Pulan's cheeks were uncontrollably hot, and even after leaving the Accor Arena and entering the subway, the blush still did not dissipate.
She couldn't believe that she did this, that she actually did this.
"God!"
Pulan couldn't help but lower his head, hiding his slightly red cheeks to avoid others seeing his embarrassment and embarrassment. However, excitement and excitement surged uncontrollably, as if there were thousands of butterflies in his stomach.
It's like flapping its wings and flying, and it's really hard to describe in words.
He was annoyed and shy, but at the same time, Pulan was glad that he had done this and took this step bravely.
boom.
The subway door closed and then started, leaving the subway station. The swaying carriage and the breeze blowing in the face cooled down Pulan's fevered brain a little.
Suddenly, Pu Lan realized a possibility:
What if the man doesn't understand his message?
Or, what if the man understands but doesn't refuse to respond?
Should she set a time limit? Twenty-four hours? Three days? Seven days? Or a month? Why did she get herself into this situation?
"ah……"
Thinking of this, Pu Lan scratched her hair in frustration. She had never done such a thing before and didn't know if she was doing the right thing.
If...if the man doesn't respond, then she doesn't need to regret it, because at least she tried it and proved that they are not destined and there is no need to force it. She should just forget it like a new era woman.
But!
However, having said that, you should forget when you forget, and you should say goodbye when you say goodbye, but the point is, is it too embarrassing for you to take the initiative to send out signals so much?
Pu Lan's shoulders slumped, looking at his little leather boots, he couldn't help but gently rub the lines on the subway car floor, as if he was trying to soothe his anxiety.
However, those lines are so tenacious that they remain the same no matter how hard they are rubbed, without any change.
Buzz buzz.
At this moment, the phone vibrated. Pulan, who was immersed in his own thoughts, was startled and almost threw the phone away out of reflex.
Fortunately, my remaining sanity controlled me.
Pullan raised his head and looked at the carriage. The Parisians who were immersed in their own world did not notice her movements at all. Some were reading books, some were reading newspapers or magazines, some were looking down at their mobile phones, and there were also a large number of people.
Standing there expressionlessly showed the fatigue of working overtime on weekends.
Wait, does anyone in Paris work overtime on weekends?
The thought flashed by, but it was fleeting. This shouldn't be the focus. Pulan immediately picked up the phone and glanced at the message reminder on the screen:
Unknown number.
When you open a text message, it’s not text, but pictures.
There is a piece of white paper spread out flat in a wide palm. The creases can be clearly seen on it. You can press a corner with your thumb to unfold it. The information on the white paper is only
A very simple word.
"3".
It's French.
It is obvious that Arabic numerals can be written, but a "three" is written in French. It is obvious that it is a mystery and requires the other party to solve the puzzle.
Buzz buzz.
Along with the vibration, I saw another message.
"The third time, so you have taken the ninety-nine steps, and I should take the last step. Is the answer correct?"
Even though it was a strange number that she had never seen before, Pulan's heart still beat uncontrollably. She knew:
It's him.
It must be him.
Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop…
The beating of the heart lost its rhythm and trembled slightly, as if one could actually feel the goosebumps appearing on the surface of the skin. There was an indescribable happiness. Then, every pore on the body seemed to open the sparkling water.
It was like an instant, gurgling.
I couldn't help but read the text carefully again:
He knows her thoughts.
That night, Pulan kept suppressing his curiosity and impulse, and endured it again and again, but in the end he couldn't hold it back and searched for the name online.
Gawain.
All that came out was "Gawain the Maiden Knight", and then I added a word I heard inadvertently and boldly associated it together.
Gawain; Tennis.
The input method was still Gao Wen from Girl Knight, but this time, the official news from ATP popped up, and she realized that the spelling should be "Gao/Wen".
A whole new world is unfolding before your eyes.
She hesitated and hesitated, not knowing whether she should go to the scene to watch the game.
Because she knew that once she appeared at the scene, it meant that she had taken the most important step and personally created their third encounter.
Should she do this? Shouldn't she naturally wait for the third chance encounter to happen? Then prove that everything is fate?
After repeated hesitation, she missed the match between Gao Wen and Raonic. When she realized that Gao Wen had entered the final, she had already purchased the tickets for the final before she could rationally remind herself to be more reserved.
Now it seems that he knows everything:
He knew how much thought this step had taken her, he also knew what "the third encounter" meant, and he also knew what to do next.
Quietly, even without her realizing it, the corners of her mouth quietly raised, and her mood seemed to fly into the sky with wings.
From ninety-nine steps to one step, they meet again, so what will happen next?
Buzz buzz.
The third text message came again.
Pu Lan glanced down, couldn't help but chuckled softly.
"I know that everyone will eventually evolve into what they hate the most: tick-tock-tock."
There were no unnecessary words, but Pulan understood immediately.
When they met for the second time, Gawain said that he didn't want to be like a fourteen-year-old child, sending text messages all the time, and then holding the phone and waiting for a reply, unable to do anything, which would make him feel frustrated.
.
three minutes.
It had been three minutes since the text message was sent, but there was still no reply from Pu Lan, so Gawain sent such a text message with a kind of ridicule and complaint.
Pulan himself was also frightened. The thoughts in his mind were surging and he was completely unaware of the passage of time. But through the words, he seemed to be able to see Gawain's expression. After all, he couldn't hold it back and burst out laughing.
But soon, Pulan realized that his laughter was out of control.
He raised his head and looked at the subway car. A few people raised their heads and looked over, but most people were still focused on their own things and made no movement.
Pulan adjusted his smile slightly and looked down at the screen of his mobile phone.
After thinking about it carefully, I wrote a bunch of words over and over again, and then deleted them all; I wrote a bunch of words again, and then deleted them all. After thinking about it, I finally wrote a few words and looked at them carefully.
, and sent it directly as soon as I closed my eyes.
"correct answer!"
Before the phone screen could dim, another reply came, and it turned out to be another picture.
"Fireworks.jpg".
Involuntarily, a smile crept onto Pu Lan's eyebrows.