Chapter 367 Extra 6 Jiang Chaosong Qingying

In City A, the early summer air has been tinged with a little warmth. The trumpet creepers that have been dormant for a year are blooming again on branches where no one can see them. The orange-red color covers the bluestone tiles.

A few students were playing and walking by, startling a trumpet creeper and dropping it onto the sleeping tabby cat.

"Meow!" The tabby cat was so scared that it ran several meters away and found a good place to continue sleeping.

With a creak, the door of the antique shop behind me opened at this moment. The morning sun shone into the house, illuminating the half-old shop.

Jiang Chao stood at the door, staring at the trumpet creeper not far away for a long time, and then he looked away after a while, lowering his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.

This is the third month since he was released from prison, and more than two years have passed since the accident.

On the first day after being released from prison, Jiang Chao did nothing. He used the last bit of money he had to buy a train ticket to a small town in the west.

When Jiang Chao first arrived at the western town, he felt that he had come to the wrong place. It was different from what he remembered. There were wide asphalt roads and renovated buildings. There were many workers working on the mountain that had buried many lives.

Everything was thriving, everything was peaceful, as if it was born this way. No one remembered the accident that caused him to lose everything.

It turns out that...he is the only one who remembers it.

Jiang Chao sneered and took out a few white chrysanthemums from his pocket. The edges of the chrysanthemums were wilted due to the long journey, and they looked even more bleak when blown by the wind.

White chrysanthemums are very pure and beautiful, but their meaning is always shrouded in mystery. Death and memorial services make them more suitable for occasions such as cemeteries.

Jiang Chao didn't know why he bought these white chrysanthemums. Maybe it was just to disgust someone.

If that person knew that he had the white chrysanthemums, he would be so angry that he would probably glare at him and slap him in the face. Jiang Chao chuckled and felt that he was such a despicable person.

The falling pebbles made the white chrysanthemums shake. Jiang Chao used soil to push the flowers tighter, but it was not enough, so he picked up a wooden stick and carved a name in front of the flower - Jiang Qiao.

Everything was done. Jiang Chao looked at his "masterpiece" with unprecedented satisfaction in his eyes.

Well, Jiang Qiao died. She didn’t disappear, nor did she return to her original world. She just died. That’s it.

Died in City A, buried in City A, still breathing the same air, no one can get Jiang Qiao anymore,

Jiang Chao thought, this is great, Jiang Qiao is dead, this is great, he was so stupid and foolish, he should have died long ago.

Jiang Chao wanted to leave, but his feet seemed to be rooted and he couldn't move an inch. He stared at the name intently, his eyes gradually filled with red bloodshot. He didn't know how much time had passed. He slowly bent over and took deep breaths in an extremely painful manner.

It seemed like if he didn't breathe, he would die.

If you don't repent and do all kinds of evil things, you will go to hell after you die. Jiang Chao laughed softly, but it was uglier than crying.

As the sun rose and the sky set, the workers in the mine went off work one after another. A gust of wind blew by, and the unique smell of explosives could be faintly smelled in the air. Jiang Chao squatted down numbly and carved two more words next to the words "Jiang Qiao".

A few white chrysanthemums stand out among the gray rocks. There are a few words carved in the uneven surface in front of them. From a distance, it looks a bit strange, as if... the mountain is a huge grave mound.

He won't come back, he buried himself here, with the same idiot.

Jiang Chao resumed running the antique shop his mother had left him. He followed the routine every day and was able to support his life.

He closed the shop a little late that day. When he saw a person standing under the trumpet creeper trellis opposite, Jiang Chao's pupils shrank and he almost forgot to breathe.

When the others turned around and saw who it was, Jiang Chao was somewhat stunned, and at the same time, he felt a huge sense of loss.

"I thought you would die in prison." Song Qingying tilted her head, smiled and said the most familiar name: "Brother Jiang."

"…………I'm sorry to disappoint you." Jiang Chao was not angry, and there was no expression on his face.

"Would you like me to come in and sit down?"

"random."

Song Qingying walked in and looked around the small antique shop slowly. She looked very slowly.

The antique shop was no different from before. The faint familiar sandalwood scent reminded Song Qingying of a long time ago, when she was in elementary and middle school. Apart from her home and school, this was the place she visited most often.

"Do you remember where we first met?"

Jiang Chao didn't say anything, Song Qingying said to herself: "It's in this antique shop."

"When you first came here, the kids in the alley said there was a really good-looking guy here, so I followed the crowd to see you. You were wearing a white sweater and always had a smile on your face. You were different from everyone else here."

Song Qingying's eyes were filled with a smile, as if she thought of the scene at that time. The gap between the past and the reality was too big for her to accept, so she stopped smiling, looked up at the man with a slightly unfamiliar face, and asked doubtfully:

"Jiang Chao, when did you change?"

"What about you?" Jiang Chao also looked at her: "When did you change?"

“………………”

"I don't know." Song Qingying said.

"I don't know either." Jiang Chao said.

The two stood opposite each other, and Song Qingying asked him: "If there was no so-called mission, would you still hurt me?"

Jiang Chao shook his head. Song Qingying held her breath, and her fingers hanging at her side kept clenching. She heard Jiang Chao's voice, slow and cruel: "I don't know."

“……………………”

Song Qingying closed her eyes, as if finally accepting the reality, and said: "You really are..."

I don't even want to lie to her.

Her heart felt like it was stabbed by someone, and the blood clots that had accumulated over the years all flowed out. It was so painful yet so refreshing. Song Qingying actually smiled. She was not feeling well, and Jiang Chao should not expect to live so easily.

"Have you found Jiang Qiao?" She always knew where to stab the knife to hurt the most.

Jiang Chao paused for a moment while wiping the antiques. This pause seemed to be just an illusion of Song Qingying. He asked, "What Jiang Qiao?"

"That's my imagination." Jiang Chao said.

The first time he went to see Song Qingying, he asked her if she still remembered Jiang Qiao, and Song Qingying's answer was "It's all your imagination."

Two years later, Jiang Chao accepted this answer, but Song Qingying couldn't accept it: "Then why did you keep her things?!"

The broken bracelet was neatly placed in a transparent glass cover with a key on the outside. Song Qingying had seen the complete bracelet and it had been worn on Jiang Qiao's wrist.

Jiang Chao looked in the direction where her finger was pointing, and could vaguely see the broken bracelet. This was what he found at the foot of the mountain that year, but he only found a few pieces.

Song Qingying was still questioning in her ear. When she said enough, Jiang Chao looked at her with a pair of calm eyes: "I'm going to close the door."

"…………Jiang Chao," Song Qingying was silent for a long time, her body trembling slightly: "Why?"

Why? These three words were asked without a beginning or an end. Even Song Qingying didn't know what answer she wanted to hear from Jiang Chao.

I don’t know why I am questioning this, and I don’t know where the resentment, unwillingness and sadness in my heart come from.

After a long while, she turned around, her petite body looking even thinner in the darkness: "...Jiang Chao, I don't want to see you again."

"good."

Song Qingying's figure was getting farther and farther away, and gradually disappeared. Jiang Chao withdrew his gaze.

There is no need to see anyone again. Life is long, just live your own life.

After much thought, I still want to write a sequel about these two people. In fact, I don’t think Jiang Chao is a bad person, and I don’t think Song Qingying is bad, because everyone is different and looks at things from different perspectives.

All in all, if you can live well, then live well, hahaha, nonsense literature