Ying Shao is a Girl

Ying Junchu clenched the wooden comb he picked up from the ground.

How could Ling Yiche have this comb?

Is he Ying Huaijiu?

No, not possible.

Except for their eyes, they are completely different.

So what is the relationship between Ling Yiche and him?

Ying Hua told her that Xiao Jiu was still alive. Since he was alive, why didn't he return to the Ying family for so many years?

The fire that year came strangely, and Ying Huaijiu seemed to disappear out of thin air.

She had never had any interaction with Ling Yiche before, so why did she feel inexplicably familiar with Ling Yiche.

A mystery that cannot be solved.

irritable.

Ying Junchu took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

The hairy head of the boy on his shoulder moved slightly.

She glanced sideways at him.

He didn't sleep very peacefully, and his brows were furrowed.

Ying Junchu stuffed the cigarette back into his pocket.

Forget it, send him back first.

-

The next day.

Ling Yiche woke up from his dream.

The sky was gray.

It was still raining lightly outside the window.

No intention of stopping.

He looked around, his brain spinning.

This is where?

The surroundings are familiar, and the scenery outside the window is also familiar.

"..."

He remembered.

This is Shunhua Villa.

His heart twitched suddenly.

It hurts.

He remembered something very important.

Yesterday, my mother passed away.

He no longer has a mother.

If possible, how he wished this was a dream.

With a creak, the door was pushed open.

Ying Jun came in at first.

She caught a glimpse of Ling Yiche sitting on the ground blankly, with deep sadness in his eyes that could not be resolved.

After knocking on the door several times but getting no response, she just opened the door and came in.

As soon as he came in, he saw Ling Yiche sitting on the ground.

A familiar scene.

A little speechless.

"The ground is cold, get up." The cold voice was filled with displeasure.

The skinny little boy on the floor showed no reaction.

His eyes were empty and confused.

If this continues, he will become stupid sooner or later.

"..."

It's better to do it yourself.

Ying Junchu stepped forward and lifted the person up.

Then threw it on the bed.

Ling Yiche was a little confused and called her softly: "Mr. Ying?"

"The ground is cold, don't sit down."

Ying Junchu's tone was cool.

"Well, thank you." The young man nodded meekly.

"Go to the hospital..."

She paused suddenly.

"Send your mother to be cremated..."

Ling Yiche's eyelids drooped, but what was supposed to come would still come.

"good."

A monotonous word implies too much sadness for him.

-

China has regulations that people who die in hospitals must be cremated.

Can't be buried.

Ling Yiche wiped Shao Yun clean and dressed neatly.

He stared at his mother for the last time.

Such a familiar face, but there was no trace of life in it anymore.

The distance between heaven and man is the farthest distance in the world.

The coffin closed slowly, and Shao Yun lay peacefully inside.

The car drove slowly to the nearest crematorium.

But, it arrived quickly.

In front of the crematorium door, the coffin is a huge and heavy drawer, sliding forward slowly.

Ling Yiche was only five meters away from the furnace door, and the raindrops were blown sideways by the wind and drifted into the corridor.

He stared deeply until the coffin disappeared from sight.

He made his wish in his heart.

Have a good trip, Mom.

May there be no more pain in heaven.

-

When Ying Jun saw Ling Yiche again for the first time, he was holding an urn tightly, his wet hair hanging weakly on his forehead, the stars in his blue eyes were dim, his eyes were severely red and swollen, and his face was pale.

The whole person is like a delicate rag doll that has lost its soul.

This time he completely lost his mother.

I have lost my only close relative in this world.

"come over."

Hearing this, Ling Yiche, who was dressed in mourning clothes, walked towards her mechanically.

Ying Junchu was wearing a black suit. She was holding a large black umbrella, and raindrops fell from the curved surface of the umbrella.