C17

Then he smiled shyly and thought about going to the balcony to get a broom to clean the house.

His feet stopped on a piece of white paper in front of him. Gu Mo seemed to be somewhat familiar with it, and when he finally remembered, his tears were already dripping down onto the white paper, and on the words, creating a puddle of tears.

He wept silently just like that. Tears came out of his eyes one after another as if he was crying silently.

After a moment, he picked up the piece of paper and entered the room. He gently placed it on the piece of paper that originally belonged to him. It was as if he was treating a precious object.

Then, Gu Mo placed him back into the cupboard and locked the door.

The joke and beauty that symbolized everything was already over. The suffering, the laughter, was over.

"Gu Mo, your foster father has already... Already... "Dead." The last two words contained the sadness of countless people.

No one went in. No one asked where Gu Mo had been for the past two days, perhaps some of them just wanted to watch the show.

Perhaps there were some who only looked at each other with cold eyes and were too used to seeing too much joy and sorrow, thus their hearts began to become numb.

Or perhaps, there were some who truly mourned for Gu Mo. They were people who were often taken care of by Father Gu. They had lived together for dozens of years. Although Gu Mo was brought to this district a few years ago, when he was still alive, his father treated him like his own son.

The neighbors could see that, although Gu Mo greeted them often, but they still smiled at each other.

Dad, dead?

Gu Mo had not even recovered from Wan Yanyinye's incident, yet he had already received the news, so the impact on him could be imagined.

"I went out this morning to buy groceries and saw your father go out with a coat on. He didn't tell me when I asked him. And when I came back, he was like that. "

"Little Mo, you have to grieve. Hurry up and take care of your dad's affairs."

"Yes, yes. After all, death is death. "

"What did you say?"

Everything was fine for the older generation members who originally wanted to comfort Gu Mo, but were led astray by the young man who just spoke inappropriately, and the conversation instantly turned entirely to that young man, to the point where they didn't even know when Gu Mo left. In the end, everyone could only help him tidy up the room, and then, each of them would return home to continue worrying about the unforgettable scripture in their own homes.

Everything was quiet again, and the boy was not asking his mother whose family was dead. It was as if nothing had ever happened, gradually forgetting about the short few decades in their lives.

Who would still remember that small district, one room. There was a father and son, though not his own, though the father liked to drink, and the son was not good with words, and they did not seem very close. However, who would have known that two people would quietly leave this place on that late autumn's day? Perhaps they had gone to find a better life, but everything had come to naught.

Gu Mo went to the funeral home and watched his father's corpse being pushed into the crematorium. After that, all that was left was a pile of ashes.

Gu Mo carried it to the bridge and opened the lid. The thick layer of dust flew along with the wind. While Gu Mo was standing at the top of the bridge, below him was the surging ocean surface, and in the distance was a field of red and green. He no longer hesitated and didn't have a shred of attachment as he jumped down just like that.