I've come face to face with the red-clothed freak several times, and I've seen his face faintly, but there has never been a moment when I would think that one day I'd be so close to a face. The face of the red cloth was even thinner than last time, and the skin on his face was twisted into a ball, like deep wrinkles, and like twisted scars.

His face is a little deformed, and even the skeleton on his face is different from that of a normal person. The muscles on his face seemed to have completely degenerated, leaving only a wrinkled, ugly human skin, loosely wrapped around his facial bones. His cheeks had sunken deeply, and even his eye sockets were deeply sunken.

The two eyeballs seem to fall out of their sockets at any moment. The throat of the red coat was completely cut, the wound was very deep, and blood kept gushing out. Blood red, very dark in color, and in an instant, the ground where the red clothes were lying was also stained red by this red blood. The scar on the forehead of the red dress reminded me of a lot of things.

In the border province, Kuta Village, there is also a sword-shaped scar on the photo I tried my best to fight with Uncle Man. The photograph was burned by the candle flame, and only one corner remained. There was a man in the photo, but his body, his face, all disappeared as the photograph burned, leaving only a forehead.

At first, when I saw the sword-shaped scar, an inexplicable sense of sadness and familiarity came over me, and I thought I should have seen the person in the photo. But I didn't know why, I couldn't remember it until later, when I knew that I had amnesia, and I didn't know that maybe the person in the photo had appeared in my life, and even that he was a very important person in my life.

The scar on the red shirt's forehead was somewhat deformed, twisted by the atrophy of the muscles, but the shape of the sword remained unchanged. Hongyi was lying on the ground, held in my arms, he still had a breath, struggling desperately, all over his body, the only thing that had life was his eyes.

These eyes have not changed. My heart was like a knife, and I hated myself, why didn't I look closely at Red's eyes in the first place, maybe I could have recognized him sooner if I saw his eyes, so that I might have been able to stop him a long time ago. When a person wants to hide his identity, it is more difficult to identify than to ascend to the sky.

The few fights with Hongyi, all at night, I couldn't see his face clearly, let alone his eyes. His entire face, almost obscured by hair, I didn't have a chance to see it so clearly up close. Now there is a chance, it's just that it's too late.

The red garments at me as if they want to kill me.

"You've changed." I said bitterly. Every time Hongyi struggled, the blood in his throat gushed out more, and when these words were spoken, Hongyi in my arms suddenly quieted down, and his eyes widened and stared at me. The atrophy of his muscles doomed him to no longer show any expression.

But I know that a person's heart does not shrink, he has his emotions and moods. However, I don't know what kind of mood he is in at this moment. I found my father's appearance on the outline of his red-clothed face, very subtle, but such close contact, this subtle sameness, could not escape my eyes and my heart.

I remember that a long, long time ago, my father told me that the eyes are the hearts of people, and only with the heart can we see through the hearts of others. The past flashed through his mind one by one, and my father said that the eyes and the heart are connected, and when he carved the eyes into the puppet, the puppet seemed to come to life.

For so many years, I have been observing all the things in my life, but my father has not told me what to do when a person's heart is clouded. The father's heart has changed, his eyes are no longer bright, he no longer distinguishes between right and wrong, there is no longer tenderness and love, but there is only anger and hatred in his eyes.

My hand gently touched the scar on Hongyi's forehead, this scar was left by me, and I didn't even think about it.

That day, my father sat in front of the door of his hometown, and it was raining in the sky, and the raindrops fell on the bluestone road, splashing one after another. Father sat on a small bench, his hands full of old scars busy. His father's short hair was slightly wet from the rain, but he didn't notice it.

For half a day, I was accompanied by my father. I sat on the wooden threshold, chin propped up, staring at the back of my father, who was making a special carving knife with a slightly curved hilt, which didn't look very good, but which was handy for a left-handed father.

When his father fastened the handle to the body of the carving knife, he finally stood up. The carving knife was very sharp, and my father held the small carving knife in front of his face, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if admiring a great work of art. My father finally finished making the carving knife.

Later, my father used this carving knife to carve out a lifelike little puppet, and the model of the puppet was me. My father used this carving knife to carve out the beauty. When I found the carving knife in the wooden coffin in the border province, I already remembered these memories, but I couldn't remember anything about the rest of the story at that time.

I only remember that I had endured it for a long time, and when my father's carving knife was made, I stood up and ran towards the man. Out of my mouth came a cry: Daddy. The memory came to an abrupt end here, and at this moment, the memory continued. I threw myself at my father, who was so absorbed that he didn't hear my call.

I grabbed my father's leg, and he stabbed him in the forehead with the knife he held in front of him. Blood splattered out, and the blood fell to the ground along with the rain that fell from the sky, and melted. I grabbed my father's leg and blood fell on my face. The rain was still pouring down, and since then, my father has a deep scar on his forehead that can no longer be erased.

The next fragment of memory is that my father sat in front of the door in order to carve the puppet. It's just that at that time, my father had begun to slowly grow long hair, and the hair strands covered his forehead. Year after year passed, and I barely saw the scar on my father's forehead again.

Maybe it's because it's been too long, or maybe it's because this memory has also been erased.

I remembered what my father had said to me, and I closed my eyes slightly, and I tried to feel it with my heart. The figure of the father and the figure in red slowly coincided together. I am unprecedentedly sure that Li Yiran and Hongyi are the same person. Unfortunately, I couldn't read my father's heart.

I slowly opened my eyes, and the red clothes were no longer struggling, and I could feel the anger on his body disappearing little by little.

"I thought you were dead, I wish you were dead." My tears fell on the body of the red cloth, no matter how evil he was, the blood flowing in my body was inherited from the red cloth. The blood in his throat flowed more and more, and every time it flowed out, there was less blood in his body, and his life was consumed a little.

"I also thought about it, I hoped that you would come back to life, but I never thought that you would be resurrected in this capacity." I don't know what kind of mood I have, numbness, coldness, pain, entanglement, all emotions welling up in my heart at this moment. My heart was dripping blood, and it was as if someone had poured salt on the wound in my heart.

"Why did you become like this! You're a human or a ghost! "I couldn't control myself anymore, I screamed hysterically. Shen Cheng, Tang Yingxuan, Jiang Jun, they all stood around us. Shen Cheng didn't do it anymore, Tang Yingxuan didn't do it anymore, I felt like a clown.

The whole world is gray, I wear an ugly hat, ugly clown makeup painted on my face, wearing an ugly clown costume, walking in an ugly posture in this ugly world, ugly pedestrians, all showing me ugly smiles. It was ridicule, ridicule.

In everyone's eyes, even in my own eyes, I was a joke, ridiculous.