up this damn thing. After he walked into the smoking room, he did not smoke or speak, just walked to the bar and got himself a bottle of whiskey.
Zhuo Huan watched him walk over, until he opened the bottle of wine, he said: "Smoke hurts your body, doesn't wine hurt your body."
Mr. Renner sneered, and didn't care about the concern of Uncle Zhuo.
I picked an ice cube and poured the whiskey. Thor Reiner looked at his former student coldly: "When will you come back?"
Zhuo Huan looked at him and asked, "When did I say I am coming back."
Mr. Renner mocked: "Then you want to stay in that UCG investigation team forever? What kind of boring and useless air crash investigator? What a waste, Reid, you really disappoint me."
Zhuo Huan said lightly: "Oh, fortunately your disappointment will not sentence me to hell, nor will it make me lose a penny."
"Come on, fishing that plane is enough to bankrupt you!"
Zhuo Huan: "I won't go bankrupt."
The white-haired old man smiled: "Can you survive this year?"
Zhuo Huan was silent for a moment. When he raised his head again, he showed a familiar confident and arrogant smile: "That's really a shame. If I really go bankrupt, I can only go back and inherit the Patrick Group. I really don't want to at all. It’s painful to inherit the Patrick Group."
Mr. Reina: "..."
Fuck, this kid is still so annoying!
Mr. Renner coldly left a sentence: "You will come back sooner or later, or come back dingy. You want to design an airplane. From the moment you arrive at the Maifei factory, you can't help it, you The whole blood is beating, tut, Reid·Irvin·Patrick, you can't hide from my eyes, the moment you set foot on the land of Los Angeles, you want to come back every second." After speaking, he lifted up and walked away. With the conceit of a winner.
Just as Mr. Reiner was about to leave the smoking room, Zhuo Huan remained silent for a long time before speaking again: "There is a proverb in China that urges horses not to turn their heads back."
Reina stopped and looked back at him.
Zhuo Huan bit his cigarette holder, looked at him with a faint smile, and spit out the smoke ring: "Don't worry, I will not return to Mai Fei for the rest of my life."
Reina: "..."
Leaving a sneer, Thor Reiner pushed the door to leave.
After smoking, Zhuo Huan walked to the balcony, and Fucheng also hung up the phone with Su Fei.
Zhuo Huan asked lazily, "Who should I call."
Fucheng raised his head and replied, "Su Fei."
Zhuo Huan's eyes moved, and he calmly asked, "What are you doing."
Fucheng shook his head: "I don't know, he seems to have something, but he refuses to say it."
Zhuo Huan broke the topic: "Oh. How about the data."
Fucheng: "It's all done just now."
Zhuo Huan: "Well, then you go back to the hotel."
There is no more words, with the smell of smoke that hasn't dissipated on his body, Zhuo Huan turned and walked into the laboratory again. Fucheng looked at his back, stayed silent for a while, and turned to leave.
The meaning of Zhuo Huan's words, Fucheng knew that he planned to work overtime again tonight, so he asked himself to go back first.
Sitting in the car, Fucheng thought for a while and sent a message: [Tell me when I return to the hotel at night, I will send you the information. 】
It took an hour before received a reply.
[Zhuo Huan: Yes. 】
Until two o'clock in the morning, there was no news from a certain man. Fucheng lay on the sofa and fell asleep. When he woke up in the morning, he turned on the phone. At three o'clock, Zhuo Huan sent a message.
After washing, after hesitating for a few seconds, Fucheng took the information and knocked on Zhuo Huan's door.
I thought the man should be sleeping, but after a few seconds, the door was opened. The moment the door opened, the strong smell of smoke made Fucheng frowned involuntarily. After Zhuo Huan opened the door for him, he walked back to the study without looking at him at all. After sitting down in the study, he remembered: "Did you bring the materials?"
Fucheng put the information on the table and asked: "You haven't slept all night?"
Zhuo Huan sneered and said, "He provokes me."
Fucheng: "...what?"
Zhuo Huan scratched his hair irritably: "It's nothing. What time is it?"
Fucheng glanced at his watch: "It's half past nine."
"Hold!"
As if the clockwork was suddenly installed, the man moved quickly. In front of Fucheng, he moved quickly to undress and put on new ones. He was full of smoke. He raised his head and asked Fucheng, "Is there any perfume?"
Fucheng: "..."
"Why do you think I have perfume?"
Zhuo Huan frowned: "No?"
Fucheng was silent for a long time: "...Yes."
He took a bottle of men's perfume from his room, and Fucheng sprayed it on the man. In fact, Fucheng has never used perfume herself. This perfume is a gift that Lina bought for everyone before she left Los Angeles to go on vacation. Everyone has a gift, Su Fei is the latest game console, Joseph Sr. is a fitness ring, and Fucheng is a perfume. No one knows what Zhuo Huan is.
Putting on clean clothes and spraying perfume to cover up the smell of smoke, Zhuo Huan grabbed his hair in front of the mirror and tied it into a small pull.
Fucheng couldn't help asking: "Who are you going to see?"
Zhuo Huan: "Huh?"
There was silence, Fucheng didn't ask any more, but Zhuo Huan understood what he meant. He curled up the corners of his mouth, gave a soft "Ah", pinched Fucheng's chin, and forced him to look up at him. "Yeah, I'm going to meet someone."
Fucheng's expression was calm: "Oh."
Looking at the young man's expression, Zhuo Huan narrowed his eyes slightly, and he patted Fucheng's cheek: "I really want to fuck you now."
Fucheng averted his face and avoided Zhuo Huan's movements. He asked: "The person you want to see is Mr. Tor Reiner?"
Zhuo Huan fell silent. After a while, he sneered and said, "Let him know that I haven't slept all night, just to find out what the hell did he do on that plane?"
Fucheng glanced at him and said nothing.
The two got off the elevator together.
Zhuo Huan was leaning against the elevator railing with his hands in his pockets. Because he was too tired, he frowned irritably. Through the reflective mirror of the elevator, Fucheng quietly looked at him.
Zhuo Huan rarely wears clothes so seriously, takes care of his hair so seriously, and sprays himself with perfume.
The over-superior appearance always makes people forget his overly casual dress every day, but after careful modification, he tilted his head slightly, and the movement of tidying up the mechanical strap was unspeakably handsome and elegant.
This person may have indeed inherited his father's genes.
The eyebrows are handsome and long eyes, the bridge of the nose is as tall as a cut, and the thin lips are always ridiculous. The long and thick eyelashes blocked those eyes, but Fucheng knew that those eyes were as bright as morning stars, and contained the starlight of the entire universe.
Fucheng quietly looked at the person in the mirror, and suddenly Zhuo Huan raised his head. In the mirror, the two looked at each other.
Before Fucheng had time to withdraw his gaze, he subconsciously showed a look of error on his face, and then quickly turned his face away.
The air was silent for a moment, and in the elevator, only the sound of machinery was heard.
His breath became heavy, Fucheng looked down, and he heard a man's smiling voice behind him.
"Fucheng."
Then he responded calmly: "Huh?"
"Do you know when I first wanted to fuck you."
The heartbeat speeded up suddenly, ringing in the throat. Fucheng raised his eyes, and calmly returned a single-syllable word: "Huh?"
Zhuo Huan looked at him calmly and smiled: "JAL 917, on the plane that went to the North Pole for a test flight. You squat and give me medicine. Do you know what is on your face."
Even his breathing was almost choked by the rapid heartbeat, but he knew that this person must have no good answer. Fucheng retracted his gaze to look at the man, his tone indifferent: "I don't know, and I don't want to know... Um..."
The passionate kiss sealed the man's soft but merciless lips.
Zhuo Huan clasped Fucheng's wrist, pressed him against the cold elevator wall, lowered his head, and kissed him hard. The familiar temperature and taste make the body faster than consciousness and begin to respond. Fucheng opened his lips, turned his head slightly, closed his eyes, and kissed the man in the falling elevator.
The tip of the tongue licked every inch of the skin in the young man's mouth, forcibly occupying it, and then leaving behind the breath of Zhuo Huan.
The two kissed passionately until the lips were red and swollen, and the corners of the lips were overflowing with colorless water. Fucheng lowered his head and panted, and he reached out his hand to wipe off the saliva from his lips that he did not know who belonged to. Zhuo Huan held his face, looked straight into the depths of his eyes, and said one by one: "Same as before, Fucheng, your face is written"
"You want to be fucked by me."
"From then on, I missed you. I missed you, missed you so much..."
A close and gentle kiss fell on the young man's slightly swollen lips. Ming Mingyuan was not as intense as before, but like a warm wind, it hit his chest. Fucheng couldn't help but lifted his head, and gently kissed the man back. He suddenly had courage for the first time, and suddenly he really wanted to take this person's hand.
The elevator door dinged open, and both of them paused.
Zhuo Huan stepped out first, and Fucheng quickly followed.
The two walked side by side, and the sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty and dim underground parking lot.
A month ago, after Lina left Los Angeles, Zhuo Huan had been driving every day to take two people to the Maifei factory. Zhuo Huan was born in Los Angeles. He was very familiar with the city and everything went smoothly.
Neither of them would delay work just because of going to bed. Fucheng forgot what had just happened, and he saw Zhuo Huan's Pagani sports car from a distance. At this time, there was a faint sound of high heels in the empty underground parking lot.
It stands to reason that this is extremely normal.
This is the hotel's parking lot. At the same time, many white-collar workers in high-end office buildings nearby will park their cars here, although they have to pay a high parking fee. It is quite reasonable for other car owners to appear in the parking lot, but somehow, a strange premonition quickly flashed through Fucheng's heart.
Zhuo Huan's hand holding the car key also slowly stopped.
He turned around and looked at the woman who was approaching them.
It was a feminine and beautiful Asian woman with long black and smooth hair and elegant and beautiful eyes. Because she is too thin, even with a height of more than 1.7 meters, she looks weak in Liu Fufeng. Fucheng almost felt that such thin high-heeled shoes shouldn't hold her weak body, but she just stepped on the high-heeled shoes and walked in front of the two of them.
Then he stopped, raised his head, and looked at Zhuo Huan.
Her eyes flickered and her voice was full of disappointment, she said, "Reid, when did you know that your father found another woman outside."
Zhuo Huan looked at her steadily, then sneered: "boring." He turned and left.
The woman stopped him and said angrily: "You help him lie to me!"
Zhuo Huan didn't look at her at all, he breathed irritably and strode towards his car.
"That's the car your father gave you! You knew it, he had hooked up with that golden-haired bitch a long time ago. You know, you actually lied to me, you actually helped him lied to me!"
Zhuo Huan couldn't bear it: "You fucking sick!"
"Snapped"
An exhausted slap hit Zhuo Huan's face severely, caught off guard, Zhuo Huan was beaten to the side by her, and a complete red mark soon appeared on his face.
Fucheng was stunned. He took a step forward, but before he moved, he saw Zhuo Huan's mother red eyes and shouted in despair and angrily: "I'm your mother, I'm your mother! You! Dad treated me like that, how could you help him lie to me, how could you!" When the voice fell, her eyes were scarlet, with a viciousness that was very different from this weak face, she raised her hand again and slammed it down.
However, this slap was stopped by Zhuo Huan.
He grabbed the woman's wrist, slowly raised his head, and looked at her mockingly: "Slap is enough, just take it when you see it, you understand."
Clear eyes were infested with strong malice and irony, Zhuo Huan's emotionless look seemed to scare his mother. This weak-looking woman was struggling to free her wrist from her son’s shackles, but she was horrified to discover the power difference between men and women, no matter how hard she tried, Zhuo Huan still pressed her arm with no expression to make her Unable to move.
The next moment, Zhuo Huan sneered and let go of her hand, turned and walked towards his car. He turned around, not to his mother, but to Fucheng: "Are you fucking stupid, come here!"
Fucheng pursed his lips and followed.
The violent engine sound of Pagani's supercar shook the entire underground parking lot. After the car fell out of the parking space, Fucheng turned to look at Zhuo Huan. Zhuo Huan took a cigarette and lit it, with sarcasm and icy smiles between his eyebrows and eyes.
The car was about to start, but Fucheng suddenly saw a woman in the distance with her hands open, blocking the road.
She yelled loudly: "Go get your dad back, he doesn't want me, you have to help me get him back!"
Zhuo Huan opened his eyes wide and patted the steering wheel angrily: "You are sick!"
She cried, as if she couldn't hear Zhuo Huan's words, and kept repeating: "He hasn't answered my call for half a month. He doesn't want me anymore. Go get him back for me, you get him back... "
"Step aside!"
"Do not!"
"You fucking get out of here!"
"I don't! You are my son, you must go find him for me! You can run over my corpse if you have the ability!"
The woman closed her eyes and yelled like crazy. Suddenly, Fucheng felt bad, he turned his head to look at Zhuo Huan. The next moment, he gritted his teeth, let out a low growl from his throat, and stepped on the accelerator.
Fucheng opened his eyes wide: "Zhuo Huan!"
The top sports car accelerates to the extreme in a second. In just two seconds, it could kill the woman who was blocking the road. When the sports car started, Zhuo Huan's mother seemed to realize that it was wrong. She paled with fright and ran to the side quickly. Fucheng wanted to hold Zhuo Huan, but it was impossible for him to have time, so he could only rely on Zhuo Huan to avoid this tragedy.
I saw Zhuo Huan smashing the steering wheel hard, and then the car headed into the pillar of the parking lot.
With a violent collision, the car's airbag bounced out.
It took half a minute for Fucheng to recover. He looked up at the front of the car. This top supercar has been completely crushed and scrapped, and the entire front of the car is tilted. He turned his head to look at Zhuo Huan again, only to see Zhuo Huan supporting his forehead with one hand, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.
Fucheng's gaze crossed him and looked at his mother.
The woman fell to the ground, her legs in her skirt hit the ground, both legs were worn and bleeding, although it was only a bruise, the wound was grim. Her face was pale, her eyes trembled in horror in her eye sockets, and the blood was flowing down her calf.
Fucheng frowned, he opened the door of the car, and wanted to go down to help him.
"Do not open the door."
After a pause, Fucheng turned around and looked at Zhuo Huan.
The man still closed his eyes, his voice almost squeezed out between his teeth.
For a long time, Fucheng still said: "She seems to be unable to stand up."
"I want you to fucking do it?!" Zhuo Huan opened his eyes, his eyes flushed, staring at Fucheng indifferently.
There was no sound in Fucheng for an instant.
There was a long silence, and the woman outside the car shouted in horror and hoarsely: "Monster, Zhuo Huan, you are a monster! You are not a human... beast, you are a beast!" She staggered and got up, almost killed. Fear made her escape in embarrassment.
When everything belongs to tranquility.
After a long time, Fucheng said softly: "Your hand seems to be bleeding."
Zhuo Huan looked down at his bleeding fingers, and wiped the blood on his clothes blankly. The blood ran out as soon as it dried, so he continued to wipe it.
There was a voice in his heart. Looking at the man's face filled with hostility, Fucheng opened his mouth and asked the sentence: "What's wrong with your mother, it seems that there is something wrong with her mental state."
The action of wiping the blood stains stopped, and Zhuo Huan slowly turned his head to look at him. After a long time, he asked: "Huh?"
Fucheng was silent and continued: "The relationship between you does not seem to be very good."
Zhuo Huan looked at him calmly, Fucheng stared at him.
After a long and long gaze, Zhuo Huan curled up his mouth and smiled sarcastically: "You control a lot, Fucheng."
The heart was suffocated, and the young man withdrew all his concerns. He said indifferently, "No, just talk about it."
"Oh?" The deliberately elongated tone, echoed in the empty parking lot, was like the deepest irony.
Fucheng: "The car broke down, do you want to go to Mai Fei? You are injured, please deal with it first."
Zhuo Huan: "Fucheng."
Fucheng looked up at him.
Under the dazzling white light of the parking lot, the man lowered his eyes, looked at him with a smile, and said mocking and realistic words in a smiling voice: "You fucking thought I slept with me, just Can you point fingers at me?"
Breathing stopped completely at this moment.
Fucheng quietly looked at the man who was eroded by endless malice in front of him. He opened his mouth and heard himself say in a plain tone: "No."
Zhuo Huan: "Oh, do you know that, my memory is very good."
"Um?"
"I can remember everything by watching it three times at most."
"so?"
"I've seen the list of the victims of Roger 318 87 times. The surname of Fu is quite rare. I have seen two in my life. One is you and the other. By the way, it seems to be the victims of Roger 318. On the list?"
Looking at the casual smile on the man's face, listening to his understatement. Fucheng nodded and said, "Yes, that's my uncle." After that, he opened the car door and walked on, "I should have gone to Maifei today. You are injured, and my ankle was twisted just now. It's here. Teacher Zhuo, I will contact the person under Mai Fei and ask for a leave."
Fucheng got out of the car and walked to the elevator.
He did twist his ankle, which seemed not serious, but his walking posture was high and low.
Zhuo Huan sat in the car and watched him walk towards the elevator step by step. His eyes grew deeper and deeper, just when Fucheng was about to come to the corner, he slammed the door down and called him: "Hey, Fucheng."
Fucheng turned around: "Is there anything else, Teacher Zhuo."
Zhuo Huan looked at his indifferent expression. After a few seconds of silence, he sneered and said, "It's nothing."
Fucheng glanced at him, retracted his gaze, and walked into the elevator.
The elevator door jingled, and the figure of the young man disappeared in the door gap that was gradually closing.
In the silent underground parking lot, the man kicked the scrapped super sports car: "Fuck!"
In the elevator, the moment the door closed.
The piercing pain has been forgotten for a long time, and at this moment, it is crawling all over the body along the ankle. Fucheng leaned against the cold elevator wall. He slowly raised his hand and covered his eyes with his arm. You can't cry when you cry, but the heart seems to be hollowed out, and there is nothing in the body.
He always knew that Zhuo Huan had never taken it seriously.
He likes Asian men with black hair and black eyes.
However, he still fell in love with this man.
From the first sight of this man in the military auditorium eight years ago, it has been a long-standing obsession and admiration. It's not like, but it's more profound than like. He longed for, believed in, and regarded this man as a god for six years. And to love again is actually very easy. He is like a pedestrian stepping into the swamp, sinking deeper and deeper, and there is no possibility of getting out.
When the elevator reached the first floor, an old couple came up.
The old woman looked at Fucheng's extremely ugly face, and was stunned for a moment. She hesitated and asked softly.
"What's wrong, boy."
Fucheng was stunned. After a while, he closed his red eyes and smiled gently: "It's nothing, I remembered something unhappy."