Fu Nanli even forgot that there was someone sitting on the sofa behind him. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and smoked it with a frown.
After such a long time, his thoughts are still in a mess.
Time has passed, twenty years have passed. He was still young at that time, only nine years old. Then he fell seriously ill. As if he deliberately wanted to forget the pain, his memories before the age of nine became blurred, and the only impression left was the scene of his parents' love.
Now, when that piece of news suddenly came, the long-lost memories gradually became vivid and clear.
Are your parents really in love
At what age do people begin to have memories
Some people learn early, some late. Fu Nanli has a high IQ and he can even vaguely remember things when he was around three years old.
A sentence my mother said suddenly came up from the depths of my memory -
If you don't love me, why did you marry me
His face turned pale and he reached out and pressed his temples. The painkillers seemed to be ineffective and his head was splitting with pain.
Once the floodgates of memory are broken, the past will pour out.
It seems that parents often have quarrels.
When he was eight years old, his father seemed to be going on a concert tour and went abroad, and he didn't come home for a long time.
It seems like I haven't been home for almost a year.
When I was a kid, I believed in touring music, but now that I think about it, what kind of tour would take a year
A world tour will be over in two months at most.
After his father went abroad, his mother, who had always been cheerful, optimistic and capable, seemed to have cried behind his back.
It was a summer day, with lush vegetation outside the window. He was returning from school, and the driver followed him carrying his schoolbag. He saw his mother standing in front of the French window. It was raining outside, and he shouted.
His mother turned around, without wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes. He asked her what was wrong, and she said she was just listening to a sad song.
There was a very old-fashioned gramophone next to it, and the music on it was Tchaikovsky's [Pathetique Symphony] played by my father.
Before his father went abroad, a fierce quarrel seemed to have broken out between his parents.
Fu Nanli felt his palms getting cold. When the cigarette butt burned out, he lit another one. The inexplicable text message was like a bloody iron, burning his internal organs.
Wen Qiao saw that he had smoked three cigarettes in a row and couldn't sit still anymore. He walked over to him and pulled his hand: "Why do you keep smoking?"
Fu Nanli quickly put out the cigarette butt in the ashtray beside him and asked in a hoarse voice: "Why are you still here?"
Wen Qiao put her hands on his waist, Fu Nanli put one hand around her waist and waved the cigarette in the air with the other hand, "You didn't leave?"
Wen Qiao shook his head, "I'm not leaving. Are you worried about something? Or is there something wrong at home? Can you tell me? Although I'm not good at comforting others, I might be able to help you share some of the burden."
Fu Nanli forced a smile and said, "It's a company matter. We need to expand into the European market. It's a bit laborious. You won't understand even if I tell you."
Even if Wen Qiao realized it later, he could tell that he was not telling the truth. With his ability, how could he be so worried about work
"Then take a shower and have a good sleep? There's nothing a good sleep can't solve."
She pulled him to the bedroom. His movements were a little mechanical, so Wen Qiao helped him get his bathrobe and pushed him into the bathroom.
The water from the shower head rushed down, and Fu Nanli suddenly came back to his senses, recalling the daily life of his parents during the few years they spent together.
The floodgates of memory collapsed.
(End of this chapter)