"I've cooked your favorite preserved egg and lean meat porridge and will bring it to you right away... By the way, I'll wash you up first so you'll feel better..."
A hot towel was brought up, and refreshing mouthwash... She wiped his face and hands, and asked him to rinse his mouth. Although her tone contained a small complaint, it was extremely intimate, "Don't drink so much in the future. Drinking is harmful to your health, and you are very drunk."
It’s uncomfortable…”
He accepted her gentle service in a daze and wiped her soft hand on his face. When she took away the towel, he suddenly grabbed the hand. When he regained consciousness, everything from last night suddenly came back: Big Brother
, Xiaobai, that terrible past... and the aching fist.
She laughed, her voice extremely gentle: "What's the matter, Xiaodong?"
"Mai..." He swallowed the words that came to his mouth and said after a while, "What time is it?"
"Oh, it's almost four o'clock in the afternoon..."
Is it four o'clock in the afternoon? He looked out the window at the bloody setting sun, which seemed extremely lonely and cold in the winter. He couldn't help but tighten his arms, firmly hold the hand opposite him, and casually said, "You didn't go to work?"
"I asked for a day off. Tomorrow is the weekend, so I can spend two days with you..." There was a trace of apology on her face, "Xiaodong, I have never been with you well these days... Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, whatever you want
Whatever you want to do, I will listen to your arrangements..."
He felt warm in his heart, but his heart ached sharply.
She gently held his hand: "Are you feeling better?"
He also held her hand tightly and glanced at the warm room: the windows were bright and clean, a table with vases, a pot of water bamboo full of life, and his washed and dried coats and shirts, hung neatly on the
On a hanger.
It was the feeling of home, the feeling of home that he had dreamed of for so many years.
She gently touched his hand and saw that the slight redness and swelling on it had not gone away. "Xiaodong, did you encounter something unhappy? At work?"
He didn't answer, couldn't answer, just closed his eyes gently.
Scenes from last night came to mind along with a strong headache: eldest brother, Qiao Maimai, Xiaobai, Qiao Dalin, Jiang and his party...the faces of his parents that he had long forgotten...
His father died so tragically, his mother died so tragically...but when they died, he was still very young, too young to feel grief.
Because his memory is weak, his hatred is far less than that of his elder brother... He even knows nothing about Qiao Dalin.
At this time, I realized that all the love and pity that my eldest brother had for me in the past - he took on that unforgettable hatred alone, and did not let his younger brother bear such terrible pressure since childhood - was because of the scene where his mother went crazy.
The eldest brother is frightened and doesn't want his younger brother to feel the same?
I have never felt any pain, so I have no regrets.
I don't even hate the heinous Qiao Dalin - Mai, how can I hate you? How can I?
When he was silent, she stopped asking questions and just said softly: "Xiaodong, you have to eat something first."
The footsteps slowly left, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Qiao Xiaomai's back, and a silent smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: Everyone said that killing one's father and killing one's mother is irreconcilable!!! Xiaomai, it stands to reason,
I should hate you too, but why don’t I hate you at all? Why?