paranoia

Although the scenic development area where the cemetery is located requires an appointment to go, but very few people actually make a detour to the cemetery.

When the two arrived by car, the uncle in the security booth just stood up and stretched his stiff bones.

Seeing someone coming early in the morning, the uncle warmly greeted them to go over for a sip of stomach warming tea, laughed heartily, and said, "Young man, it's quite early, isn't it?"

Song Wanzhou got out of the car first, went to do the registration, wrote down his and Song Jing's names in the record book, hummed lightly, and replied softly, "If you come early, you can stay longer."

Uncle is a chatterbox, working in this kind of place, almost no one talks much during the day, and even less live people communicate with him at night, he can hold back nonsense all day long.

No, after holding back for a long time, I finally met someone who was willing to talk to him, so I couldn't help but want to chat more.

For a while, I asked Song Wanzhou who to visit, and for a while, I asked him why he wore so little in winter.

Song Wanzhou always had a warm smile on the corner of his mouth, which made people feel warm when they looked at it, warmer than the little sun in winter.

The uncle saw Song Wanzhou's bookish and angry face, his appearance was gentle, he looked like he couldn't stand the wind and rain, and he was wearing thin clothes, so he couldn't help but talk a lot, "Young man, the weather forecast said that there has been a strong wind in Hangzhou recently. It's very cold, or You should wear more clothes, don't care if it looks good or not, as long as it is warm. Especially in this cemetery, just standing at the door feels cold to the bones. You have a small body, so beware of catching a cold."

Song Wanzhou didn't interrupt the uncle's rambling, but stood by the pavilion and listened silently.In fact, he quite likes to listen to other people's chatter, and has a feeling of being missed. "Uncle, it's okay, I drove here, and the car is warm." The person who was coming and going took a look, then looked away, took off his gloves and put them in his pockets, put his hands to his mouth, and let out a sigh of relief.

The uncle still wanted to continue talking, but Song Jing, who was a step behind, came over with his things, interrupted their chat, and shouted: "Brother, are you registered?"

"Well," Song Wanzhou stood at the door, watching Song Jing walking towards him from a distance, "Have you got all your things?"

Song Jing nodded and put the flowers into Song Wanzhou's arms, while he held Song Wanzhou's slightly warm hand with free hands, "Why did you forget to bring gloves again?"

"Forgot exactly." A heart-warming heat came from the palm of his hand, Song Wanzhou turned his head to look at Song Jing's slightly furrowed eyebrows, and smiled unconsciously, "Xiaojing's hands are too hot, here's what Bing Yibing."

After the two of them went in, the uncle drank the remaining tea in the cup while it was hot, and said secretly, "No wonder you wear so little clothes."

The stone and brick path in the cemetery was rebuilt at some point, and the path for visitors has become much wider.

The crisp sound of the shiny leather shoes stepping on the granite, combined with the muffled sound of the Martin boots, did not seem so monotonous.

The person on the tombstone still looked young in his memory. Song Wanzhou knelt down and gently placed fresh lilies with dew on his mother’s tombstone, sunflowers on his father’s tombstone, and a bowl in front of his grandmother. Osmanthus cake that the elderly like to eat.

Taking out a clean towel to wipe the dust along the outline of the tombstone, Song Wanzhou's eyes were a little dry from the cold wind, and said in a hoarse voice, "Dad, Mom, Grandma, I'm here to see you."

He kept track of the recent situation, and even to the dead, he would say nice words, report good news but not bad news.

And Song Jing stood behind him, quietly looking at Song Wanzhou who was holding back tears and still talking with a smile.

When Song Wanzhou was not around, he also stood like this, imagining his brother whispering in front of the tombstone.

It's great that my brother is back.

"Xiao Jing." Song Wanzhou turned his head and waved to Song Jing.

Song Jing walked up to him, squatted down, and helped Song Wanzhou's wet hair, "Brother."

Song Wanzhou took a deep breath, as if making up his mind, inserted his fingers into Song Jing's, clasped his fingers tightly together, pressed his sweaty palms tightly together, and said solemnly: "Song Jing is my boyfriend." , we will live together and take care of each other in the future."

Song Jing's heart was extremely shaken, his eyes met the serious face, his breathing stopped suddenly, and he even trembled slightly with excitement.

He put Song Wanzhou's hand on his heart, choked for a few times, and kept taking deep breaths. Finally, under Song Wanzhou's affirming eyes, he said firmly: "I will take care of my brother for the rest of my life."

Listening to Song Jing's simple promise, Song Wanzhou's heart warmed, "Then I will trouble you."

After getting up, Song Wanzhou realized that the tribute Song Jing had prepared was for four people. Looking at the untouched one, he asked suspiciously, "Did you buy too much?"

Song Jing looked at Song Wanzhou, and said in a deep voice, "Grandma is here too, and grandma wants to see brother too."

After listening to Song Jing's explanation, Song Wanzhou's figure was a little shaken, and his eyes were covered with moisture, "Where is grandma?"

After the grandmother who raised him passed away, Song Wanzhou never paid homage to him.Song Wanzhou felt ashamed, and even his steps became heavy.

He wanted to go and have a look, but he didn't dare to go, he hadn't figured out how to speak, and whether grandma would forgive him.

Song Wanzhou lowered his eyes, looked down and looked down, and lowered his head. His nose was sore. Before he saw him, tears were already streaming down his face.

He is sorry for grandma.

"Brother." Song Jing stopped, picked up Song Wanzhou's wet face, brushed back the hair that blocked his view, and said distressedly, "It's not your fault, no one blames you, brother don't cry, okay? "

Song Wanzhou bit her lower lip tightly, closed her eyes, couldn't stop the tears even if she looked up, her voice trembled slightly, "Xiaojing..."

Song Jing pulled the emotionally broken Song Wanzhou into his arms, "Brother, I'm here."

Song Jing blamed himself a little, everything was arranged by him, he could have told Song Wanzhou in advance and asked his wishes.

But he didn't regret it, he wanted to take Song Wanzhou home.

Song Wanzhou couldn't stop his tears no matter what, so he went to Tan Jing's tombstone sobbing.

"grandmother..."

Just yelling, Song Wanzhou's whole body was exhausted, and he couldn't say a single word.

In the photo, Tan Jing smiled kindly, just like when she was a child, as if she was about to call out Song Wanzhou's name the next moment.

"Yangyang..."

Song Wanzhou's back stiffened.

How long has it been since he heard someone call him by his nickname?

Turning around in disbelief, it was none other than the Song couple whom Song Wanzhou wanted to see but dared not meet.

He subconsciously wanted to let go of the hand he held with Song Jing, but Song Jing held on tightly, his eyes were firm, "Brother, don't let me go."

Hot tears swirled in the red eye sockets, and in the blink of an eye, they poured out like a flood.

Song Wanzhou dared not agree and wanted to hide.

Guan Zhiwen burst into tears the moment he saw Song Wanzhou. If Song Kuanyu hadn't comforted her, he would have lost control of his emotions.

She took steps, as if she met him for the first time in the orphanage, approaching the fragile Song Wanzhou cautiously, looking at the face that was almost the same as in memory, she couldn't help it anymore, and let Song Kuanyu relax hand.

But when she walked in front of Song Wanzhou, she seemed a little restrained, and she didn't know if she wanted to hug Song Wanzhou or touch him.

Not only was the movement stiff, but even the opening remarks that had been prepared a long time ago turned into a dry sentence: "Yangyang, mom is here to pick you up."