Kill crazy! The real daughter rushed to rectify the rich family!

Wen Can walked in.

He walked into the light as if walking into a dusty old dream.

Wen Rong let out a long sigh, followed in with his hands behind his back, adjusted his expression, and showed the smile that a father should have again.

“Remember this ashtray?”

Wen Rong motioned him to look at the item on the coffee table, and said with a nostalgic tone: "You were still young at the time, and you inexplicably fell in love with this item at the auction. Your mother actually disagreed and said that this simply predicted that you would become a smoker in the future and did not allow me to bid. But Dad still took the photo for you despite her glare..."

Wen Can's eyes moved and he saw the ashtray.

The shape is indeed peculiar, and it is obvious that curiosity is more important than the material.

I don't know how long it has been here, and the color has turned slightly yellow.

He stared at the ashtray. The man's voice in his ears seemed to be blurred through a layer of fog.

"Who knew you got bored of it after playing with it for a short while and insisted on putting it in your parents' room. Your mom was afraid that this was encouraging me to smoke more, so dad kept it under pressure. Do you remember what dad said at the time?"

"..."

"Dad said..."

·

"It would be a waste to use such an artistic object to hold cigarette ash. Since my son likes it, I'll use it to hold his marbles."

As the man spoke, he threw a marble from the boy's hand into the pot.

The beads were spinning in circles inside.

The boy looked up happily, and when he saw his father winking at him strangely, he blinked as well.

·

The young father's vibrant face blurred before his eyes.

Amid the spinning sound of the marbles, he heard a sigh of vicissitudes: "Thinking about it now, I can't believe that Ah Can actually liked playing with marbles and building blocks. You've grown up so fast, and there won't be marbles in this box soon, but Dad still can't bear to throw it away."

"And," Without waiting for Wen Can to respond, Wen Rong walked to the antique display cabinet again, picked up a bizarre handmade wooden sculpture, and turned to him cautiously, "Do you remember this? Your parents made it with you. It took more than twenty times to finally complete this one. Do you remember what it is carved from?"

"..."

Seeing Wen Can's unresponsive expression, he just assumed that he didn't remember. He smiled sadly, then lowered his head and touched the wooden sculpture lovingly: "It's a sleeping sea otter. I originally thought you wanted to carve a whale, but you insisted that the whale sculpture must be big enough, and small materials are not suitable for carving whales. In the end, you chose a sea otter, but a sea otter is not easy to carve. Your mother was very interested in accompanying you at first, but later she couldn't sit still anymore, so she ran away in various ways. In the end, it was your father who accompanied you to finish the carving..."

"You don't even remember."

Wen Rong sighed deeply, as if he was lost, and took his aging father to look at the vicissitudes of life of the young child. Anyone who heard it would be moved.

The only thing that moved was Wen Can's eyes.

He looked at Wen Rong reminiscing about the past while looking at the old objects in the room.

Every time Wen Rong walked somewhere or picked up something, his eyes would move, not like he was following, but more like he was capturing.

He was like a machine that had broken down or stopped, responding mechanically and coldly to specific instructions.

Walk from corner to corner.

The dusty room seemed to come back to life.

Those things, with the glory of the past, with the warmth and flowing images of memory, appeared in the light one by one, piece by piece, until they filled the entire room.

The man's voice became blurred, but it was everywhere, buzzing like a fly and stinging his eardrums.

Just before the buzzing noise reached boiling point, he finally opened his mouth.

"Where are the wedding photos?"

"..."

Wen Rong, who was walking with his head held high and in high spirits, with tears in his eyes, suddenly froze.

He didn't move.

Wen Can raised his eyes from behind him. They were dark and empty, and seemed to be filled with a huge tsunami. He stared at his back like a mantis raising its sickle to its prey in the middle of the night. "Where is the wedding photo that was originally hanging there?"

"..."

Wen Rong still didn't move.

Wen Can moved.

He slowly walked to the coffee table, wiped the ashtray with two fingers, lifted it up, and rubbed off the thick ash.

Then he took away the ashtray, and the table was clean without any trace.

Wen Can laughed, "You cleaned the furniture very well, but why didn't you clean the other things? Did you lock these things up separately because you were afraid of damaging them? When did you put them out again? You didn't even remember to wash them. You even remembered to take out these cheap little things, but why did you forget the wedding photos?"

He turned his head nonchalantly and looked at Wen Rong's back: "I spent so much money to customize the wedding photos. If you don't deliberately destroy them, they will not be damaged for a hundred years. It can't be like that photo, yellowed and distorted, right?"

The young son laughed and joked in a light and playful manner: "Aren't you afraid that my mother will be angry and come to see you at night?"

"What nonsense!!!"

The man who had been as stiff as a terracotta warrior suddenly came to life.

When he turned around suddenly, his face had turned red in a very short time, his eyes had widened to the limit, and the bloodshot whites of his eyes looked extremely horrified, as if he had seen a ghost.

Wen Can stared into his eyes, a faint smile on his lips, but his tone was surprised: "I was just joking, not you, is seven years of avoiding the topic enough?"

"...I, I just..." Wen Rong's speech system was obviously confused, and it took him a while to find the words, "Your mother won't be angry with me."

He took a deep breath and raised his head slightly, as if to tell himself firmly: "You have no idea how much your mother and I love each other - she will never be angry with me."

"..."

The warm smile was poured inch by inch, and then cracked.

His hands trembled first and then suddenly tightened, the friction between the joints made a crisp sound like breaking, and even the blood deep in the flesh seemed to be boiling and surging.

"She will never..." From the corner of his frozen mouth, from between his tightly clenched teeth, he squeezed out little by little, and the voice seemed to float out, "She will never be angry with you?"

Even the dumbest animal can sense danger from a sudden stillness or even stagnation in the air.

Wen Rong is no exception.

He finally felt that something was wrong. A terrible premonition like a disaster was coming over him, and the thing that had been forcibly suppressed in his heart was about to break through the surface.

In the midst of the shock, he could only force a smile, his voice as weak as a hollowed-out bamboo pole: "Ah Can, Dad has thought about it. Mom's death is an unprecedented disaster for both of us, but seven years is enough. Even if we are in grief, we can still rely on the long memories of seven years ago to support each other--"