It was just an expired morning meeting routine information, nothing special. But there seemed to be writing on the back of the paper. When Bo Chen turned it over, there was a poem written by Li Qingzhao:
The fragrance of red lotus root lingers in the jade mat in autumn.
He took off his clothes lightly and boarded the orchid boat alone.
Who in the clouds sent brocade books?
When the wild goose returns, the moon is full on the west tower.
The flowers float and the water flows.
One kind of lovesickness, two places of idle sorrow.
There is no way to eliminate this feeling, so I only lower my brows, but it is in my heart.
Then there are many lines of Bo Chen's name under the words, one word next to the other, and each word is written harder than the last. The last few words actually scratched the paper because of the strong force. Bo Chen was like this
He was stunned in place, his heart seemed to be hit hard by something, and then from that tiny needle-like gap, a bigger and bigger gap began to spread, and some hot things flowed in from the gap, slowly seeping in.
In the blood.
The sound of thin heels hitting the ground rang in her ears. Bo Chen looked up. Geng Mo was standing at the door holding a water glass. She looked at him, her eyes were dark and blurred, and there was a touch of sadness between her eyebrows. Then she saw him.
The piece of information with his name written all over it in his hand made his face, which had barely maintained a composure, instantly turn pale. Holding on to the door frame, his dark eyes quickly filled with mist, and his thin teeth bit his lips heavily, very hard.
Bloodshot eyes were almost oozing out.
"Geng Mo." Bo Chen called her name hesitantly, unable to move an inch.
Geng Mo turned around and wanted to run away as if he was stung by something sharp, but the water glass in his hand fell to pieces in a panic. The delicate white porcelain made a crisp shattering sound when it came into contact with the ground. Subconsciously
Geng Mo bent down, trying to clean up the broken pieces on the ground, but a cut was made on his finger by a piece of broken fine porcelain. Instinctively, Geng Mo shrank his hand, but red liquid still flowed out from the wound.
Bo Chen couldn't control it anymore. He stepped forward and pulled Geng Mo into his arms with a gentle force. He quickly pressed his lips on the wound to suck the red color that gushed out. Then, with the taste of blood, his
His lips pressed against hers.
He kissed her, very lightly and delicately, with depression and cherishment.
Pang Yalash's name had no effect, and the promise of marriage was blown away by the wind. Bo Chen never knew that he had such strong feelings, and Bo Chen never knew that love cannot be bound by reason.
"Geng Mo..." He shouted softly. It turned out that calling her name with the voice of love was so beautiful.
"Mr. Bai..." She responded weakly, as if she was talking in a dream, as if the gently crushed liquidambar under her feet in late autumn was moaning.
Then Bo Chen deepened the kiss, as if telling her and himself that this was not a dream.
Her mouth has the salty taste of love, as well as all kinds of tenderness and sweetness.
For a long time, they hugged each other, Geng Mo's head pressed tightly against the beating rhythm of his chest.
"We shouldn't..." Geng Mo sighed. Tears burned through his shirt and pressed on his heart.
Bo Chen was speechless. He knew what he was doing, and he also knew that it shouldn't be done. But the trembling body tightly locked in his arms refused to let go no matter what.
"You and Miss Pang are getting married..." she reminded him. Her voice was very soft, but it was like a thorn in the back.
His arms around her began to stiffen. Love can be impulsive, but morality cannot be impulsive forever.
She pushed away his arms, slowly squatted down, and lowered her head. He couldn't see her expression, but he saw the water droplets falling on the broken white porcelain.
Knocked on Bo Chen's heart.
There was a heavy soreness in his throat, and Bo Chen couldn't say a word. He stared closely at the faintly twitching shoulders at his feet. He could only let the soreness spread from his throat to every part of his body along the blood.
One inch.
After that day, it was obvious to Bo Chen that Geng Mo began to avoid him. Even if she stood in front of him and had to report some situations, she was stiff and mechanical. Her eyes would never meet his, and her face would be lowered as low as she could.
How low.
And because he was facing difficult marriage problems, he couldn't make any commitment to her, so he didn't know what attitude to use to continue facing her.
He was in an awkward stalemate with her.
Soon Geng Mo had been at "Bo's" for two months. After the morning meeting, Bo Chen signed and handed over documents to Geng Mo in the office as usual. Geng Mo was explaining the general outline of the documents very conscientiously.
content.
Finally signed.
Bo Chen took a deep breath. He looked at Geng Mo with his head hanging down, and his heart began to hurt again. He could see her, but she was so far away. This feeling was about to drive him crazy.
"Geng Mo..." He called her name and wanted to say something, but was shocked by the resignation letter Geng Mo handed out from under the folder, and couldn't say another word.