However, Li Tongyun was always reluctant to leave, and she always stood behind her. Morning Wind felt a little embarrassed, and her sadness didn't want to show it in front of her peers.

"You don't have to worry about my business." Qiao Changfeng said this very hurtful sentence very coldly. But these words did not make Li Tongyun leave. Even Li Tongyuan, when he turned around and was about to leave, he suddenly grabbed his arm tightly.

At this time, he didn't want to resist. Li Tongyun had long felt that Qiao Changfeng was used to saying such things, even if he was sad before, he was already used to being less sad now. You agree, you know that he is feeling very uncomfortable right now and needs to be comforted, so you must not leave him at this time.

But he didn't understand Qiao Changfeng after all, Qiao Changfeng preferred to be alone when he was uncomfortable, and Li Tongyun would only increase her troubles here.

"Your business is my business, and I've gotten used to it since I was a child." Looking at Qiao Changfeng's painful look, Li Tongyun's heart was like a knife. "Don't you remember? I said I would always be by your side. Now that she's gone, it's reasonable. If she doesn't leave, there will be many problems in the future. ”

"You're not all the way after all." Li Tongyun said calmly, no matter what, she and Qiao Changfeng grew up together, and they still have feelings.

Qiao Changfeng's heart was even more painful when he heard this, but he didn't know what to say, so his tears flowed down so suddenly.

Li Tongyun's hand slowly stretched out and slid onto Qiao Changfeng's face, wiping away the two lines of tears, and the look of distress in his eyes was revealed.

"I see you happy, I rejoice, I see you sad, I am sadder than you. Changfeng, in the past ten years, do you really not know my heart? Li Tongyun approached and gently hugged Qiao Changfeng into his arms.

"She doesn't know you, I know you, she leaves you, and I will never leave you. We are the ones who go all the way! My love for you is what will never become. ”

Qiao Changfeng's heart was like a knife, and he couldn't listen to Li Tongyun's words at all. His whole body is wooden, and he relies on Li Tongyun's body like this.

Ignorance and unawareness.

laugh

An extremely grand funeral.

Wreaths were hung in front of the door of the deceased, and flowers of various colors shone faintly in the sun. Large and small cars are parked in the small dilapidated yard. The people who saw off the deceased lined up for a long time, a long line, neat, everyone's face showed a very sad look, and the chrysanthemum in his hand bloomed miserably. It was a somewhat sunny summer day, and these people, no doubt, had fine beads of sweat on their faces and the tips of their noses.

On the left side of the door is a funeral car, the driver and his brother are sitting in the car silently smoking, around five o'clock in the morning, the car carried the cold body to the funeral home, when he came back, only the box of ashes held by the youngest son was left, the person died, that is, died, only left, a handful of ashes, a handful of dead ashes. It is not too early to send the ashes, it is time to leave to make some space for this small place, but perhaps the owner is too busy, and the money for the funeral has not been sent for a long time.

On the right side of the door, there was a large singing team's car, all kinds of noisy music rang out unexpectedly, and the people inside were hurriedly painting all kinds of makeup. The main entrance is decorated with a white cloth, which is a bit eerie. A dark yellow coffin was placed in the center of the doorway, and the black-and-white photograph of the deceased - a slightly smiling middle-aged woman, looking kind and old, and not at all a person under fifty, was placed on the table in front of the coffin, burning incense and white steamed buns, which were transmitted and mixed by the air to emit a very strange fragrance. In the clay basin below, there are only a few stacks of dust.

The emaciated little son was kicked and cried at a loss, and a young man carried him to the clay pot, facing the statue, "Kneel!" Burn paper for your mother! If others don't kneel, don't you kneel either? Look at it, it's empty! The youngest son knelt straight down to the ground, the knees of the ground who did not lay anything hurt, he glanced at the uncle next to him, the black eyes in the middle of the red circles were staring at him at the moment, he hurriedly lowered his head, tremblingly picked up the paper and burned it.

The long, long line of people who saw off the party had already entered the table at this moment, chattering with each other, recalling the life of the deceased, the deceased was forty-eight this year, a very ordinary Chinese teacher in the village primary school, who had taught for decades.

The brothers and sisters of the deceased had already finished crying in front of the coffin statue, and the vain body after the long-distance travel and the blow of the wound was forced, and they were busy squeezing around in the crowd, the eldest sister, who was already in her fifties, wiped her tears while walking, and the second sister was busy supporting her, settling on a chair behind the side door, and she was busy before and after. The deceased's brother showed a manly spirit, and never cried again except after weeping with his sisters. Over the years, my sister's family has been poor and can't afford to send her youngest son to school, and every time she calls, my younger brother always has to call her for some money. Counting it, there are hundreds of thousands, which is not a small amount for him.

"My miserable niece-" A terrible cry came, and the guest hurriedly came over and called out to the master: "Aunt is here, hurry, send someone to meet you!" The second sister just handed the money to the driver, and was holding a cigarette to send the driver, hearing this, she hurriedly ran over, and the cigarette was hurriedly stuffed into the driver's hand. The younger brother patted his youngest son and motioned for him to go with him to greet the guests. The youngest son paused for a moment, hurriedly followed, walked in, only to see that the aunt did not shed tears, just yelled, and the people in the village who were not close to him stood scattered on the side of the road, staring at a pair of eyes, only to hear someone whispering: "When I was alive, I was poor, and I didn't step on the door a few times, so my son died, and I started these dramas." The person next to her poked her: "Be quiet, let people hear it carefully" The man turned his head and glanced at it nonchalantly, "When someone will accept her feelings"

The old aunt sat on the chair with the support of her two nieces and talked to her eldest niece wiping her nose and tears. The youngest son is like a bird with folded wings in a panic, completely losing the vitality and vitality of his usual life, only following behind his uncle and a few aunts, hanging his hands to welcome guests.

The aunts and uncles were all here, and at this time, they were finally idle. Look at the time, it's almost time to bury. Under the guidance of the branch, all relatives and friends knelt at the door, and everyone kowtowed, some lit incense, and some burned some paper. The sound of sobbing faintly came from the crowd, the eldest sister's shoulders were shaking, the second sister was hugging her shoulders, and finally both of them cried, the voices became louder and louder, and all relatives and friends, familiar and unfamiliar, also sobbed quietly. The neighbors who usually bullied her, and the colleagues who often ridiculed her behind her back, also quietly wiped the corners of their eyes at this time.

The youngest son knelt in front of him, the filial piety cloth on his head hung down to the back of his feet, he lowered his head and stared intently at the pile of paper money burning in the clay pot.

"Look at this child, I don't know how to cry when my mother dies." A woman said, the neighbors were still sitting next to her, their eyes open, as if watching a grand tragic drama, the protagonist of the story, the youngest son, was not acting online! This cannot but be regretted.

"Children, I didn't cry when I was a child, when my grandmother died, I was too young at that time, I know what to do. My dad slapped me a few times and cried when he felt wronged. The other woman said, and they both smiled, and the laughter quickly withdrew as soon as it reached her cheeks. In such a sad occasion, laughter is not welcome, and it is a taboo, but fortunately, people are trying their best to grieve and people who don't care at all notice this.

At this time, there was a burst of laughter from the room, like silver bells, like a waterfall, "Cluck, cluck... "Cluck, cluck, cluck... With its unique and extremely penetrating power, this laugh soon spread throughout the room. Like a ghost, floating around, floating around, pouring into everyone's ears, in the heart, too much, too much, that laughter is just like that, weird, swinging, floating, wandering, swinging, swimming, floating, floating, abhorrent. "Giggle-" "Giggle-cluck-" A man, the disabled husband of the deceased, jumped into the back room with a limp, and picked up his daughter, who had just woken up from sleep. The pink smiling face, a pair of large, clear black and bright eyes, seemed to look at the person kneeling in front of the door, and seemed to be looking elsewhere.

"Mommmmm—" the girl murmured, looking around, her face still full of smiles.

Everyone looked up at her, and they couldn't help but feel infinite pity in their hearts, but at this moment they were terrified. But the brothers and sisters of the deceased cried even harder, and her laughter, tugging and tugging in their hearts, showed her pathos more and more.

The sound of suona sounded, and here, the actors were all put on makeup, and a woman in a white costume was crying and singing, crying and singing a "Crying Spirit"

"Raise the coffin—" With the voice of the branch, several young adults in the village lifted the coffin, and the younger son followed closely behind the coffin with his head bowed with the portrait in both hands. A long line of people, following him closely.

Still the crowd of spectators, with their eyes open.

On the stage, "Crying Spirit" has already been sung, what kind of face and what kind of play will be the next one on stage.

I saw that the mourners gradually disappeared at the head of the village, and disappeared into the layers of grass and trees.

By this time, the sun had set high, and the neighbors had gone home, and it was time to make lunch.