Oh no, my deskmate is a yandere!

The boy should be more confident to help his father overcome his inferiority complex and timidity.

The girl should be happier and shed her mother's tragedy and pain.

Heading towards a bright future.

In the next decade or so, I hope to find my own meaning.

Ha ha.

Sometimes, even he looks down on himself.

Excessive empathy will always harm you.

Hesitant and timid, always considering the consequences and fearing punishment.

And a bit selfish.

They can forgive anyone.

Just ...

I can't let myself off the hook.

I'd rather be trapped in painful memories, endlessly relived, crushed into dust.

Those who cause suffering can continue to live.

They might even abandon their violent past and embrace a new life.

People who are wounded often spend their lives living with trauma.

They never seem to welcome a new life.

The scar will be etched deep into the most sensitive part of the heart.

Whenever I hear familiar words or see familiar scenes.

It will tear again.

To relive that painful period.

Even if the former abuser has moved on.

But the harm is real, the pain is real.

The criminals who caused suffering may forget.

But it is always the person who is hurt who suffers the most.

Lay down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot.

What an ironic statement.

All that is needed is to stop the violence, and the past crimes can be wiped clean.

Those who bully others will be praised if they stop mocking and beating them.

A murderer can wipe the slate clean by simply putting his sword back in its sheath.

If a person who commits adultery ceases to harm women, he can be exonerated from the crime of rape.

and so.

As long as the violence stops.

Can all evil be erased?

and so.

As long as the bullying stops.

Will the victims then forget their pain?

Will they just pretend nothing happened and continue living their lives as if nothing did?

How ridiculous.

The pain that has been inflicted will never go away.

The pain will not be transferred.

Pain only accumulates.

One person suffers pain and then inflicts that pain on another person.

Therefore, it can be concluded.

This world is full of suffering.

Because the pain keeps increasing, while letting go is rarely seen.

This is a world of painful entropy increase.

They vent the harm they have suffered on another person through violence.

From victim, he transformed into a new perpetrator.

To create new suffering.

How many times will this cycle of reincarnation repeat itself?

Perhaps the increase in suffering is never reversible.

The idea of ​​making pain disappear has always been a false proposition.

but……

If possible.

Yang An hopes that these two children will not become the next painful successors.

Huai Jin, Huai Yu.

A broken life, a broken world.

A person who is dressed in rags.

He hoped that these two children could become jade.

Bright and clear, not necessarily forever innocent, but forever happy.

"Hmm...you do have a knack for naming things."

Jiang Nianxi released her daughter's little hand and smiled gently.

Maybe.

Yang An lowered his eyes and subconsciously gave a very faint smile.

He turned his gaze back to the woman opposite him.

The window was open, and soft sunlight streamed onto half of the woman's body.

The woman had her hands behind her back and tilted her head slightly.

A halo of light appeared at the edges.

There are also countless tiny particles that float in the air as light passes through them.

This is a gift from the Tyndall effect.

The tenderness became a scene, forever frozen in this moment.

Since the pain will not disappear.

Let the suffering stop here.

The score between him and Jiang Nianxi can only be settled by the two of them.

Ok?

"Huaijin..."

As he drifted off into a daze, Jiang Nianxi bent down again and began to play with the little one in the cradle.

"Huaijin...your name is Huaijin?"

She poked the little guy's cheek, and a mischievous thought suddenly popped into her head.

He lowered his body even further.

She picked up a stray strand of hair and gently brushed it under the little one's toes.

"Waaah...waaah."

The little guy, who had been lying quietly, suddenly kicked his legs in protest.

However, Jiang Nianxi was intrigued and enjoyed teasing the little guy.

The more she kicked, the more she scratched.

In the end, even the most good-tempered little one would burst into tears.

"Wah... Waaah..."

I don't know why.

Seeing the little guy cry, Jiang Nianxi felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

Ok……

After teasing Yang An, they teased Yang An's son.

Haha.

It's fun.

Their attention shifted to another little one.

"Then... Huaiyu?"

"Eeya."

The little guy didn't understand the meaning of those two words.

But she could vaguely sense that her mother might be...

Calling out to oneself.

So, relying on the instinct etched into her genes, she looked at Jiang Nianxi and then laughed as she randomly grabbed at the air.

It's like using this as a response to her mother.

Sure enough, daughters are much more obedient than sons.

Jiang Nianxi chuckled and picked up her daughter, who was still scratching around.

"Eeya..."

Gently shake it, and those bright, big eyes really do seem to have inherited my genes; they've been exactly the same since I was little.

Ok?

As she looked at it, she suddenly froze.

here……

He gently stroked the corner of the little guy's eye.

Although it has been less than half a year.

But her eyelashes are very beautiful, long and curved.

Like a tiny brush.

There is a noticeable small black dot at the outer corner of the eye.

That's a mole.

She subconsciously touched her face again.

A slight protrusion in almost the same position.

That's amazing...

Are moles hereditary?

Almost exactly the same.

Or is it that she gave birth to a miniature version of herself?

That's interesting.

"Huaiyu?"

"ah……"

"Hehe, little Huaiyu?"

"Ooh...ah..."

The two, one big and one small, were having a great time playing around.

Yang An silently took in this scene.

If you forget those bad experiences.

This scene, so warm and cozy, is truly wonderful.

……

That night.

Having just put the two little ones to sleep, Yang An yawned and dragged his tired body into the bedroom.

The lights in the bedroom were off.

The curtains remained tightly closed.

This is a habit that Jiang Nianxi has always kept.

For Yang An, darkness symbolized fear and despair.

But for Jiang Nianxi, it was quite the opposite.

The darker it is, the better you can hide yourself.

On the contrary, it means sufficient safety.

No one will see it.

In this dark little world, there is only myself and the one I love.

"Asleep?"

Jiang Nianxi was wearing rather loose pajamas, with the collar half-open, revealing her smooth, fair shoulders.

She was leaning against the bed, her hair disheveled, typing on her phone.

Upon hearing this, Yang An remained silent and sat quietly by the bed.

"..."

The woman stopped what she was doing and turned her head to look at her.

Still silent.

She couldn't help but smile.

"It's good that you're asleep... I still need to write for a while, about an hour."

After saying that, he continued to tap on the screen.

Needless to say, Yang An knew that Jiang Nianxi was definitely writing her novel again.