The real daughter, she is a Buddhist boss

The evening wind blows the willows, and the hanging branches float slowly, just like the style left by a beauty.

The black schoolbag was slanted behind Fang Yao's back, and his handsome profile was slightly sharp under the setting sun.

Day after day, year after year, he walked alone for almost seven years on this not-too-distant road.

The youthful spirit that should be at this age can't be seen in him, and in Ru Mo's eyes, there seems to be only sadness.

He pushed open the extremely familiar door.

When the corner of the eye fell on the eaves in front of the house, the flash of red light did not hide from his eyes.

But his eyelids drooped slightly, his fingertips paused for a moment, unknown thoughts flashed across his heavy eyes, and then he entered the yard without looking back.

"came back?"

The old man in the courtyard who was watering the plants with a shower did not look back, still looking at his flowers and plants with his body behind his back.

Fang Yao looked at the strange-shaped unknown plants on the ground in silence, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help twitching; he responded softly with an 'um'.

"My hometown sent some things, you go in and see if you like them. If you need them, you can keep them. If you don't like them, I'll let them take them away."

The meandering waterline flowed slowly and touched the front of Fang Yao's shoes; he looked up at his grandfather's slightly bowed back, and suddenly stood there silently, not knowing what to think.

Seeing that he didn't answer for a long time, the old man leaned on his crutches and looked back at him slowly, and asked a little suspiciously: "Are you in a bad mood?"

The voice is old and rough, and the throat seems to have been damaged.

Fang Yao, who raised his eyes from his thoughts, met his grandfather's slightly worried gaze, paused, and shook his head slowly: "No."

He learned the skill of self-digesting emotions when his parents died, and now he and his grandfather are the only ones left in the family. He can't bring these bad emotions to this old man anymore.

If he also leaves, then he is really unaccompanied.

Holding the shower head, the old man looked at him for a long time with slightly cloudy eyes, then looked around the courtyard calmly, and said in a low voice: "If you feel uncomfortable, I will ask them to evacuate for a few minutes. sky."

Hearing this, Fang Yao's heart skipped a beat, and the answer that almost blurted out was quickly swallowed by him.

He knew very well how important these shady people and things were to his grandfather.

The tragedy of his parents' death was shocking. Even though he was only six or seven years old at that time, the bright red memories still filled his mind.

When I asked him to dream back at midnight, he was so painful that he couldn't breathe.

"I'm not uncomfortable." The topic was lightly dismissed, he threw his schoolbag on the bench not far away, and then took the shower from his grandfather: "Let me help you."

The old man looked at the plants that were almost watered, thought for a while, and still didn't stop his grandson's sudden behavior of respecting the elderly.

——It’s a big deal, just water him to death and replant it.

It's just a waste of time.

The only thing he has now is time.

The boy's shoulders may not be broad and strong enough, even a little thin, but his back is still upright, like a high-spirited little white birch.

It turned out that at some point, the little doll who was babbling in his arms had grown into a handsome young man.

Would his daughter be proud of it if he was still alive?

Thinking of this, the old man's eyes gradually became a bit painful.

The painful past will not be forgotten with the passage of time, it will only be remembered on an ordinary day, and then a knife will be stabbed at the most vulnerable part of the heart.