Lin Lu: "Okay, we'll go back at 9:30, just be back before then."

It's nine o'clock now, and there's still half an hour.

"Okay, you can call me later."

This family is also rich, and everyone has his or her own mobile phone.

After his son left, Song Chenjiu became even more confused, "What did you ask him to take?"

Why did you hide it from him? Aren't they supposed to be in the same group? When did you get together with that guy?

Lin Lu: “One of his notebooks.”

Song Chen: "Is there anything special about holding a notebook?"

"No, don't ask."

Why can't I ask again?

That's strange.

This way.

Lin Jingbei followed his mother's instructions and returned to his former bedroom. He found the box, but didn't find anything special inside, except for the letter she saw.

Wait, he seems to have discovered it.

It was his previous worries.

My heart was pounding as I carefully picked up the notebook and opened it.

I consciously told him that it must be this, and that his mother must have left something behind, which is why she specifically emphasized this notebook.

I opened the first page and saw his crooked handwriting on it.

Then, here is her proper reply.

It turned out that when he missed his mother, she had been working and busy making a living.

Until now, Lin Jingbei still doesn't quite understand what happened between his parents.

All I know is that my father came to my mother's house, married her, and lived with them.

It’s different from other models.