Zhang Chunxue said expressionlessly: "In the morgue, go by yourself..."
"Oh right!" She called out to Meng Wanshu again, "You're his wife, so do you want to claim the body?"
Meng Wanshu's tone became agitated again: "Are you kidding me! How could I possibly claim the body? What would I do with it? This bastard, I wish I could chop him into pieces!"
She was telling the truth. Zhong Chengren stole all her money and exchanged it for her gold bracelet. She also lost her job because of him indirectly. She hated Zhong Chengren to death.
Zhang Chunxue nodded slightly: "Okay, since you don't want it, then I will send someone to take his body back to Zhongjia Village for burial tomorrow."
Meng Wanshu was still very excited: "A beast like him should be left to die in the wilderness! Be eaten by wild dogs! Be eaten by birds..."
Her hysterical curses echoed in the night wind, and her eyes were almost distorted.
Zhang Chunxue looked at her quietly until her voice became hoarse, then she slowly spoke: "So, do you still want to go see him?"
Meng Wanshu's cursing stopped abruptly.
She looked at Zhang Chunxue angrily, turned around and walked into the hospital.
After asking for the direction to the morgue, Meng Wanshu walked towards it.
She staggered, but stopped abruptly at the door of the morgue, gripping the door frame tightly with her hands, her knuckles turning white.
The cold wind blew in from the crack in the door, making her hair messy, and her trembling hands ultimately failed to push open the iron door.
After a moment, she suddenly squatted down, holding her head and sobbing softly, like a wounded and lonely animal.
There was no mourning in the crying, only despair and unwillingness after being repeatedly crushed by fate.
"Zhong Chengren, you bastard! How could you do this to me! How could you do this to me!"
She was crying and cursing at the door of the morgue.
The young man in her memory who appeared in front of her hanging upside down from the tree and scared her was now lying in the morgue just across the door.
But Meng Wanshu didn't have the courage to open the door. She was afraid that once she saw his cold, pale face, she would forget her hatred and only feel pain.
"You bastard! I'm already pregnant with your child!"
"You're dead! What should I do?"
"What should I do?"
Her fingers slowly loosened the iron door, and her nails left a few shallow marks on the frame, just like all the thoughts she had engraved on him, which were ultimately in vain.
She burst into tears.
After an unknown amount of time, she slowly stood up and whispered softly into the darkness: "Zhong Chengren, in the next life... in the next life, let's not meet again."
She turned and disappeared at the end of the dark corridor.
As the night deepened, the lights in the hospital corridor flickered, causing the shadows on the wall to sway like ghosts.
In the morgue, Zhong Chengren was lying on a cold iron bed, his face had turned blue, and one arm was hanging over the edge of the bed.
Outside the window, the leaves of the sycamore tree rustled, as if someone was whispering.
The sound of footsteps faded away from the end of the corridor and was finally swallowed up by silence.
The iron door that has never been opened stands quietly in the cold night, as if sealing a past that can never be retrieved.
Meng Wanshu did not leave the hospital, she went to the gynecology department instead.
"Hello, comrade..."
"I want an abortion."
After Song Xingzhi and his group left the hospital, they first sent Zhang Chunxue and Zhou Mingli home.
Song Yanshen did not go to the hospital, but learned to write at home.
Zhang Chunxue also took several factors into consideration at the time. First, the tricycle was full of people; second, when the police arrived, they said that Zhong Chengren's condition was very serious, so Zhang Chunxue did not let Song Xingzhi go.
After all, Song Yanshen and Zhong Chengren had nothing but hatred for each other, so there was no need for him to go to the hospital and wait.
Song Yanshen sat at the table, writing the word "Mom" stroke by stroke. This was what Zhong Xiaoxiao had just taught him this morning.
He spent an entire afternoon and night writing before he could barely finish writing these words.
His mother had promised him that he should learn to speak well and would send him to school once he could speak fluently.
Just then, he heard the sound of a door opening outside.
Song Yanshen immediately put down the pen in his hand and skipped out of the room.
Sure enough, it was my mother and elder sister who came back.
"How...how?" Song Yanshen spoke with some difficulty.
Zhang Chunxue touched his head and said, "Yes, he was seriously injured and died from severe inflammation."
Song Yanshen's eyes widened a little, and he couldn't help but reach out and hold Zhang Chunxue's hand: "Mom... don't... be sad."
Zhang Chunxue smiled: "Don't worry, Xiao Shen, I'm not sad at all."
"When Zhong Chengyi died, I could still shed a few tears for him. But when Zhong Chengren died, I can only say that he died a good death!"
Seeing that Zhang Chunxue really didn't seem overly sad, Song Yanshen finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhang Chunxue seemed relieved. "Zhong Chengren is dead. After his funeral, we can resume our business."
Song Yanshen nodded, grasped the corner of Zhang Chunxue's clothes, and his eyes fell on her tired but relaxed brows.
"It will be...better...in the future." He said vaguely.
Zhang Chunxue smiled brightly: "Yes, it will be better in the future!"
When Song Xingzhi arrived at Zhong Aiguo's house, Zhong Aiguo and the others were already ready to lie down.
When Zhong Aiguo heard Song Xingzhi's voice, his heart skipped a beat.
It's already this late, and Song Xingzhi still comes to find him. Could something have happened?
He quickly got up and opened the door, his expression slightly changed: "It's so late, what happened?"
Song Xingzhi looked solemn and whispered, "Zhong Chengren is dead."
Zhong Aiguo's whole body trembled, and his hand holding the door frame suddenly tightened.
The dim light in the room made his face look pale. "Dead...how did he die?"
He was still a little bit incredible.
Zhong Chengren died just like that?
He has been worried these past two days, fearing that Zhong Chengren would run back to Zhongjia Village.
Such a vicious murderer, who knows what he will do.
But now... he's dead?
"Sister Chunxue stabbed him in the back, and the wound was deep. He didn't dare go to the hospital, so... it became severely infected," Song Xingzhi's voice deepened. "By the time the police found him, he was nearly dead. Hours of surgery couldn't save him."
Zhong Aiguo was silent for a long time before he slowly exhaled: "This is God's will."
He couldn't help but ask again, "Is Haruyuki... is she okay?"
Song Xingzhi shook his head. "She no longer has any feelings for Zhong Chengren! I'm just letting you know that not only does the mourning shed need to be rebuilt, but tomorrow we're also going to have the Zhong family in the village find a few people to go to the county and bring Zhong Chengren's body back."
Zhong Aiguo opened his mouth, but finally sighed: "Death is like the extinguishing of a light, and what needs to be done must be done! He is still a member of our Zhong family after all, and he really needs to be buried in peace."
But Zhong Aiguo also felt bad when he said this: "Guosheng only had three sons... now two are gone... ah!"
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