Mrs. Jiang glanced at Shu Ya one more time, and then at Shu Yao. She only felt that the skin on Shu Yao's face was as white as fine porcelain, and she had a pair of big black and white eyes with long eyelashes casting shadows under her eyes.
Even without looking at you, you can still see her beauty. Her small nose, sandalwood mouth, and palm-sized face are all full of delicacy and beauty. On days like this, you definitely don’t apply makeup, so you can see that
Beauty is natural and unadorned.
She didn't know why she didn't like such a beauty. She felt disgust in her heart, but it didn't show it on her face. She only responded to Mrs. Yu's words and said:
"That's how it should be. Later, I will ask someone to select a cook from the big kitchen and cook it according to the taste of Brother Yan and his wife." Then he turned back and ordered the people following him:
"From now on, I will allocate five taels of my monthly money to provide food for Brother Yan and his wife."
The people behind him responded. Shu Ya hurriedly turned to Mrs. Yu, and Mrs. Jiang said it didn’t have to be like this. Mrs. Yu looked calm, held her hand and walked forward, saying:
"What's the matter? You just have to bear with it. Now you are not alone."
Shu Ya stopped talking, and her heart ached again. She was no longer alone. It was a pity that Shen Yan didn't even have time to look at the child. The child would never see his father...
Shu Yao took a wrong step back and followed Mrs. Jiang into the mourning hall.
The mourning hall was filled with white curtains, and a huge white flower hung in the middle. The originally empty shed was filled immediately after they arrived. From behind, many more people came one after another, including several of Shen Yan's uncles and aunts.
, there were relatives in the clan, and close friends during his lifetime. The younger brothers and sisters at home also came, and one by one stood beside the adults of their own family.
Standing next to Mrs. Jiang was a handsome young man. He was dressed in white, and his black hair was tied up with a white jade hairpin. Although he was not wearing a mourning, he was doing his best. When he stood there, he was like a star.
Generally, the surrounding area darkens, and only he becomes the dazzling presence.
The arrival of Duke Mao Guo and his uncle Jiu, who was the general of the country, was the most solemn. Before Duke Mao Guo entered the mourning hall, there was a loud wail, crying: "My son, my poor son."
ah……"
When he cried like this, everyone began to cry. The whole mourning hall was filled with cries. The elders were standing and the peers were kneeling. Because Shen Yan had not yet had a son, someone had already arranged for the children of the family to wear sackcloth for him.
Dai Xiao, Bai was kneeling miserably on the ground under the Xiao shed.
The crying couldn't stop for a while. Someone watched the time and arranged for people to carry out the coffin when the time came. Seeing that the coffin was about to be closed, Shu Ya, who had been crying silently, suddenly struggled to stand up, holding on to the edge of the coffin without letting go or speaking.
I just cried until I couldn't catch my breath.
When everyone saw it, they cried even louder. Mrs. Jiang frowned and whispered to the people around her:
"Go and pull her away! What does it look like?"
But before the person she ordered came forward, Shu Yao had already stood up and walked over. She whispered in Shu Ya's ear:
"Let my brother-in-law leave with peace of mind..."
After persuading for a while, Shu Ya slowly loosened her hand and leaned weakly on Shu Yao's arms, gasping for breath getting weaker and weaker.
Covering the coffin, placing the coffin, setting up the brazier and incense table, and placing the sacrifices were all carried out in an orderly manner. When all was done, people came to pay their respects and express their condolences.
Shu Ya seemed to have lost her soul, and she knelt dumbly in the shed. Shu Yao accompanied her, gently stroking her back. He knelt for a while, looking at her weak look, he was worried that she might make a mistake, or
The orderer helped her back to the house and lay down. Thinking that she was too sad, and because she had not eaten well these days, Shuya fell asleep after returning.
Today is so sad. The files were damaged and the manuscripts were lost. About 35,000 words of manuscripts cannot be found. I cried a lot. I am so sad that I can’t express it. Is this a reminder from God? Writing is a dead end.
?
I am so unwilling to accept it. There is very little time every day. It is squeezed and squeezed. The manuscripts that I finally saved are just gone...
I feel so gloomy as I write it again. I don’t know if I can write it well. I blame myself for not backing up the files! I shed tears just thinking about it.
The article that no one read is now good, nothing is left.
I'm not in the mood to do anything today. There may be some important work I haven't done yet, and I don't want to think about it anymore. I feel so uncomfortable...
The life of online writing is so lonely. I like writing, but I am regarded as not doing my job properly and just wasting time. No one reads what I write, so it doesn’t matter, I just want to make myself happy. But today I lost the manuscript, I am so sad!
What should I do? Will I cheer up and write again tomorrow?
So far in this chapter, my male protagonist hasn’t had much of an appearance. If I re-write the subsequent large-scale appearance, will it still be as good as it is?