I sell Coke in the doomsday

"I can't remember what happened next, but I remember that I seemed to hear you crying."

"And then, I never saw you again."

"I'm not angry, and now the scar on my forehead is gone."

"So, mom, please come back."

"I miss you so much, and I miss the little cake you made for me."

"My aunt told me, Mom, you are just lost. When you find the way, you will be home."

"I asked my aunt how to help you remember the way home."

"She said that as long as I can become famous in the future, many, many people will know my name and remember my name."

"Every time someone says my name, you can hear it once. When you hear it more often, you will remember the way home."

“It seems like a difficult thing to do, but I will try my best.”

"I will let many people know my name and keep repeating my name."

"When that time comes, will you come back, Mom?"

When I looked down again, I saw Qu Yunliu's name. I held the piece of letter paper, speechless for a moment.

A long time ago, someone once told me that everyone has his or her own reasons for becoming who he or she is. These reasons may be great and heartwarming, or they may be funny and ridiculous.

I couldn't believe that the reason why Qu Yunliu cared so much about his reputation was actually because of this reason.

Looking at Qu Yunliu's appearance at the Shield Stronghold, the lonely child ultimately failed to wait for his mother.

But why did this letter appear here? A trace of doubt flashed through my mind, and I looked up at the bones in front of me.

The dead cannot speak, but they can leave some traces.

The skeleton in front of us is obviously that of an adult, not a child. So is there any connection between him/her and this letter?

Thinking of this, I lifted up all the bedding on the floor, but found nothing. There was nothing on the bare floor.

It seems that we will return empty-handed.

I stood up in disappointment, but when I turned around, I accidentally touched the skeleton, and the skeleton immediately fell into the dust.

"Ah...sorry."

I apologized subconsciously, but as I was speaking, I finally noticed that the skeleton was leaning against a cabinet.

Is there...something in the cupboard?

Unable to suppress my curiosity, I took a step forward, blew away the dust on the cabinet, and then gently opened it.

The next moment, I was buried in a mountain of envelopes, dust filled the air, and a rotten smell lingered in my nose.

“Cough…cough.”

I coughed a few times due to the dust, frowned, and picked up a letter.

Are these the letters Qu Yunliu wrote to his mother? He is really persistent.

As I was thinking about this, I opened the letter. However, what caught my eye was not the childish handwriting. My pupils shrank slightly and I looked at it carefully.

This letter was a reply from his mother, but it was not sent.

I frowned and tried to read the words on the letter clearly, but the content of the letter left me speechless.

"Silly boy, I'm fine."

After such a simple sentence, the handwriting on the remaining piece of letter paper suddenly changed, becoming sloppy, with only three words densely written on it.

"sorry."

Seeing this, I suddenly realized something and hurriedly opened the envelopes.

Every letter, every letter, is like this!

These piles of envelopes are all the ones that Qu Yunliu's mother did not send out, but they are filled with her guilt.

I don't know why she didn't send the letters, but she must have her own reasons and couldn't help herself.

I don’t know what to say about this. Sometimes, there are always some strange reasons that make us confine ourselves. These reasons may be ridiculous to others, but for ourselves, they are an abyss that cannot be crossed.

At the bottom of the envelope, I found a small photo. In the photo, a simply dressed woman was hugging a little boy affectionately.

The boy smiled sweetly, his eyes full of happiness, and so did the woman, her eyes were hazy and full of longing.

I held this small photo in my hand, turned my head and looked at the skeleton lying in the dust, my brows lowered, and I couldn't help but ask the dead person softly.

"You...actually care a lot."

Chapter 139 Time

I put the envelopes back into the cabinet, arranged them neatly, and placed the skeleton back to its original position.

The bones on the ground, the bloody quilt, and the skull hidden in the grass all seemed to prove that the person in front of me did not die of natural causes.

However, I have no interest in being a detective. These days, there are so many people who die in accidents, and there is nothing noteworthy about them.

Moreover, I can say that I gained nothing from this trip. I only saw a not-so-special story. I didn't find any of the TV or textbooks.

If it were the old me, I might feel a little sad and try to do what I can.

But now, I can't waste any more time, for Tongtong and for myself.

I need to hurry up, get all of this done, then cut the Gordian knot, say goodbye to this city once and for all, and fly away with Tongtong.

This sense of urgency comes from everything that happened last night. The warning given to me by another "Tongtong" is like a knife hanging over my head, ready to fall at any time.

I have to be selfish.

After putting everything in the house back to its original state, I took Tongtong back to the pickup truck and continued picking up my trash.

The pickup truck started again, and I turned the steering wheel and drove towards a neighborhood that I was not familiar with. Tongtong was very interested in the children's books I found. She held a book and read it with relish.

Yes, those books are mostly pictures, and it doesn’t matter whether you can read or not.

While driving, I would glance at Tongtong from time to time, and then look away.

I didn't do this on purpose, I just couldn't help but think about what happened last night.

Those zombies controlled by pink flowers, another "Tongtong", and... my weird behavior.

Last night, I told another "Tongtong" my guess, which had no basis and couldn't even convince myself.

But at that time, I believed it so firmly, with a firmness that I couldn't describe.

The really weird thing is that some strange memories led me to such a ridiculous conclusion, but those memories did not seem to belong to me.

In the flashing fragments of memory, I don't remember having ever seen or done those things.

And when I was confronting the other "Tongtong", why did I know that the completeness she was talking about was memory?

Why, I came to this conclusion.

Maybe, I am also incomplete?

This conjecture filled me with fear, a chill crawling in my bones like a worm.

My memory... I remember it very clearly. From the end of the world to the tenth year now, I remember everything I experienced and where I went. I have never forgotten anything.

But why do I feel incomplete? Have my memories and time been stolen or erased by something?

Or maybe, my current memory is also half true and half false, and my memory has been tampered with without my knowledge?

The more I thought about it, the more frightened I felt. I shuddered unconsciously. I couldn't think about it anymore, or I would start to doubt my entire life.

A long time ago, I watched a movie in which the protagonist lived in a city and everyone in the city would fall into a deep sleep at midnight.

And every time this happens, the villain in the movie will come out and change those people's memories and their identities.

The scene I remember most clearly was that a poor couple who were still complaining about their lives during dinner, after their memories were altered at midnight, became upper-class wealthy people, and at the dinner table, they calmly discussed how to exploit the workers.

How credible can a person's memory be?

If the memories of ten or twenty years that you believe to be true were given to you by someone an hour ago, can you discover all this?

So, I dare not think further. I’m afraid that I will start to question my life and everything about myself.

After all, in this doomsday, the only thing I am good at is aimless association.

While I was daydreaming, a fallen road sign on the roadside not far away caught my attention.

"School ahead, please slow down."

When I saw this sign, I was cheered up. It was finally me, so I stepped on the accelerator and sped forward.

Only two hundred meters away, I saw a school. Fortunately, it was a primary school.

Thank God, if this was a high school or middle school, I don’t know how much more running I would have to do.

I parked the pickup truck in front of the school gate, opened the door, and got out. When I looked back, I found that Tongtong did not get out of the car. Instead, she was holding the comic-like children's book and reading it with relish.

Seeing this, I couldn't help but smile. Besides watching TV, Tongtong finally has a second hobby. This should be considered a good thing.

I didn't disturb Tongtong and walked towards the school gate alone. The school gate was also locked. This time I didn't kick the door open, but climbed over it.

The moment I landed, a large group of sparrows suddenly flew up, flying densely towards the west, like a small rain cloud.

My eyes followed the sparrows, and then I couldn't help frowning.

At this time, the sun has already reached the west. Although it has not yet set into the tall buildings in the distance, it will not take long.

I squinted my eyes, looked at the sun, and felt a little strange in my heart.

What time is it now? Is it almost evening?

Now is the transition period from autumn to winter, and the days should be getting shorter and shorter, but I feel that the days now seem too short.

But unfortunately, I don’t have a watch, so I can’t be sure of the current time. Besides, this is just my personal feeling and it doesn’t prove anything. People’s perception of time can easily be wrong.

I didn't continue to think about it, turned around and continued walking towards the teaching building.

The whole school was as desolate and dilapidated as ever, with wild grass breaking through the cracks in the cement and sprouting branches. Large patches of white paint had peeled off the teaching building, and only the word "motto" remained of the school motto hanging on the wall.

Countless cracks spread upwards along the places where the white paint had peeled off.

I walked to the corridor of the school, but found that the corridor was also in a mess. Although there were not many weeds, there were many desks piled up, blocking the corridor.

It can be seen that someone once wanted to use desks to build a wall in the corridor to block the zombies. He should not have seen the horror of the zombie tide. These desks can't stop the zombies at all.

Right now, the scattered desks in the corridor are the best proof.

The retractable gate of the school can't actually stop people at all. For example, adults can easily pass through it, not to mention zombies who will step on their own kind to climb up.

Chapter 140: Don't worry about having no friends on the road ahead

I stepped over the scattered desks on the ground and picked up a broken desk part, a straight metal pipe.

Few men can resist a straight wooden stick or metal pipe.

I picked up the metal pipe casually, blew off the dust on it, and then held the metal pipe and followed my steps, casually knocking on the desk on the ground.

Dong, pa, chaotic notes echoed in the corridor and drifted away.

A moment later, I stepped into a classroom. The moment I pushed the door, a cloud of dust fell. I covered my mouth and nose and stepped in.

Although the desks in the classroom were a little messy, they were not thrown together in a mess. There were still notes on the blackboard at the podium that had not been wiped off in time.

It seemed that the last class ended in a hurry. I wonder if the children said goodbye to their teachers properly.

At that time, they probably didn't think that this would be the last time they saw each other in this life.

The desks were covered with thick dust and scattered with messy textbooks, so much so that one couldn't even see the covers.

I picked up a textbook and casually knocked it on the table, slapping it hard, and a large cloud of dust filled the air.

Then, I opened the textbook, which was a Chinese textbook. I flipped through a few pages at random, but saw graffiti all over the book, such as adding beards and glasses to the characters in the textbook.

"what."

Looking at the graffiti, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. It seems to be something that all children will do, but as they grow older, this cute behavior will slowly disappear.

I leaned over slightly and looked inside the desk. A desk is the only place where good things can be hidden.

But no matter how good something is, what will it look like after ten years?