Chapter 464 Tears are sour

Standing at the door of the dilapidated house, letting the cold rain pour down, Yan Yin's brows were tightly wrinkled together.

"This is fake, it should be right," Yan Yin said to herself, "but am I fake, or is everything in front of me fake?" But why, I really felt the coldness of the rain and the bitterness in my heart. If everything in front of me is fake, then where the hell am I. Why, I'm here. ”

At this time, Yan Yin's mind was full of doubts and incomprehension.

After he fell in love, everything began to change.

When he was not expecting it, the scene quietly changed to the scene of this moment.

A little boy shivering in a dilapidated and dilapidated house. And he, however, trembled with the little boy's body with empathy.

It seems that he is the little boy. And that little boy is him.

After thinking about it carefully for a long time, Yan Yin never remembered that she had such an experience when she was a child. Maybe there were, but he forgot about it.

He suspected that this scene was for the ancestor of love, but the ancestor of the emperor was a woman. In the midst of her emotions, how can a little boy appear. Moreover, the little boy's every move is so real. I didn't have to experience it myself, how could such a real picture come about?

said that this was fabricated out of thin air, but Yan Yin didn't believe it.

However, if it is fake, then why is he in this picture?

What is the connection between this?

When he quietly watched the little boy trembling in the dilapidated house looking for the bird's eggs, and the excitement when he found the bird's eggs and the satisfaction after eating the birds' eggs, Yanyin's heart seemed to have a string touched.

Just as he was thinking, the group of children with umbrellas and neat clothes poured into the broken house.

After a while, there was a loud laugh and a shivering, low, muffled grunt.

The little boy was crushed by the men on the cold, rain-soaked ground, and in front of him, four bird eggs had been broken, and inside was a black, stinking cloud of water.

And the little boy just curled up tightly, his teeth clenched, and let the children bully him and abuse him.

"Little tattered, why did you come to this shabby house, a few days ago you came to my kitchen to steal something to eat, today you are so hungry that you want to eat these already stinky, broken bird eggs, haha" A big child laughed and said, "As long as you call me grandpa, I will reward you with a rice ball, how about it?"

"Hehe, and us" Some of the other children took out a ball of paper-wrapped rice balls from their clothes pockets, and looked at the little boy who was lying on the ground with a few feet on his body.

The little boy didn't make a sound, but the cold ground made him shiver from the cold.

Seeing that the little boy had been silent, the group of children scolded and kicked him wantonly.

On the little boy's body, bruises were left one after another.

It was only at this time that Yan Yin understood how the bruises on this little boy's body came about.

Looking at everything that happened in the broken house, Yan Yin still didn't move. Just quietly looked inside, looking at the little boy who was clenching his teeth and his eyes were red, but he didn't shed a single tear.

The little boy's eyes kept looking out of the house, as if he was expecting something, and seemed to be praying for something.

Yan Yin didn't know if the little boy could see himself, but looking at those eyes, Yan Yin suddenly remembered his life in the Yanyun Mountain Range back then.

At that time, he was about the same age as this little boy. But what he faced was a lonely and cold environment, and those strange beasts and fierce birds that roared and screamed in the jungle.

Looking at the little boy, Yan Yin's steps took a step forward, but soon he took it back again.

He had a faint feeling in his heart that if he walked towards the little boy, something would happen that he could not have predicted.

In the dilapidated house, the little boy continued to endure the abuse and wanton bullying of the older boys.

I don't know how long it took, maybe they were tired, or maybe they thought the little boy was too hard and had no fun.

So everyone threw the rice balls in their hands on the ground, dipped them in the water of the smelly and dirty bird droppings, and sneered, "No, eat it!"

After saying that, these people ran out of the dilapidated house with umbrellas and screamed as they came, and ran to the unknown depths of the heavy rain.

Glancing at the small, ignorant and unsympathetic people who had gone away, Yan Yin looked at the dilapidated house with a silent gaze.

The little boy lay on the ground for a long time, his clothes soaking wet. His body was purple and blue, and his lips became darker.

The satisfaction of swallowing a few bird eggs before was shattered by the cruel children who seemed to be evil beasts.

Taking a deep breath, the little boy struggled to prop himself up with his immature hands that were scratched by weeds.

Sitting on the cold and damp ground, two lines of sad tears slowly flowed from the little boy's eyes.

Sitting there, he didn't know what he was heading towards.

The two little hands rubbed the bruises on their bodies while wiping the tears that kept flowing.

Crying may not solve anything.

But tears can slowly wash away the sadness in my heart.

Looking at the rice ball, which had been soaked in the rain mixed with the smell of bird droppings, the little boy wiped the tears from his eyes and got up angrily to kick it away.

Perhaps because he was too emotional, the little boy suddenly slipped and fell. He fell to the ground with a bang, and a pool of scarlet blood flowed from his elbow.

A piece of broken rubble, scratching his arm.

Scarlet blood flowed wantonly.

This striking color blends into the rain and is reflected in the little boy's eyes.

The little boy, sobbing and weeping, shivering, hurriedly got up and clutched his wound tightly with his hands.

It's just that the wound seems to be a little hideous, and it's also a little wanton.

Blood passed through his fingers, still dripping down the dirty ground outside.

It seems that the blood that has been imprisoned for a long time by the thin body of this little boy has also begun to yearn for a broader space.

Trembling step by step to the dilapidated house, the little boy stretched out his hand again, and then the cold rain washed away the booty and the scarlet that stained half of his arms and body red.

It hurts, it hurts.

Very sad, really sad.

Tears slipped involuntarily.

Sadness comes out of the eyes.

Why, the world is so cold.

Why, this world is so ruthless.

A dilapidated house with a pouring rain on the outside and a drizzling rain on the inside.

The thin body, the red eyes, and the immature and frozen red hands washed the wounds and booties of his body again and again with the cold rain on his body.

Dirty world, how to deal with a clean heart.

Lonely and cold people, what do you use to pray for the arrival of warmth.

The blood flowed incessantly, and no matter how much the little boy tried to clean it, the hideous wound on his elbow still bled non-stop.

Perhaps, he was tired.

Perhaps, he is not tired anymore.

Eventually, the boy gave up on washing and sat limp in front of the broken house.

His eyes slowly closed, and a line of warm tears flowed.

A pair of small hands that were purple and red from the cold, hugged their knees, and buried their tearful faces in them.

His body was trembling, his body was a little low.

He was sobbing and mourning. He was helpless and sad.

A heavy rain that seemed to have no end, a dilapidated but barely accommodated house, a little boy in thin clothes and bruises, holding his knees, was silently mourning, sobbing and weeping.

It was eaten by two eggs pulled out of bird droppings.

It is the cold, merciless rain of the heavens, without mercy.

Sleep on the damp and cold ground.

Enduring loneliness, enduring humiliation, full of bitter pain, feeling the loneliness of heaven and earth, a young heart, in this cold rain, before this broken house, became calm, became peaceful, became ......

Finally, the boy fell headlong into the icy rain.

Blood stained the entire ruined house, and a thin body, clutching his knees, fell like that in the still rattling rain.

It's over.

Everything, in the past.

Everything, gone.

The icy rain began to lighten, and a blinding light pierced through the clouds.

A brilliant rainbow appears after the rain, the sun is always after the wind and rain, the warmth dispels the cold, and the light and hope shine in this world.

It's just that there was a little boy who never stood up again.

His body collapsed quietly in front of the wet dilapidated house with his knees tightly clutched.

Perhaps he had been expecting the sunshine, but it didn't appear.

Maybe he prayed for warmth, but it came so late.

People always say that beauty will always come, but he can no longer see it.

The dazzling sunlight shining on the thin body that could no longer feel the warmth, this belated hope, is it ironic?

Perhaps, yes!

Sighing softly, Yan Yin slowly closed her eyes.

Two lines of tears slowly flowed from his eyes.

Move?

Perhaps!

Commiseration?

Perhaps!

When he watched the little boy fall, Yan Yin's heart trembled, and he really felt the little boy's heart.

I felt the warmth of a heart that was pure, clean, and full of hope for the future, but was finally extinguished by the merciless rain.

Crying is not the solution to the problem.

But tears are a clear spring to cleanse the sadness in my heart.

Some people can wash it.

Some people can't be washed.

Some people have not yet been cleaned, but they have lost the opportunity to clean forever.

Slowly walking to the dilapidated house, Yan Yin stretched out her hand to the little boy.

Suddenly, the sun disappeared, the rainbow after the heavy rain disappeared, and the little boy disappeared.

What hasn't changed is the dilapidated house.

and a dirty, unclothed little girl in a dilapidated house.

In her hands, she held several rice balls.

She curled up in a corner of the broken house, sobbing and munching on the smelly, dirty rice balls.

(In this chapter, I couldn't help but cry as I wrote.) Whether it's sour or emotional, I don't understand why. In my mind's eye, I kept reminding me of the joy on a little boy's face after pulling out an egg from bird droppings in a dilapidated house in a heavy rain. Perhaps, he is just an unknown unknown person in the story, but he is a little boy in my heart who wants to reach out and help. Alas...... Writing a book has made me a little emotional, so I'll go and relax before I continue to write. ）