Shen Mo indeed had a good night’s sleep.

　　When he woke up the next day, the man was still sleeping on the sofa. One of his feet was on the sofa, and the other was on the ground. The quilt only covered his waist, and his shirt was wrinkled. Shen Mo realized that he didn’t change into pajamas and just slept like this all night.

　　Shen Mo was afraid of waking him up, so he tiptoed into the kitchen. His right hand had not yet healed, so he was not very flexible, but it was enough for two bowls of noodles. When he brought the noodles to the table, the man had already gotten up and washed up, and was calling someone to send a change of clothes.

　　Shen Mo sat at the table and waited. After the man hung up the phone, he also sat down to eat noodles.

　　Shen Mo asked him while eating: “Is it delicious?”

　　He raised his eyelids and said expressionlessly, “Normal.”

　　But he finished the noodles in no time.

　　Shen Mo felt indescribably happy.

　　The man was indeed busy at work, so he went to the company after eating noodles and changing clothes. But every time Shen Mo had a follow-up visit, he would always show up on time. At first, he would only stay overnight that night, but later he found that Shen Mo had nightmares almost every night, so he gradually stayed more often.

　　The small sofa in the living room was soon upgraded to a sofa bed. The man sometimes sat there to handle official business. There were two assistants working for him. They all called him Mr. Ji. Shen Mo was a little confused about what this title was. He couldn’t tell the appearance of the two assistants, but it didn’t matter. Only his Zhou Yang was special.

　　He often sat quietly beside him and watched him work, and just looking at his handsome profile made him feel at ease.

　　Shen Mo protested many times about sleeping in separate rooms, but was always dismissed by the man with excuses like “You’re not well yet” and “I’m too busy with work”. Later, he got tired of Shen Mo’s pestering and simply said, “Can I not do it?”

　　Shen Mo had no choice but to give in.

　　With that person accompanying him every night, he no longer had nightmares, ate well and slept well every day, and even gained some weight. The injury on his right hand also gradually healed.

　　Shen Mo was thinking about going out to work. He had originally found a company that was in the painting industry, but was delayed because of the injury to his right hand.

　　Fortunately, he can also draw.

　　He can only draw.

　　Shen Mo’s painting supplies had not been used for a long time and were covered in dust in the cabinet. After the man went to work that day, he took them out and sorted them out, wondering what to paint.

　　He originally wanted to draw Zhou Yang, but for some reason, Zhou Yang’s face always seemed to be covered by a layer of fog in his mind, blurry and unclear.

　　Forget it, Shen Mo thought, I’ll ask Zhou Yang to be a model when he comes back.

　　Shen Mo thought about it for a long time and finally decided to paint the sofa bed in the living room. He hummed a song while preparing the tools. Everything was peaceful and beautiful until he held the brush.

　　His right hand, which had already healed from the injury, twitched in pain, and his hand loosened, and the paintbrush fell to the ground.

　　Shen Mo quickly bent down to pick it up, but he couldn’t hold the pen. His fingers hurt so much that they seemed to break apart. Shen Mo gritted his teeth, and some images suddenly flashed through his mind.

　　He was pressed to the ground, and a scarred man stepped on his hand and crushed it hard, laughing and saying something.

　　Then the scene changed to a hospital ward, and the strange man said similar things to him, saying that his right hand was seriously injured and might leave sequelae that would affect his daily life.

　　What exactly happened?

　　How did he injure his hand?

　　Shen Mo fell to the ground in a daze, curled up in a ball because of the pain in his right hand. He took a breath and tried to hold the pen again. As soon as he held it, his fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

　　It hurts so much.

　　He had no choice but to let go and then hold it again, repeating this several times, before finally giving up this meaningless action completely.

　　He still couldn’t remember anything, but he knew in his heart that he would never be able to paint again.

　　Shen Mo lay on the floor for a long time, until the sun set and the sound of a door opening was heard outside.

　　It’s Zhou Yang who’s back.

　　Shen Mo finally regained some strength and hurried to stand up and pack his things. He didn’t want Zhou Yang to know about this. But just when he was halfway through packing, the person he was familiar with pushed the door open and walked in.

　　The man glanced around and asked, “What are you doing?”

　　”Nothing, I’m just… cleaning the house.”

　　Shen Mo held the painting supplies in his arms and tried to stuff them all back into the cabinet, but in his haste, he bumped into the corner of the table instead, and everything in his arms fell to the ground.

　　A place full of wolves and beasts.

　　Especially the paintbrushes were rolling all over the floor.

　　Shen Mo was flustered, afraid that Zhou Yang would notice something, so he bent down and picked up the pens one by one with his left hand. He thought to himself that he would never touch them again after he had picked them all up. He kept his head down, and his movements became slower and slower. When he picked up the last pen, the man suddenly raised his foot and stepped on it.

　　Shen Mo was stunned, not knowing whether he should pick it up.

　　The man had already reached out his hand, gently pinched his chin, and forced him to raise his head.

　　When their eyes met, the man’s eyes were shocked.

　　Shen Mo felt strange and asked, “What’s wrong?”

　　The man didn’t say anything, just looked at him.

　　Shen Mo seemed to be aware of something, raised his hand and touched his face, and found it was wet and cold.

　　Shen Mo knew he had lost his composure, so he wiped his face with his hands and covered it up by saying, “I think I slept too much in the afternoon…”

　　The man looked at him deeply, his eyes so dark that no emotion could be seen. After a while, he leaned over to pick up the last pen and put it into Shen Mo’s hand.

　　Shen Mo’s fingers bent unnaturally. Although he managed to hold the pen, his face turned pale in pain. He begged for mercy, “Zhou Yang…”

　　As soon as the man loosened his grip, the paintbrush fell to the ground again.

　　He stared at Shen Mo and asked, “Will it hurt?”

　　Shen Mo took a breath, hid his right hand behind his back out of habit, and said, “It’s probably because the wound on my hand hasn’t healed yet. It will be fine once it heals.”

　　He thought for a moment and then said, “It doesn’t matter if I can’t get better. At most I won’t paint anymore. I can still find another job. I can do sales or insurance. Maybe I can earn more.”

　　The man never responded.

　　After Shen Mo finished talking to himself, he hurriedly hid in the kitchen. He washed his face with cold water, and when he calmed down, he took out the ingredients from the refrigerator and simply fried a few dishes.

　　Dinner was unusually dull.

　　The two of them had their own concerns and didn’t talk much. After dinner, the man turned on the computer and sent a few emails, then lay down on the sofa and fell asleep. Shen Mo slept in the bedroom, looking at the figure on the sofa through the open door, and saw that he kept tossing and turning, as if he didn’t sleep well all night.

　　Shen Mo also slept and woke up frequently, and was not very energetic the next day. But he had already made up his mind, so he locked all the things related to painting in the cabinet and went out to find a job.

　　His illness had not yet healed, and he could not recognize other people’s faces, so he could not do insurance sales work, but other jobs were easy to find. In just two days, he found a job as a stock clerk in a nearby supermarket. He did it part-time, and he did not have to sign any contract. He could start work after negotiating a salary with his boss.