A story related to February Red

The silk tent hasn't been changed for a long time.

She couldn't sleep in the middle of the night, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the curtain hanging by the bed, and it looked dead and dim in the moonlight. It turned out to be silky with light, like silk drawn from the whitest silver.

Sure enough, no matter how good things are, they always go from good to bad.

In the past, as soon as the beginning of autumn passed, she would personally dismantle this tent and rinse it herself, she knew the temper of this thing, and had to wait carefully, inch by inch.

Now that she is not allowed to get out of bed, this thing is no one to serve it, and it seems less and less worthy of being treated so carefully.

Perhaps, at the beginning of autumn next, someone will dare to touch this thing, but that person must not be himself.

At noon, although the doctor said to him outside the house, she still heard a little, her illness, and she didn't know how many days she had to survive.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and the pain in her chest seemed to improve. How many days? She can't remember clearly, sick people, can't count days, her mother has taught her this since she was a child, she has been sick since she was a child, she doesn't count days, no matter how long she has been sick, it is only counted as one day. It doesn't hurt so much to think about.

However, if he does not count the days, he will not fail to count.

Compared with her own pain, the faint pain in her heart came more from him, these painful days, she can be forgotten by a stupid woman, but the smart man, but remembered it like a knife.

In the past, when she was a little girl, none of the shrewd men who ate noodles before the noodle stall were carrying bags and bags on their backs, and none of them were happy, which seemed to be justified.

She looked at the tent and her thoughts pumped back. The curtains cut by the master from Suzhou took a lot of thought, and the places where they hung were very different. The hook of the curtain has a jade-encrusted hanging strip, and the gold part is carved with mandarin ducks. She used to feel morale, but the hook can be made so delicately, and it is rare on the market. If I didn't have anything to pick, I brought it back, and put it together with this special silk tent, which was a good match.

What will the next person to help him wash the silk tent look like? This thing is worth a lot of money, it will never be destroyed, and he likes the texture of this tent quite a lot, so he should keep it, right? Stay, always clean.

Do you want to leave a letter for that person? She thought again, if she stayed, would she feel that she was troubled?

She was a little apprehensive, a little unhappy, and a little worried.

She suddenly didn't want others to touch this silk tent, it would be dirty, and she wanted this thing to hang here forever.

There was some heartache, if she could, she wanted to be able to go on like this, even if she couldn't get better, she could only lie down for the rest of her life, but she didn't want to leave if she could see him every day.

In a trance, she remembered the moment when he saved her, she was put on her shoulder, in front of her was a terrible and unknowable fate, she was already desperate, at that time, she saw him, as if she saw the last straw.

Then he came, and she watched him descend from heaven like a god before them. Every word after that, she now remembers it clearly.

"You always follow me, no one dares to bully you."

"Really?"

"I, as a person, will never break my word when I say it to a woman."

He did, she thought to herself, but unfortunately he didn't expect that the life she could see was not his life.

In the middle of the night, she got out of bed silently, he lay quietly beside her, beside her, he could always sleep very deeply, she was careful not to make a sound, little by little the silk tent was removed, and washed in the yard.

The sick and weak body was already difficult to exert strength, and every movement affected the pain in her chest, and she washed, her face became more and more pale, and her hair hung down messily. She used her wet hands to wipe away the broken hair on her face, and she couldn't see clearly whether the corners of her eyes were stained with water or her tears.

One last time, she told herself, it was still business as usual.

She didn't see Februaryhong standing inside the house looking at her, he didn't sleep at all.

Neither of them alarmed the other, and stood quietly, in the same moonlight.