After the summer, Gu Qiusha arranged for Wang'er to transfer to a private primary school, which is an aristocratic school invested by Erya Education Group, which claims to specialize in training family business successors. But the child firmly disagreed, and wanted to study in a public school, although he did not have many friends at Changshou Road No. 1 Primary School. After several arguments, Gu Qiusha was worried that he would escape back to his biological mother, so she could only agree to his request, but sent a driver to pick him up and drop off from school every day. Wang'er received special treatment at school, and many people wanted to come and see this prodigy, but the security guards turned them away, and even the classmates were not allowed to talk to him at will.

Wang'er likes to draw very much, and Gu Qiusha has set up a studio at home, full of plaster figures and paints, and can paint a few good sketches and watercolors every week.

In the middle of the autumn night, Gu Qiusha walked through the studio after taking a shower, found that the light was still on in the crack of the door, and found that Wang'er was not sleeping, but standing in front of the easel, holding a pencil and smearing vigorously, her body trembling violently like a pencillation.

A ten-year-old boy sketching a dimly discernible space, more like a nineteenth-century copper engraving, dripping with filthy water and a background of mottled walls covered with cobwebs. A man was lying face down on the ground with a dagger stuck in his back, and several rats crawled over his neck. Judging by the contours of his hair and face, he should only be in his twenties.

What makes Gu Qiusha even more mad is that she recognizes the shirt worn by the man in this painting, and the striped logo on the sleeve tube, which she hand-picked in the mall ten years ago and gave to her fiancé as a birthday present.

He died in this shirt.

She rushed into the studio, grabbed the child and pulled it aside, staring into his eyes: "Wang'er, are you sick?" ”

The boy's face was pale, his forehead was sweating the size of beans, and he shook his head tremblingly: "I had a dream. ”

Gu Qiusha looked at the black-and-white sketch: "You painted the scene in the nightmare? ”

"Yes."

It's also her nightmare, which has surfaced every early morning for a decade — the scene when Shen's body is found by the police.

As for the police officer who found the body, the man named Huang Hai has frequently appeared near the company in the past year. There has been no progress in the case of the killing of the New Year, and many people in the company have been questioned by the police. Gu Qiusha always had a feeling that Officer Huanghai's attention was ten years ago.

Just like the temperature in the mercury needle, the air is getting colder and colder, but Lu Zhongyue's attitude suddenly improves. For his adopted son who does not have his surname, Lu Zhongyue has more smiles, often takes the initiative to talk to Wang'er, and even sits together to watch the NBA or Serie A.

Although family harmony was a good thing, it made her faintly uneasy.

The nightmare sketch she found in the studio quietly burned the next day. When she saw Wang'er's gaze again, she remembered the man who had long since died—his eyes were always drooping, he looked a little weak, his face was quite delicate, and his skin was pale. He had large, dark eyes, and when he was quiet, he would fall into contemplation, and sometimes he would flash with the most vicious hatred. His hair was not completely black, mixed with some strange dark browns, almost covering most of his forehead.

Gu Qiusha no longer dared to look directly into Wang'er's eyes.

There were several times when I slept with him at night, but when I woke up, I found Shen Ming's face lying next to the pillow, Gu Qiusha jumped up and screamed in fright. Wang'er opened her eyes and asked her sleepily what was wrong, but she didn't know how to answer, so she could only say that she had a nightmare.

In the depths of the cold winter night, there was a strange light in his eyes, and he didn't look like a child at all. He slowly approached Gu Qiusha, wrapped his hands around the back of her neck, like a long-lost lover, gently kissed the cheek and the root of her ear, and blew kitten-like heat into her eardrums. This pond, which had long since dried up, was awakened and watered by this boy, back to the age of twenty-five.

Only then did Gu Qiusha realize that she still loved him.

One early morning, she heard the sound of crying, and saw Wang'er hugging the pillow and crying, she had never seen him so sad, and almost wet the sheets. She couldn't help but wake him up, but put her ear to his mouth, and heard a sad dream - "I...... No...... Think...... Die...... I...... No...... Think...... Die...... I...... No...... Think...... Die...... Small...... Branch ......"

Who is Twig?