C12

one

Although he is an intelligent and gifted scholar, he has a strong professional background and a great achievement in scientific research. However, his EQ obviously did not match his IQ.

He was not too obsessed with worldly ideas and had a strong desire to innovate. He would always have strange ideas about certain things that were different from ordinary people. His self-awareness was extremely strong, he liked and enjoyed loneliness, he had a clear and strong self-esteem, his heart was sensitive, and he was easily anxious … He was always very persistent about the things he had decided on or his goals. Once he suffered a setback, he would have an unsuitable and intense, or uncontrollable rage …

In my conversations with him, I generally took care to weigh my words.

"Actually, I don't feel good either, but we have to face the reality."

I said to him.

I don't know where I got the courage to be so calm, so clear-headed, and to say every word at the heart of the matter.

However, he rushed over and hugged me tightly once more, pressing the upturned lips of the moon heavily on my lips …

"… …"

I'm a greedy girl.

That upturned moon lips, almost every night will appear in front of my eyes, let me miss it;

Those powerful arms would appear in my dreams almost every day, yearning for him to embrace them again.

That pair of slender and melancholy eyes, almost every day is like a shadow following me, my heart, touched by it, stinging …

Reminiscence is the sweet chewing and the tearing of pain.

I got rid of him again, packed my things quickly, and ran away from his house …

"..."

He chased, and I ran.

He was out of breath after me, and I ran farther and farther away …

The night in Brisbane. The stars were bright. Countless stars, big and small, were embedded in the sky, flickering. The full moon also quietly hung in the sky. With her eyes of wisdom, she could see the sorrow and joy in the human world …

There was not a breath of wind, and Brisbane was like a sleeping baby, silent and silent. I didn't have the heart to admire the moon, count the stars, walk alone on the silent road, I cried and looked back from time to time:

The figure gradually moved away from me.

He stood there motionless, like a statue …

I was so eager to have his love, to hear him talk about those whispers that were filled with tenderness, to enjoy the love of the world …

But I know I can't!

The moment I take a step forward, the flames of desire will devour both him and me, will devour the blissful home that he and Griffin painstakingly managed, and will devour the virtuous Griffin …

Whenever I thought of Griffin's kind, innocent face, of the baby she held in her arms, I could not meet her anxious eyes, could not bear the moral approval of my heart.

"..."

I quit my highly paid but stressful job before I'd been in their family for four months.

One day, however, Griffin came to the school with the baby in his arms.

I was in the library at the time, looking for information, and I was buried in the middle of a pile of files.

"Zou Li, do you have time? I want to invite you for a cup of afternoon tea." She was a little too attentive. She was much thinner than she had been when she had just given birth to her second child.

I looked at her in surprise, but said nothing. I stood up and nodded.

That was the thirtieth day after I left Von Cornon's house...

As promised, we arrived at a café in the center of Brisbane. Everyone ordered a cup of coffee.

After a few pleasantries, she went straight to the point.

"He's already told me about you and Vernon."

"No," she said. Her expression was flat, her eyes downcast. Her hands were white and delicate, but due to nervousness and uneasiness, she rubbed her fingers back and forth …

"..."

two

I didn't say anything. His mind went blank.

"..."

Ever since I left their house and walked back to school alone, I started to regret it!

My longing increased day by day, uncontrollable. Every day in his dreams, he would see images related to the avarice of Coron …

Several times, without knowing it or knowing it, I came to the door of their yard and saw the branches that I had once cut myself, stretching out vigorously, a small yellow flower of some unknown kind, blooming passionately and fragrant. I also saw the door frame that I had once polished, the small mailbox that I had personally made and nailed to the door. I stroked them in the doorway as if I were caressing Cannon.

One night, when I came to their door in a daze, I saw the orange light of Cannon's study, a familiar figure sitting behind the curtains, his features, his face, so natural that I wanted to push the door open and just look at him and say hello. Only when a woman carrying a baby appears beside him, did I suddenly wake up from my reverie and flee in a hurry …

… …

I punished myself harshly for this, and I began to wash the dishes again.

At noon every day, I make my way to a Chinese restaurant. I pass through a crowded restaurant that smells of chicken, duck, and fish. I go to the back kitchen, where there is a row of tap water. About 10 meters long in the pool, is a mountain of greasy dishes, chopsticks.

Two hours of work is definitely a lot of physical work." In a half-bow, I had to quickly soak the greasy dishes and utensils with a sponge after applying detergent. Then, I had to rinse them with a tap, dry them with a dry towel in another large basin, and place the dishes on the table behind me one by one …

I have calculated that in two hours, I basically have to wash more than 600 dishes, and complete the subsequent drying and tidying up of the sections. In thirty days, I should have already washed nearly 20 thousand greasy bowls and plates …

So I washed the dishes day after day.

Under the cold wind and the scorching sun, every greasy bowl and dish that I wash seems to be the object of atonement for the desires in my heart. After washing them clean, the pain in my heart lessens, is put down, is numbed …

Sweat, wet my clothes do not feel, cold wind, blowing on my lips and cheeks did not find. My hands, which were originally smooth and delicate, became extremely rough. Numerous wrinkles of uneven thickness covered my hands like the deep lines on an old woman's face …

However, every time I get as tired as a grandson and carefully examine these extremely rough hands, an inexplicable joy would surge in my heart …

This kind of life experience, in my 20s growth process, is unique!