Fu Nanli had even forgotten that there was someone sitting on the sofa behind him. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and started smoking with a frown.
Even after such a long time, his thoughts were still in a mess.
Twenty years had passed. At that time, he was still young, nine years old. Then, he fell seriously ill, as if he was trying to forget the pain. The memory before he was nine years old was blurred, and only the image of his parents 'love was left.
Now that the news had suddenly hit him, his long-lost memories gradually came alive and clear.
Were his parents really in love?
At what age did people start to have memories?
Some people were early, while others were late. Fu Nanli was one of those with a high IQ, and he could even vaguely remember things that happened when he was around three years old.
A sentence that his mother had said suddenly came back to him from the depths of his memory.
[ if you don't love me, why did you marry me? ]
His face was a little pale, and he reached out to press his temple. The painkillers didn't seem to work, and he had a splitting headache.
Once the gate of memory was broken, the past would pour out.
It seemed that his parents often quarreled.
When he was eight years old, his father seemed to have said that he was going on a concert tour and had gone abroad, not returning home for a long time.
It seemed that he had not returned home for nearly a year.
When he was a child, he had no doubt about tour performances. Now that he thought about it, what kind of tour would take a year?
A world tour would end in two months at most.
After his father went abroad, his mother, who had always been optimistic and capable, seemed to have cried behind his back.
It was summer, and the vegetation outside the window was lush. He returned from school, and the driver followed him with his school bag. He saw his mother standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. It was raining outside, so he called out to her.
His mother turned around. She did not have time to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes. He asked her what was wrong, and she said that she was just listening to a sad song.
A very old-fashioned phonograph was playing on the side, and the music inside was " the symphony of sorrow " by Tchaikovsky, played by his father.
And before his father went abroad, his parents seemed to have had a fierce quarrel.
Fu Nanli felt his palm turn a little cold. After the cigarette was burned out, he lit another one. That inexplicable text message was like a Red Hot iron, burning his internal organs and causing him some pain.
Seeing that he had smoked three cigarettes in a row, Wen Qiao couldn't sit still anymore. She walked to his side and pulled his hand."Why do you keep smoking?"
Fu Nanli hurriedly snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray at the side, his voice hoarse. "What are you still doing here?"
Wen Qiao placed both hands on his waist. With one hand around her waist, Fu Nanli hurriedly waved the cigarette in the air with the other. you didn't leave? "
Wen Qiao shook her head. I'm not leaving. Is there something on your mind? " Or did something happen at home? Can you tell me? Although I'm not good at consoling others, I might be able to share some of your burden."
Fu Nanli forced a smile. it's the company's business. It's a little troublesome to expand into the European market. You wouldn't understand even if I told you.
No matter how late Wen Qiao realized it, she could tell that he wasn't telling the truth. With his ability, how could he be so troubled by work matters?
"Then let's take a shower and sleep? There's nothing that can't be solved with a good night's sleep."
She pulled him to the bedroom. His movements were a little mechanical, so Wen Qiao helped him get his sleeping robe and pushed him into the bathroom.
As the water from the showerhead gushed down, Fu Nanli snapped back to his senses and recalled the few years his parents had spent together.
The gate of memory collapsed.