Lao Mo's gaze gradually deepened.

In the sloppy eyes, all that emerged was the scene of the year.

Mo Yunqing......

For more than 20 years, no one had ever mentioned it in his ears again.

His face was constantly changing because of all kinds of complex emotions.

But it is undeniable that the gray under his eyes is full of sadness and anger.

"I watched this child grow up and watched him step by step to where he is today."

"When he was swept away, he was lying in my arms like that. I will never forget Yunqing's gaze at that time for the rest of my life! ”

"It's hate!"

When Mrs. Fu said these words, she was so excited that she didn't sit still, and tripped the teacup on the table and fell to the ground.

The crisp sound made Lao Mo's scattered gaze gather together in an instant, condensing into two crystalline lights.

"I know Nansen won't be such a spineless child, he'll go back, it must have a purpose-"

"I haven't asked you to answer his phone calls these days, and I hope you think it through."

"Even if Fu Chengyi has a life-saving grace for you, you have worked for the Fu family for so many years, and you should repay it."

"I'm old, I don't know if I can see the scenery of Nansen one day, but I hope you can remember that the kindness you want to repay has already been repaid. The Fu family owes you, Nansen, and Yunqing, what Nansen wants to take back now is the real Fu family's things!! ”

"If you think it through, call back—"

Lao Mo was silent for a full quarter of an hour, and finally wiped his eyes, and then replied, "Eh, I heard you." ”

"Tell that cub that if I want to go back, he must come and pick me up himself-"

Old Mork paused and asked with some incomprehension, "Old lady, what do you mean?" ”

"My good grandson!"

Old lady Fu's eyebrows and eyes are cold, although she is old, but from her facial features, she must have been a beauty when she was young.

Do things and be a man, but still so calm and calm.

Lao Mo remembered that when he was rescued from the Ghost Gate by Fu Chengyi more than 20 years ago, he saw the old lady for the first time and was attracted by her elegance.

It's just that she is eighteen years older than him.

That kind of secret affection has always only taken root in the heart, sprouted in the heart, and then withered, withered, and rotted in the heart.

Now she's old.

He's getting old, too.

Otherwise, how could others always call him Lao Mo?

But older women will always age faster than men.

When the old lady stood beside her and opened the car door, she was as young as her sister who was two years older than herself.

It's just that when I saw her again eighteen years later, Lao Mo remembered that when she drove the car to tie Fu Nansen back, the bleakness in her eyebrows and eyes had not changed for nearly twenty years, and it was still a feeling so familiar to him.

The forbidden love that will not be recognized by the world, even if he thinks about it, will intuitively deny it.

In the twilight of life, it was not the turn to return to the time to bloom that flower.

"Well, I'll just say that."

Lao Mo looked at her heavily, looked at her for a while, then lowered his head and walked out.

The cold wind blew his scarf flying.

He climbed up the low slope and climbed to the tomb.

Then he took out the incense candles and paper money that he had kept all year round from the small house on the side, and lit a cigarette.

The hot fire, like the hatred that had been rekindled for many years, burned for a time, blackening the tombstone.

Thick smoke rose, and Lao Mo took a deep breath.

choked on the smoke, choked on tears, choked the whole person and didn't squat steadily, and kept holding the tombstone with his hands.

Where his finger fell, there was only a beautiful black and white photo.

The wind blew through this lonely grave, leaving a little cold breath.

A voice suddenly appeared behind him—