No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't sleep. The fourth senior brother's words kept drifting in his head. Finally she sat up and threw cold water in her face. Wrap up the trench coat you bought last year and walk outside the school.

It took almost a lot of effort to climb the second staircase. For the first time, I felt that this staircase was so cramped and difficult to walk. The walls are mottled and plastered with small advertisements. Like patches, layer upon layer. The small windows between the floors are dense and unventilated with years of dust, and the stairwell is even more dimly lit.

She stood in front of the door and knocked.

There was no sound at all inside the door.

After standing for a while, he finally took out the key and inserted it into the lock hole.

There was a familiar smell in the room. She quietly changed her shoes. Yellow slippers are worn on the feet, and a faint pair of shoe prints can be seen in the original position. In a few days, the dust was painted. He put a bunch of keys on top of the shoe cabinet and raised his hand to see a dirty gray mark on his belly. She stared at it for a few seconds.

Turn around and walk inside the house.

It was cloudy, and it was afternoon, which was her least favorite weather. The senior brother lay flat on the bed, his eyes closed, and he didn't say anything at all. She slowly moved to the edge of the bed.

Brother.

His face was gray, his cheeks were sunken, his hair was greasy and unkempt, and his cheeks were covered with blue beard marks.

Her tears finally fell unscrupulously and flutteringly.

She could finally cry uncontrollably.

It turned out that he was also in pain. Yes, selfishness or greed, she needs him to be painful, to find a reason for everything she once was, to find an outlet for her former self.

She tentatively stretched out her finger and touched Zhang Heng's finger. Then there is the forehead. It's piping hot, no surprises. His lips were chapped and cracked. Is he torturing himself? She only felt heartache.

The senior brother is still sleeping in a daze.

I don't know if the water in the thermos was a few days ago, and it was already cold. There were a few apples on the table, all of which were spotted with rot. Packing up her spirits, she began to settle unhurriedly.

She turned on the faucet, fetched water from the kettle, lit the fire, and burned it on the stove.

After thinking about it, I went to wring another towel. She squatted in front of her brother, wrapped the towel in her hands, forehead, cheeks, closed eyes, and high nose. Senior brother is really good-looking. After wiping his face, change the towel and wipe his hands again. Senior brother has very big hands, and he can usually wrap her little hands in the palm of his hand.

She held one of her brother's big hands with both hands and put it on her face. Tears couldn't help but fall again.

The senior brother's cheeks were burning red, and his palms were hot. Let her toss like this, and there is no sign of waking up.

She wiped away her tears and put her brother's hand back.

In the kitchen, the water in the kettle is boiling and the lid of the kettle beeps. She poured hot hot water over a towel, scalded it and then neutralized it with cool water. She followed her mother's example, wrung out the water from the towel, folded it in half, folded it in half again, and gently put it on the door of her brother's head.

The senior brother frowned slightly, his palms were folded and his fists were slightly clenched, and he slept unsteadily.

She exited the room, went to the bathroom, grabbed the blue rag, and began to tidy up the room. The small dark green sofa, the wooden dining table that is just enough for two people to eat, the shoe cabinet at the door, the kitchen, the balcony, and the writing desk she usually uses. Every corner of her was meticulously wiped clean. Take a moment, wipe away the floating dust of the floating world, and also carefully wipe your heart. Her trench coat, as usual, hung on the coat hook at the door, next to her brother's coat. By the time she wiped the floor for the second time, she felt like she was starting to sweat slightly. My body has been tense these days, and my heart is full of grievances, and I finally feel a little relieved at this time.

If two people hold each other tightly, it will make each other more painful, and there must always be one party who learns to let go.

In the middle, I changed the towel for my brother a few times, and the water temperature gradually decreased, and finally it was cool warm water.

The senior brother's sleeping face became more and more stable. She cooked white porridge in a small pot and went to the supermarket to buy salted eggs and small pickles. It was getting dark, and she sat on the other side of the bed, waiting for her brother to wake up. Sleepiness hit, and I fell asleep without knowing it.

As soon as Zhang Heng woke up, he thought of the little girl, and then felt a pain like a pinprick in his heart.

He struggled to move. I don't know how long I've been lying down, how many days. A wet thing fell onto the pillow. He tried to lift his hand to remove it, but found that it was suppressed. It was already dark inside the house.

A soft hand in his own hand.

He held his breath. I'm afraid that if I touch a button, it will all become a phantom and disappear.

He heard the little sister's breathing, and he was next to his pillow.

He closed his eyes, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes to the pillow.

Although he barely moved, the little sister still woke up.

She silently withdrew her hand from his palm. I got up and turned on the light. His eyes were uncomfortable for a moment, and he reached out to cover them. It also covered his tears.

He heard her walk out. The kitchen lights came on, and he heard her fire. Then she walked back again. She pulled his hand away, and in his hand was a glass of water. He wanted to get up, but found that his body was too weak to exert his strength. The fever, coupled with the fact that he had not eaten or drunk for several days, could not bear it.

She sat down beside him, struggling to lift him up, one hand behind him, and the other hand brought the cup to his mouth.

He was relieved to be at her mercy.

Drank water and ate white porridge and pickles. He lay down again and listened to the sound of her washing dishes in the kitchen.

She came back and reached out to try his head.

The fever has subsided.

This was the first line of dialogue between them.

He looked at her deeply, clenching his teeth.

Her thin cheeks, her sunken eyes, and the familiar yellow sweater that she hadn't seen for a few days.

He took her hand as she turned.

I'm sorry.

He pulled her back with all his strength, sat up from the bed himself, and hugged her tightly from behind.

He just said sorry repeatedly. His tears rolled down her sweater, drop by drop, and the color was faint and deep.

Instead, it was the little sister who spoke first.

I accompanied the fish to the hospital that day, and I saw you.

Zhang Heng was stunned.

The little junior sister still turned her back.

It turned out that she didn't know it completely, she had endured it for so long.

Because of her, you have suffered a lot.

You were different that day. I didn't understand it then, but I understand it now.

Zhang Heng scolded himself thousands of times in his heart. Self-defeating, self-defeating. But he knew it was too late to say anything.

I know I shouldn't hide it from you. I don't want to let myself mess up with you.

Brother, although I like sunny days, this world will not be sunny every day, it will be cloudy and rainy.

He treated Liu Yang's illness repeatedly, and he carried her to the hospital on his back, and picked and told her about it. As for himself, not a word was mentioned.

The little sister was quiet for a long time.

Depression is terrible.

He leaned against the head of the bed, staring blankly at the halo around the lampshade.

He thought of the boss's request to lower his body at the end, half a year, a year. Who can guarantee whether it will be half a year or a year? However, let him be ruthless, he asked himself, can he do it?

None of this can be said.

I don't know when the little sister went out, but when she came back, she had a basin full of water with both hands. She set up a chair at the head of the bed and placed the basin on the chair. She lay on the bed half-dragging and half-holding herself, dragging his head with both hands and placing it in the basin.

She gently rinsed her hair, moistened it, and applied shampoo. Her two small hands gently rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes and held back, tears still rolling down from the corners of his eyes.

When I was a child in the countryside, my mother used to wash my hair like this.

Well.

His voice was thick nasal.

The little sister changed the water three times. There was a bit of fog in the house. Finally, she took the small mirror and handed him the electric shaver. He shaved in the mirror, and she looked at him quietly in the mirror across from him.

At last he sat down cleanly at the head of the bed, and she took the mop boy and carefully moved backwards and mopped the floor. dragged to the door, stretched out his hand, and turned off the lights with a snap.

He suddenly felt a little panicked.

Senior brother, I'm leaving.

But he heard something else. The heart is pounding and uncomfortable.

The toilets, kitchens, and living rooms are turned off in turn, and finally the door lock clicks. There was silence for two.