The two of us looked at each other, and at that moment, I felt as if the world had stopped.

I don't know if the Creator deliberately played tricks on people, as the saying goes, when God closes a door for you, he must open a window.

I was fascinated by her eyes.

Looking at her eyes, it is as if you can see through her whole person, her whole heart.

Her eyes are so clear that they do not contain any impurities, they are more transparent than the spring water in the mountains, they are a pair of eyes that have not been polluted by any world, gathering all the beauty and purity, and because of this, her simple and kind inner world can be reflected.

After a long time, she realized that I didn't know how to speak, so she hurriedly stepped up to the podium, picked up chalk, and wrote on the blackboard.

She told me that she was in her third year of junior high school this year, and because it was a weekend, she couldn't go home and didn't want to waste time in the dormitory, so she stayed in the classroom to study.

Through her introduction, I learned that students like them, because of the language barrier, the ability to accept is limited, so although they are in the third grade of junior high school, but the knowledge they learn is only the level of the fifth grade of primary school, and they do not need to go to college like us, or even need to go to high school.

But when she said this, I could clearly see the reluctance in her eyes.

So I talked to her about interests, hobbies, and dreams.

I told her that I like Chinese painting, landscape painting, and figure painting.

She was immediately excited when she heard this, and she told me that her favorite thing was painting, but not Chinese painting, but sketching, especially human portraits, and her dream was to paint a portrait of everyone she had ever met.

Then she said that she had just participated in a painting contest organized by the city a few days ago, and she had drawn her own portrait and submitted it, and I told her that as long as she could draw her eyes well, she would be guaranteed to win the grand prize.

Then the two of us talked about each other's lives, studies, and so on, and so on.

The two of us wrote a full blackboard, erased it all, and then wrote again, I don't know how many blackboards were written.

In the middle, a student from the Sign Language Association came over, saw that the two of us were chatting very happily, and wanted to join in the chat, and also followed my example, holding chalk, writing on the blackboard what you must work hard, cheer, be positive, positive and optimistic, don't give up on yourself, I believe you will succeed.

But I could tell that she obviously didn't want to talk to the classmate, and only talked to me all the time.

Later, I asked her why she didn't want to talk to that classmate at that time, and she told me truthfully that people like them, in the bottom of their hearts, want others to treat them as normal people, rather than special treatment.

Obviously, the words of the classmate of the Sign Language Association were in the tone that a normal person with a high level would use to a lowly abnormal person.

But I'm different, I didn't say those fake empty chicken soup for the soul, what I said, there is no emotional color, I just treat them as ordinary people, as friends, and chat with her, talk about learning, talk about life, talk about interests, talk about dreams.

It's just that the two of us don't talk with our mouths, but with chalk instead, but as long as we talk happily, what does it matter?

That's why she talks to me so much, so much.

Before we knew it, the two of us chatted for more than two hours, until our classmates from the Sign Language Association shouted that we were going back, and the two of us reluctantly put down the chalk in our hands.

I said goodbye to her, but when I was leaving, she stopped me.

She said she was going to give me a painting.

I thought she was going to paint a portrait of me on the spot, but the students of the Sign Language Association kept urging me to paint a picture, and it would take half an hour at the earliest, and it would definitely be too late, so I told her to thank her for her kindness, but it was too late, and I was leaving.

But she said she must wait for her for five minutes, five minutes, and when she was done, she ran away.

I had to wait.

I don't know what she can draw in these five minutes.

Then, less than five minutes, she hurried over with a painting in her hand.

She handed me the painting, picked up the chalk again, and wrote on the blackboard, "It's really fun to talk to me today, she hasn't been so happy for a long time, so she wants to give me this painting as a souvenir."

I opened the painting, and it was her.

The beauty is picturesque, maybe this is the realm.

The painting of her is indeed beautiful.

Especially those eyes, which make people's hearts tremble when they see them.

It's just that the painting of her is more youthful and immature than at that time, and it is obvious that she was a few years ago.

In the lower right corner of that painting, I saw her name:

Shen Yuxuan.

It's really as good as its name, and even the name is so spotless.

And I also saw that on the painting she gave me, there was still a layer of tape on the edge that had not had time to be removed, and there was still a faint layer of dust on the surface of the painting.

I realized that she had taken down the painting on the wall of her dormitory and gave it to me, and looking at the dust and the painting of her childishness, the painting must have been painted by her a few years ago, and it was obvious that it was her beloved object.

With such a valuable gift, I thought how could I win people's love, so I wanted to refuse her, but when I saw her clear eyes, I accepted it again.

Before leaving, I told her repeatedly that I would come back to see her.

When he said this, Grandpa Chen Jinghong stopped, his deep eyes fell into infinite contemplation.

After a long time, Chen Jinghong's grandfather took out the painting from his arms tremblingly.

And I also saw the girl named Shen Yuxuan, no, it should be the grandmother named Shen Yuxuan.

The girl in the painting is not the kind of beautiful girl who catches the eye at first sight, she is not a national beauty, and she is much worse than Bai Annie.

But her eyes are eye-catching, really as Chen Jinghong's grandfather said, clear, transparent, without any impurities, just talking about eyes, and Bai Annie's eyes have a comparison.

But Bai Annie has water in her eyes, watery eyes, dripping, she is pure, so pure that people are reluctant to touch.

But to be honest, I still like big teary eyes.

This is not a lover's eyes, it's just Bai Annie's eyes, I'm used to it, preconceived.

But I noticed that Shen Yuxuan on the painting is not as immature and youthful as Chen Jinghong's grandfather said, but has matured a lot, perhaps because of that era, Shen Yuxuan on the painting has more vicissitudes of life, and even interesting and tired.

I asked Chen Jinghong's grandfather what was going on with this painting, and Chen Jinghong's grandfather sighed and said regretfully:

"That's the regret of my life."

Grandpa Chen Jinghong then told the story of him and Shen Yuxuan:

I took the drawing, went back to school, and immediately posted it on the bedside of my dorm room.

I promised Shen Yuxuan that I would often visit her at their school in the future, but the world was unpredictable, and the next day, there was a war in our country, and the Japanese wantonly invaded our country.

With a patriotic heart, my classmates and I went to join the army full of enthusiasm.

But before leaving, I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten that painting was in the dormitory.

When I quickly ran back to the dormitory to get the painting, it was no longer on the wall and had been cleaned up.

I immediately regretted why I was so careless.

That's how true she is to me.

I was sad, I regretted, I felt guilty, but at that time, the hatred of my family and country was in front of me, foreign enemies invaded, I couldn't care about the personal feelings of my children, I could only leave with regrets.

Since then, the two of us have completely lost contact.

But even after joining the army, going to the front, and going through nine deaths, I found that I could never forget her, especially her eyes, the painting she gave me.

And, of course, my promise to her, that I would come to see her often, but I never went back.

I don't know if she will wait for me, I can only fight more bravely on the battlefield, drive the Japanese out of our country as soon as possible, end this war, if I can go back alive, I will definitely go to her.

But I didn't expect that this war would last for a few years, and I would never go back.

Even more desperate, one day, I heard that the city where she was located had been occupied by the Japanese army.

The Japanese set fire to the city for three days and three nights, burning, killing, looting, and slaughtering the people in the city, and countless people became the souls of the Japanese.

Even though I was worried about her, I was helpless, and I could only vent my grief and hatred on the battlefield.

I thought I would never see her again in my life, but I couldn't forget her, and in the dead of night, listening to the sound of cannons in the distance, I often couldn't sleep at night, and I would think of her eyes, the painting she gave me, and the promise I made to her.

But all of this is far away from me.

But one day, a young female painter came to the army, saying that she wanted to paint a portrait of every soldier.

In that war-torn era, there were very few cameras, and in order to let the heroes who sacrificed their lives for the country leave their faces, and to let the world remember the warriors who sacrificed their lives for the country, there were often people in the army who painted portraits of the soldiers, and I didn't care about it at the time.

But when I saw the dusty little hands and tired petite body, but still holding the paintbrush, staring intently at the comrade-in-arms in front of me, meticulously drawing portraits on the drawing board, I immediately recognized her.

I recognized her eyes.

Although those eyes were full of bloodshot because of fatigue and malnutrition, those eyes were still pure and clear.

Those eyes don't deceive anyone.

I knew it was her.

I lunged at her.

She recognized me immediately, too, and tears welled up in her eyes.

The two of us, hugged each other tightly.

At that time, there was a shortage of pens and paper, so the two of us picked up a branch and wrote on the ground.

I wrote the painting I had lost the one she gave me, the promise I made to her, the thoughts I missed her, and the guilt I felt for her, and she also left her thoughts, her feelings, on the ground.

It turned out that she was at school, and she waited for me for a long time, for a long time, and she didn't see me to look for her again, so she guessed that I would definitely go to join the army, so it didn't take long for her to leave the school to look for me.

But she didn't know where I went, so she could only follow the army to the front.

On the battlefield, she experienced life and death, and witnessed the heroic sacrifice of her soldiers.

However, those heroes, except for an unrecognizable body, left nothing, and some did not even know their lives, and became nameless heroes.

After more experience, she has also matured.

She picked up the brush again and left their faces for the soldiers who had given their lives.

She was painting and looking for me.

In this way, I traveled to countless places, met several troops, and finally met me again.

Just like at the beginning, the two of us were on the ground, writing all over the rubbing, wiping and writing, there were endless words and endless love.

But we all know that the country is in trouble now, and we are not allowed to talk about our children's private affairs here.

At last I told her affectionately on the ground that one day we will win the battle and drive the Japanese away, and the war will be over, and you will wait for me in the place where we know, and I will definitely come back and marry you.

She looked at me for a long, long time.

In the end, with tears in her eyes, she agreed.

But the next day she left.

She's going somewhere else to paint portraits of other warriors.

Before leaving, she gave me another painting, which is now the current one.

She spent hours looking in the mirror overnight to paint.

She put the painting in my hand, wrote the words "I'll wait for you" in my palm, and left, and I never heard from her again.

Finally when the war ended, we were victorious.

I immediately wanted to go back to our place, and I knew that she would be waiting for me there.

I'm going to marry her.

She's waiting for me to marry her.

However, before I could set off on my journey, a civil war began.

Once again, I let her down.

It was as if I saw me standing at the door of the classroom, waiting for me to come back, my eyes no longer pure, but full of disappointment.

I didn't go back.

Once again, I broke my promise to her.

But I know she doesn't blame me.

She'll wait for me to come back.

She is no longer the little girl who puts the love of children first.

Finally, finally, we made our way south and liberated the city.

I was thrilled to go back to that place, the school for the deaf.

I told myself, Shen Yuxuan, I'm back, you have to wait for me, you must wait for me, wait for me to marry you.

But in front of my eyes, there was only a ruin, ruins, and a thick smell of gunpowder in the air.

On campus, there was still a deathly silence, but at the moment, there was nothing.

I panicked.

I was facing the campus, frantically shouting her name.

Shen Yuxuan, where are you?

Shen Yuxuan, you come out, aren't you going to wait for me to come back?

Shen Yuxuan, you come out! I'll come back and marry you.

However, all this was in vain.

Because she can't hear it.

I began to feel that I had lost her.

Well, I admit it, such a beautiful story was crippled by me.

(End of chapter)