Chapter 232: Meet Again
The sun is shining brightly.
The brilliant sunlight and the blood color seemed to be interwoven into a bright oil painting.
She just lay there quietly, her expression extremely peaceful, her eyes closed, and she looked like she was asleep.
Shen Zai stopped where he was, staring at that place with his dark eyes, motionless and fixed. His eyes slowly became doubtful, as if he didn't recognize the person lying on the ground.
Or rather, he was unwilling to believe it.
There were screams all around, sirens, and the sound of an ambulance coming from afar.
Constant echo.
Very harsh.
He walked over step by step, and his steps seemed to be very heavy, so heavy that he could hardly lift his feet.
He also didn't know why this step was so far away.
He felt like it was a nightmare, a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
Shen Zai slowly approached the place where she was lying. He squatted down and reached out to touch her face. It was still warm and soft, as if she was still very alive.
"Mom."
A low sound.
It seems like this could wake people up.
He slowly picked her up, and her soft limbs slowly fell down like the falling wings of a butterfly. He slowly tightened his arms, and he always held his mother like this after he grew up.
Comfort her.
Beg her.
Want her love.
Want her to be happy.
In fact, it is difficult.
He, like her father, was a vine entangled in her that could never be torn off or cleared away.
It just keeps entwining and tightening.
"Mom."
Although his Chinese has become much more fluent over the years, he still subconsciously uses these more familiar English words.
He tried to wake her up, but to no avail.
It seems to be of no use at all.
She was still lying there so quietly, as if she would never wake up again.
Shen Zai's palms were stained with bright red blood, and the blood kept flowing down, and his palms were full of blood.
My heart aches so much that it's numb.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that he couldn't say anything.
My throat seems to be blocked.
It was as if someone had forcibly cut off his vocal cords and he had lost the ability to speak.
When the tears fell without warning, they seemed to have no temperature, just cold.
His world was desolate and dead.
*
The boy slowly came back to his senses from his memories.
The police officer in front of him was still staring at him, and his curious, scrutinizing eyes made him feel a little uncomfortable.
But he seemed to have gotten used to it and did not show any irritability or dissatisfaction.
Instead, he asked very smartly.
"Is my mother here?"
A bit of a stiff Chinese accent.
No wonder people suspect he's a spy.
The police are really weird, how can they be so stubborn?
"How old is your mother?"
The boy thought about it and shook his head: "I don't know."
He knew very well that his mother, who had just graduated from college, would not have a child as old as him.
He just didn't want to tell a lie or make it up.
He is stubborn and self-centered.
Even after returning to this world with my mother, I still can't change my stubborn nature.
He will always be his mother's child.
He was her favorite child.
The most precious, the most unique, the one who most exclusively possesses her mother's love.
The policeman pursed his lips and said, "Okay, I'll take you out. When you get home, don't make a fuss at home. Got it?"
The boy nodded: "Yeah."
Walk out of the innermost interrogation room where the prisoners are detained.
Open that door.
It's like traveling through time and space.
The boy saw his mother again.
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