These two streets are the last streets that Jiang Chu people can walk through in their lives. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info he doesn't know. He was not in the mood to see any scenery, he was just distracted by the girl sitting next to him. Such a sharp and worry-free guy may not belong to him at all. Maybe he may not be able to live happily ever after with her. But who can say for sure? He's always going to have to fight last. Throw her directly onto a strange ship, sail to a strange place, imprison her, conquer her, or be conquered by her - and then plead guilty to the Chen family.

The words he wanted to say swirled in his heart, intertwined with anger, unwillingness and infatuation, and suddenly a sentence jumped out. The corners of his lips smiled slightly in the high collar of his cloak. It was the most beautiful word of his life, it could illuminate the deepest night, it was not like he had come up with it, but a mysterious fate cast a ray of light at him at the end of the darkness. He said—

The door opened, and the shots rang out.

Chen Dashuai was also stunned when he saw that it was Jiang Chu who was planted.

Si Ling opened her mouth and screamed, but she couldn't hear her own scream. She didn't make a sound at all, like Tao Kun laughed when he heard that she was engaged, opened his mouth, all the muscles in his face were tense, and his throat was paralyzed, and there was no sound.

She didn't know how the small box in her hand flew out, the gold and silver rolled to the ground, a cheongsam fell to the ground, and the smoke cloud was stained with blood.

into a swirl of blood.

Chen Dashuai came to his senses, quickly grabbed Si Ling, packed up the things on the ground, retreated, burned the bloody clothes, and handed Si Ling to Mrs. Chen, and stuffed it into the steamer bound for the West Coast of the United States in the early morning of the next day.

Later, many, many years later, some of the passengers who had taken that ship could still recall that there was a room on that steamer that was always locked, as if it were a dead man inside. Half a day later, there was a sudden howl from inside, one louder than one, and the crew explained that someone had a hysterical illness and would soon be fine. Sure enough, soon, the screaming suddenly stopped, as if it had been cut by a knife. Some passengers thought: This patient is probably not well, but dead.

The bodies of Jiang Chu were found early the next morning. Who did it? Everyone knows that Jiang Churen has a grudge against the families of some patients in the hospital, maybe it's them? The police filed a case, but the Communist Party quickly won the battles of Jinzhong and Liaoshen, crossed the river quickly, and fought a decisive battle in Pudong, the world was turned upside down, the people were panicked, and the corpses were everywhere, who would care about a homicide case?

The second elder of the Jiang family did not receive the news of his son's death until the Communist Party announced the liberation of the country, and knew that it was impossible to find the murderer. They became more devout than before, adopted Walter as their son, and lived out their old age in silence.

Chen Dashuai was martyred in the Battle of Pujiang, Si Ling and Mrs. Chen, two people, went to Taiwan again, bought a piece of land, and did a flower and tree business, Si Ling learned flower arrangement, and was slightly famous.

She never married.

Sun Jing married a businessman who was in the metal business, and sometimes came to see Si Ling and asked, "Who are you waiting for?" ”

No. I didn't deliberately wait for anyone, but there are some things that will never be ...... once they have passed. Never.

Si Ling can no longer live with anyone else, she is just a person on a green island, quietly arranging flowers and leaves. Even Mrs. Chen remarried, married a local honest man, and gave birth to a younger sister to Siling, who grew up, got married, and gave birth to a daughter. The daughter was able to run all over the place soon, looking at Si Ling's flower arrangement, and cooing: "Auntie is amazing!" ”

Thirty years.

The continent was closed to the world for thirty years.

Thirty years later, there were ships to come and go in the blue strait, and Mrs. Chen also asked someone to find Sixiao, but of course there was no result. When Si Ling went to listen to the news, he went back to the mainland once, followed a "tour group", landed from Zhejiang, went to Shanghai, and then returned to Taiwan. As far as I can see, the world has been turned upside down, I can't find even a single old acquaintance, the household registration books have all been changed, the clothes and temperaments of pedestrians are different, even the dialect tone has been changed, and everywhere is booming, striding meteors, if there are ghosts...... The ghost is gone, right?

No one even remembers the plague that raged in southern Zhejiang for thirteen years, and tens of thousands of people died in Quzhou alone. Minister of Health Zhou Yichun asked the military department for help, and a considerable number of the soldiers sent there also died, one of them, named Chen Sixiao, whose bones have not been returned.

They can't even remember the name of the martyr's cemetery, how can they remember a trainee soldier in the mudslide of the previous dynasty.

I remember him, with black eyelashes, a straight nose, a resolute chin, a very quiet smile, an old knee disease, and a plane on the battlefield of resistance against Japan at the age of nineteen.

The Chen Mansion has been reduced to nothing, and a factory has been built in that area. The direction of the old street is completely unrecognizable. Ren'ai Hall is still there, known as one of the few precious buildings in the city that are rarely well preserved, Si Ling went to see it, just looking out from the outside, it is indeed intact, if the mummy is more intact than the living.

She didn't walk in and booked a ticket back to Taiwan in advance. When I was waiting for the boat, I saw a mother hurrying over with a bicycle pushing her ten-year-old daughter, while teaching: "I want to play the piano!" You have to learn English! Let me tell you, you must learn English! And mathematics. Learn mathematics, physics and chemistry well, and go all over the world to ......"

The daughter yawned and rubbed the swollen eye bubbles of lack of sleep. They didn't notice the woman in old-fashioned clothes on the side of the road, they didn't know that she had grown up in this land, and she had grown up with her beautiful long hair, greeting the nuns in English and French, and talking and arguing with the foreign mechanics with her brother, and that the cars that had come to congratulate her at their respective engagement were all lined down the street.

――So what?

Those in the past are not dead yet, but those things have receded from this land like ghosts.

Si Ling looked at the mother and daughter. If Xu Ning hadn't died in those catastrophes and was still alive in a corner of this land, he should have lived like this with his children?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a middle-aged man standing under the eaves of the corner shop, with a white sweatshirt and baggy gray-blue pants, slightly hunched back, biting a cigarette in his mouth, and bargaining with the people in the store. The voice reached the ears a little, but it was a bit like Tao Kun.

She stood for a long time, not stepping forward. It's just demons. It's ridiculous to come forward like that. She turned and walked away.

The man turned around, but saw the back of a woman, wearing an old-fashioned cheongsam, the color of which reminded him of many years ago...... The indescribable years, buried in memory, eventually return to the sky, like smoke clouds in the twilight.

Thirty years later, Si Ling died of cardiopulmonary failure in Renai Hospital. It's strange, it's Renai Hospital again. These two words are so rare in the world that people especially like to hang them on plaques.

Si Ling lay quietly on the hospital bed, with some tubes inserted in his body, listening to the sound of the instruments and the brief answers of the doctors and nurses in the hurried steps. It was as if it was slowly sinking into a quagmire, so peaceful.

The story of the seventeen-year-old girl is long over. Now, as an old woman, she knows that this is the end of her life. There is nothing special about it. She owes nothing to herself or others in this life. With a slight savings, I wrote a suicide note early and donated it to the Sacred Heart Orphanage. Her mother is dead, and her sister has given birth to a little girl, and she has someone else to take care of her, so she doesn't need to be suspenseful. Even her organs had already filled out a wish form, allowing the hospital to replace them with anyone who needed them after her death. Which organ can still be used, and who deserves it? All have their own rules, as long as she can rest assured.

It's really strange that at this time, what floated in her heart was not the famous "dust to dust to dust", but a joke: I come and go without worry.

Maybe it's also a blessing.

However, her only regret was that at the last moment, in the confusion she had fallen into, there was not a single tree with lush foliage that gently bowed down to her and promised her: from morning to dusk, all the time.

(I'm looking at you.)

I look at you and can't decide the expression on my face.

I know I created you. I know they say that's how life is. I know that with your wealthy Zhu Hu and Ya Wat Yucong, in the passage of time, you are no more privileged than a speck of dust.

However...... The reason why dreams are dreams is that there is more freedom than reality.

Do you know that you are the last dream of my life's pride, flowing until it dries up? I thought there would be a future after the end, and I really tried. And yet, you know, that's not anymore. You are the blood that my cuckoo cries and splatters out of my heart. It's my final end.

However, do you know how many dreams have been uncontrollable when the spring of my life has just begun to flow. The fountains were too thin and weak to bear, and they were thrown on the side of the road. Later, when Quandao was healthy, there was a dream of Tenglong and left, and it became a world of its own. and I could not have taken care of the broken. Until now, the crow's head is cold in the twilight wind, and he suddenly leans on the cane to visit the old way.

In a place very close to the original.

The Mizukage before it was almost shattered, and the waves behind it boasted to be more sophisticated.

I saw it on the ground, still flapping its wings, and after all this time, it was still flying in the sky with a light touch.

Dreams are dreams because the person in the dream believes that they are real. Dream weavers really have to weave their lives into it, believe in their existence as if they were their own existence, in order to make it a dream. Otherwise, it's nothing more than a puppet.

I still had life to share with them.

Now I need to go back up the road and pick up the life I once had.

My hands are still in the habit of dancing, but I'm just a puppet.

And the end of the silk, the wings of the remnant dream, I carefully pulled it up, not daring to move it at all, trying to stick to the end of this dream.

Don't blame me for being abrupt - I really created you all, but - there are parents crouching on the edge of the cradle, staring at the basket with awe on their faces.

It is said that some painters are distressed: I don't know how to express the authority of the baby? -- That refers to the Holy Child.

There is no need for the Holy Child, there are parents who are in awe of their children. Your life comes from me, but it is beyond the scope of what I dare to cut.

I can only interweave it into a chapter, and may you all enjoy this more distant chapter of life, and that's it. (To be continued.) )