Do You Remember Wenjing?

Dezi thought he didn't hear clearly, and asked again: "Do you still remember Wenji

ng?"

Zong He's face was pale, like a frozen pictorial motionless.

"What... what?"

Dezi was surprised why he had such a big reaction, and took out the toilet paper t o wipe the beer that he splashed on his trouser legs, "What's wrong? What's your rea ction?"

Wen Jing was a high school classmate they all had in common, and it was a long

time since they had seen each other.

Zong He tried his best to calm himself, thinking a lot in his mind in a moment, and even wondered if everyone around him was acting with him from a few days ago?

The name Wenjing was like a huge shadow to him, instantly pulling him into the cr

uel reality.

Zong He asked, "Why did you suddenly ask her?"

Dezi was a little embarrassed, "I received a call from Wen Jing yesterday... She as

ked me about your current situation."

Even in this world line, Zong He did not marry Wen Jing, but Wen Jing still loved Z ong He for many years.

"Stop pretending, we all know she likes you." Dezi reminded.

In the original world, Wen Jing saw Zong He and several beauties split up and closed with his own eyes, and persisted until Zong He agreed to date her and finally go t married.

Strange to say, those girls all showed a strong interest in Zong He at first, but they often broke up after a few months. One of the important reasons was that Zong H e's family background was too ordinary. He started work-study from college. Rarely spends the family's money, but the ability to make money is limited, which makes ea ch love appear financially stretched.

Today's Wen Jing still loves Zonghe bitterly, but he has never accepted her and int entionally cut off contact.

Dezi's tone was mixed with emotion: "We have known Wen Jing for so long, and w e all see her affection for you, so you really don't think about it at all?"

Everyone knew she liked him, from high school to now.

All of Zonghe's friends thought he was a very strange man, and would rather be si ngle for more than ten years and not accept a nice girl.

In their impression, Wen Jing has a carefree personality, looks rather cute, is relati

vely straightforward, and is a girl who is easy to get along with.

Zong He's tone was firm: "I don't think about it."

"You're not too young. It's not easy to have someone who likes you so much. Do y ou really want to be single for the rest of your life?"

Dezi, as a visitor, persuaded Zonghe that all women are similar after marriage. No

matter how beautiful they are, they will wear slippers and buckle their toes at home.

"Wen Jing and I are not suitable." Zong He did not want to discuss this issue.

Dezi slapped the table: "How do you know it's not suitable if you haven't tried it?"

He opened his big cow-like eyes and lowered his voice, "Brother, don't tell me you don't like women... If you have something to hide, I'll introduce you to a doctor."

Zong He was helpless, "The girl I like is the kind that is gentle as water, virtuous a nd lovely, she has a good temper, she doesn't pay attention to hygiene, and she does

"How do you know that people don't pay attention to hygiene? They beat people?"

Zong He was dumbfounded, "...you can tell by looking at it."

"Brother, let's stop making excuses, we all think you two are suitable."

Zong He stretched out his hand to stop him from continuing, "If it's to say this, le t's stop here today."

Back home, Zong He washed his face with cold water.

He looked at himself in the mirror, with delicate hair and fair face, his life had alre ady started anew.

Thinking of the scars on his arms before, thinking of the pots and pans that were broken every day, he didn't want to go back to the past, and he would never go back to the old way.

Taking a can of beer from the refrigerator, Zong He sat on the sofa and sipped it.

Originally thought that Wen Jing had completely left his life, but when he heard th e name suddenly, he seemed to see the gloom of the past beckoning to him.

Although he didn't know what she was doing now, Zong He only hoped that she c ould find the right person and never be with him.

"Boom, boom, boom"

The knock on the door was dull, Zong He turned his head slightly, is it his own doo

r? Looking down at the time, it was just 9:10.

Who will be there at this time? Maybe someone made a mistake.

"Boom, boom"

The voice was a little louder, still muffled. Zong He was about to get up when the sound of a key sound came from the door, especially in the quiet air.

He held his breath tightly in his heart, someone was using the key to open his doo

r, and he was a little nervous for a moment.

Besides himself, who else has the keys to his house?

The door was slowly opened, Zong He turned his head to look, and saw a familiar

figure walk in, Wen Jing.

She was wearing the same light pink home clothes as usual, her hair was tied into balls, and carrying a large bag that she used to use, she walked in, threw the heavy b ag to the ground as soon as she entered the door, panted and looked at Zonghe, "I'm not here yet. help?"

Zong He saw that she froze instantly, the whole person could not move, and almo st merged with the air.

Wen Jing's voice was harsh, "Are you glued to the sofa? Come and help."

Zong He's mind went blank, he wanted to reach out and punch his face hard, but h

e still couldn't move.

Wen Jing frowned, "Zong He!"

She took out a huge yam from her bag on the ground and threw it at his head....

!

Zong He suddenly woke up.

With sweat all over his forehead, he quickly looked around, there was no one else in the room but himself.

At this moment, he was half-curled on the sofa, the TV in front of him was still pla ying a suspense drama, and the background music was a little weird. Zong He wipe d the sweat from his forehead with trembling hands.

It's a dream, it's okay!

He let out a long breath, not knowing when he fell asleep.

Looking down at the watch time, it is nearly 10:00, and the lottery has been draw

n!

Zong He hurriedly pulled out the lottery ticket from his jacket pocket, and excitedl y searched the lottery numbers on his mobile phone.

"Forget the past and look to the future."

The winning result came out at 9:30, five red balls and two blue balls, seven numb

ers came into view.

First digit: "3"

Looking down at the lottery ticket in hand, no.

Second digit: "5"

no.

Third number: "10"

"33" "34" 7" "10"

Zong He stared at the lottery ticket in his hand, but he didn't win a single number.

He repeatedly confirmed that he was not wrong, and looked at the date, it was ind eed today's big lottery.

His eyes fell on the other two-color ball - could it be that you have to sleep and wa it for this one tomorrow?

Although he already had a psychological presupposition, Zong He still felt faintly uncomfortable, but his reason told him that he would not know the final result until t omorrow night, and what he needed to do now was to fall asleep immediately. --But I had already slept just now. Does the content written that day have to be f ulfilled the next day?

According to Zong He's analysis, he may have already drawn the lottery before fall ing asleep, so it does not count.

Zong He quickly climbed into the bed, got under the covers, pressed the remainin g lottery ticket under the pillow, and prayed for good luck tomorrow.

The next day, he didn't have to go to work on Saturday. Zong He was so dizzy that

he didn't even go out the door all day. He waited until 9:30 p.m.

The thing that frightened him the most still happened, and the two-color ball carry ing the dream of being rich also missed a single number.

Zong He stared straight at the numbers on the screen and repeatedly compared t

he lottery content. He didn't want to face such a result.

Why not, which part is the problem?

Zong He quickly took out the tablet, but at this urgent moment, he found that the t ablet was out of power, and he was in a hurry to find the charger again.

Every second made him feel extremely slow, and finally after 2 minutes, the tablet turned on smoothly.

Perhaps the description was not clear enough yesterday, as long as you add som

e content and clarify the number of winning, you will definitely win.

Zong He told himself: I don't need to write this time, just write about winning 5 mil

lion.

The strange thing is that today's writing software is also very slow to open. In the quiet living room, Zong He can almost hear his heartbeat.

The moment the software was opened, the original refreshing writing interface su ddenly darkened, as if covered with a layer of gray, and a row of striking characters popped up in the center of the screen:

Suspected violation, the content has been locked.

Zong He only felt a roar in his head, a thunderbolt!

How... why was it locked?

I just didn't check it for a day, what part went wrong.