On the first day Shen Zhiyu moved to the old city, the landlady pointed to the door next door and said, "That's also a young man playing games. It's a bit noisy at night."
Shen Zhiyu said it was okay.
He moved here just to be clean. I go to class alone, eat frozen dumplings alone, and live my life alone without having to explain to anyone. Fine.
It's really noisy next door. The keyboard crackles until the early hours of the morning.
But not annoying.
He lived in this alley for more than a week before meeting that man for the first time. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and his hair was a little long, standing at the end of the corridor looking at his phone. The two people said three sentences, one of which was "the lights went out" - nonsense, and he regretted it after saying it.
Later he found out that the "game player" was named Li Xiaoyan.
Later, when he opened the door to his room, he smelled the smell of tomato and egg noodles wafting from the corridor. The door next door opened, and Li Xiaoyan stood at the door holding a pot, his tone casual as if he was talking to someone he had known for a long time.
"This is too much, I can't finish it."
Shen Zhiyu wanted to say no. But the pot had already been put into his hand, and the walls of the pot were so hot that he winced his fingers. The steam blurred the face, and all he heard was "Hold it."
He carried the pot noodles back to the house, and when he sat down to eat, he suddenly realized a problem - the portion of the pot noodles was so heavy that even Li Xiaoyan might not be able to eat it enough.
"Too much" is false.
But the noodles are real, the soup is real, and every bite is hot.
The keyboard next door rang again. Short and dense, like rain on a windowpane.
Shen Zhiyu drank the last mouthful of soup and took the pot to the kitchen to wash it. He didn't feel noisy.
Not all the time.
Purpose: Break the identity gap, accompany each other in both directions, and grow with each other
