Liu Xijun's gaze was ethereal, and she was completely immersed in her own world.

"There is often a big gap between dreams and reality. But Mom's death is real. The little mother was shot. The fireplace in that room was burning so brightly that my mother was almost literally sacrificed.

I never mentioned my dreams to anyone, because I thought they were ridiculous - it was obviously insincere. On the contrary, I suspect that it is not a dream at all, which is why I feel frightened and difficult to talk to anyone.

I told people that I was in the room outside when my mom was shot, and I myself always believed it to be so.

However, there is no one who can prove that I am outside.

Perhaps, I really killed my mother in the living room, in that way. Otherwise, why do I know the shape and feel of the gun? Besides, I didn't touch the gun afterwards. ”

Shi Ling and I looked at each other, it is indeed difficult to explain, thinking about the day, and dreaming at night, how can people dream of things that they don't know at all? Of course, the world is very strange, and I am more and more convinced of this, after all, I am not ordinary people now.

Liu Xijun was still babbling to himself. "If I could, I would like to go back to our house and pretend that nothing had happened, hoping that I can live as before. Although my mom is gone, I can at least overcome that nasty dream by constantly reminiscing about the days I spent with her.

I love my mom very much. She replaced the shadow of the woman in my memory...... Sometimes, I even feel resentful that my mom is not my own. Even though I was once indignant because of my father's preference for sons and daughters, Liu Yaoyong became the center of the family, but I still loved my little mother deeply. When we are alone, I feel incredibly happy.

But...... Did I really kill my mother? I've forgotten all about it except when I'm dreaming? If that's the case, what exactly should I do? In the middle of the night, no matter how much I cried or screamed, my mother couldn't answer me. I was afraid of nightmares, so I could only reminisce with my eyes open.

A long, long time ago, this area was still part of the urban-rural junction, and high-rise buildings had not yet been built, my father was busy with work, and I lived with my mother, brother, and Aunt Mei in a mansion surrounded by high walls. There were some people who cleaned up the garden, but I didn't know them.

At that time, I didn't know anything about the world outside the walls. As far as I can remember, I've never stepped out of the door. But I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Because, everything I love is within the walls.

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At that time, everyone outside was preaching that reading was useless, and I didn't go to school, but there were a lot of books at home, and I read those books for self-study.

I've never seen our house from a distance, so I have no idea what it looks like.

However, the outer walls are made of the same gray stone as the enclosure wall, and there is an attic above the second floor with a large black triangular roof.

There were many, many rooms in the house, so many that some of them were locked and never used at all, and I didn't know anything about them. On the first floor is the porter and living room, as well as a revolving staircase to the second floor, four or five rooms of different sizes, a spacious dining room and dinette, and a kitchen.

In the rooms on the first floor, I am most familiar with the kitchen where Aunt Mei and her family work, the small dining room where I eat with my mother, and the terrace that extends from the small dining room to the garden. There is a fireplace in every room, and the fire is lit from autumn to spring.

The other rooms are only used when guests visit, and I won't go in. As for the guests, we'll talk about it later.

On days from spring to autumn when it's neither too hot nor too cold, my mom and I spend most time on the terrace. There was a glass-topped table on the terrace where we had breakfast and tea.

Mom also said that in this home, the terrace is her favorite place. Sitting on the terrace, the garden in front of you is like a painting. The little mother who is full of artistic temperament likes to look out at the garden. I prefer to watch my mom sit in front of the garden.

Let's talk about the garden. I heard that it used to be a large mansion for the eunuchs, and there were many lanterns around the pond, pine trees winding their branches, and rockeries and stepping stones. However, when I saw the garden, there were no pine trees or lanterns, and it became a European-style garden that matched the gate of the mansion. The pond is covered with water lilies, with jade-colored round leaves cascading on the surface of the water, and in summer, countless bright red lotus flowers bloom.

Sitting on the terrace and looking out at the garden, you can't see the surrounding walls at all. Because a row of towering trees planted against the wall obscured the entire wall. Therefore, it is as if we are not in an ordinary garden, but in a forest.

The tallest trees are cedars, which do not lose their leaves in winter, followed by a row of camphor trees, and maple trees, which spit out young leaves in the spring and turn golden yellow in the fall. The closer we get, the shorter the trees become, and there are many flowering trees in front of the house. There are white lilacs, magnolias, and pearl flowers, golden osmanthus with a pleasant aroma, crab claw orchids with white and red colors, blue-purple bulbous hydrangeas, and purple-red azaleas.

The willow trees by the water lotus pond droop their thin willow leaves, almost touching the water. The pond is surrounded by a green turf. Although there are also gardeners, Xiao Ma doesn't seem to like gardens that are too deliberately manipulated. She often says that she likes gardens like nature's forests.

So, the flower garden is planted only with rose seedlings and tulips that do not prune, and although they bloom from time to time, the flowers appear to be a little stunted because there is neither fertilization nor insect catches for them.

On the other hand, the flowers and plants that grow naturally from seeds flying from unknown locations are full of energy. Yellow rape flowers, red milk vetch, and blue phalaenopsis compete on the turf of the garden, but the most beautiful flowers in spring are weeping peaches.

In summer, the garden is full of greenery and the water lilies are beautiful. The breeze blowing through the pond is cool, and the fragrance of gardenias blooming in the distance is brought in.

To be honest, drinking tea and eating on the terrace in the middle of summer is not an easy task. This is because the garden is full of trees and flowers, and in the summer, all kinds of insects fly around. I don't like to let insects fly into the honey or milk on the table.

So, my mom and I both love spring. At the end of winter, it's always exciting to finally get outside and we eat breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner on the terrace until we go to bed.

Unlike my brother, who likes to run around, we never get tired of this kind of daily life. The scenery of the garden changed all the time with the movement of the sun, and my mother hummed a song all at once, recited beautiful poems all at once, and once performed the lines of the play in front of me. As a talented girl, my mother is very versatile, and what she is best at is not painting, but imitating other people's voices.

I forget how old I was when I was old. On that day, the only weeping peach in the garden suddenly bloomed all over the branches. The color of this weeping peach is particularly elegant. Peach blossoms with a hint of red in white bloom and crush the branches. It was a very large tree, taller than the second floor. The branches are full of pink flowers, but the flowers are surprisingly quiet, shrouded in a shadow of flowers, as if it were another world.

The little mother stretched out her hand to the garden and said, "Xijun, today I want to tell you the story of that peach blossom." "

Then, she suddenly changed her tone and began to tell the story of the peach blossoms, the story of the peach blossom tree that had been standing alone in the garden and bloomed beautifully once a year.

Last year, in this door today, the peach blossoms on the faces of the people were red. Men, women and children come to the flowers, rejoicing at the beauty of the peach blossoms, feeling sorry for the falling of the peach blossoms, singing and crying under the peach blossom tree, and meeting, falling in love and breaking up under the peach blossom tree. Although the life of a flower is short, the peach blossom tree standing in the garden lives longer than a person. People come and go, only the peach blossom tree has been standing there.

Although I can't repeat what my mother said at the time, the tone of my mother's voice, the way she looked up, the crystal clear face when she looked up at the sky, and the arms that slowly swayed like peach blossom branches swaying in the wind were all so impressive.

Finally, the little mother, who was deeply attracted by the peach blossoms, walked down the marble staircase, barefoot, and gently stepped on the turf to the garden. My mother is like a shadow, and even when she walks, she is more beautiful than anyone else.

When my mom and I were together, we almost always wore casual clothes, but when we had guests, we always wore loungewear. Whether it's casual wear or loungewear, her favorite is black.

My mother's skin is as pale as snow, and her hair is as black and shiny as if she had just been washed, so she is particularly beautiful in black clothes. The black of transparent tulle, the black of shiny silk, the black of velvet that shimmers with a dark light, the black of spinning that makes a rustling sound, the black ...... of looming gross.

My mom and I don't wear jewelry when we're together. She stood under a weeping pinch in a black gown with a wide open neckline—sleeves that reached the back of the hand, a skirt that reached to the floor, and a plain gown with no ornamentation.

In the dim light under the tree, surrounded by white flowers, the little mother's face looked so snow-white. The hands that flash from time to time are like two flowers leaving the branches. The little mother looked up at the treetops and stood, as if she was a goddess of spring. I feel that my little mother is more beautiful and sacred than ever before, but it is out of reach, as if she will blend into the peach blossom tree like this.

I suddenly felt scared and hoped that my mother would come back to me soon. How I wanted to shout - Mom, come back quickly.

However, I couldn't make a sound. At that time, my little mother was so beautiful, it seems that she is no longer my little mother. I definitely can't be as beautiful as my little mom. My mom and I know this very well......".

I can hear the voiceover of these words. Yu Zujia looked at Liu Xijun thoughtfully, suddenly lowered his head and wrote a line on the paper, then got up and turned around to show us behind the mirror, the line of words was "Could it be that Liu Xijun also has psychopathic tendencies, or is he hiding something?" Generally, people who blindly look back on the past are often unwilling to collide with the troubles in life! "

I stared at Shi Lingren, but he didn't answer, and after returning from the psychiatric clinic, his mood seemed to be a little heavy. Especially when he heard Li Nan tell him about Zhu Qi's dream, he had an unspeakable mystery in his frowning eyebrows, which made people unable to decipher it with logical thinking alone.

This book has been put on the shelves, I hope you will go to the [Pretend to be a Gentleman] Panda to read the page of the book after reading the chapters to give support, every click, every collection, every monthly pass, every comment, every subscription is a great support for "Pretending to be a Ghost", and it is also the motivation for the author Potemkin to write.