Early autumn.
The air was damp and chilly, the sun was completely obscured by clouds, the sky was gloomy, and a light drizzle gently pattered on Jiang Cheng's bare wrists, making him feel a bone-chilling cold.
The rain soaked the stone tablet, the water pooling on its pitted top before sliding off the smiling girl's photo and dripping onto the ground.
Beside them were vast expanses of lush green lawns and rows of neat tombstones. The scene was solemn and oppressive; no one spoke, and everyone kept their heads bowed in silence.
Jiang Cheng, dressed in a suit and holding a black umbrella, stood quietly, looking at Zhao Xuerou's tombstone. Around him were grieving classmates and Zhao's mother, who finally couldn't hold back her sobs.
He held the umbrella with his well-defined fingers, his handsome face expressionless, but a chill ran down his spine.
Is it really this cold in early autumn...?
Actually, it's all fake, right?
The scene before my eyes, the illusory death, the girl lying in the cemetery, she is alive and well in the real world.
It's just that what I'm experiencing now is a sad dream.
Jiang Cheng constantly warned himself against his inability to suppress his grief. He forced himself to become hard-hearted, forbidding any thought of turning his lips into a smile, and forbidding himself from grieving over a fabricated death.
A dedicated researcher possesses a complete worldview.
The world should be like this: birth, aging, sickness, and death do not follow any rules except the laws of nature, and one's fate is not predetermined from birth.
If everything is as Laplace's demon says, then what about the Chinese theory of "man can conquer nature" that has been passed down for thousands of years?
Was it wrong for him to work so hard to find ways to advance humanity and make his country strong and prosperous?
Jiang Cheng repeatedly questioned himself.
He took the flower from Chen Yan's hand; it was a pure white chrysanthemum, blooming intensely, with a few raindrops on it—it was beautiful.
Jiang Cheng stepped forward, bowed his head, and placed the flowers in front of Zhao Xuerou's memorial. In the black and white photograph, she smiled, dignified and elegant, remaining in yesterday.
After leaving the cemetery, he folded up his black umbrella, took out a tissue from his pocket, wiped his damp forehead, and got into Gu Qingwan's car, which was waiting outside.
Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket; someone had sent him a message.
Jiang Cheng took out his phone and instructed Gu Qingwan, "Let's walk for a while first."
He opened the car window, letting the rain-drenched air blow in to ease his somewhat depressed mood.
It was a message from Ke Bing.
He suddenly realized that Ke Bing hadn't appeared at Zhao Xuerou's funeral for some reason. Had something happened?
"Jiang Cheng, do you have time? I have something I want to tell you."
"Yes, go ahead and tell me."
The pleasant ringing of the telephone then broke the silence, making quite a commotion in the quiet car.
He pressed the answer button.
Ke Bing's slightly nervous voice came from the other end.
"I'm here at the charming street market on Huanjiang Road. Could you come over here for a moment?"
"Something happened?"
"Hmm... I don't know who else to ask. Maybe you're the only one who can help me with this."
Then she hung up the phone.
Jiang Cheng remained silent for a while. Misfortunes never come singly.
Some things are unavoidable, so just face them.
He told Gu Qingwan to turn around at the next intersection and go to the location sent by Ke Bing in the Fengqing Street Market.
······
A woman stood under the eaves of a supermarket on the street. She had a high ponytail, was very pretty, and was wearing high-heeled sandals. She looked expectantly at the intersection.
Until Jiangcheng's car stopped on the side of the street.
The woman opened the door and got into the car.
As soon as Ke Bing got into the car, she nervously looked at the opposite side of the street, looking somewhat frightened.
She noticed Shang Jiangcheng's questioning gaze and pointed to a spot in the distance.
“Look over there.”
He turned his head and, through the gray car window stained with rain, saw a small child kneeling under the street lamp at the street corner.
It was a girl.
Her cheeks were dirty, like those of a beggar on the street, her face covered in mud. Even as a light rain fell from the sky, the little girl showed no intention of avoiding it.
Her dry, curly hair clung tightly to her scalp, and her wide, tattered sleeves clearly indicated that she had picked up some old clothes from who-knows-where.
Moreover, one of her legs was as thin as a bamboo pole, making her baggy trousers look even more baggy.
Even though the girl was already skin and bones, her legs were so abnormal that they looked like they had shrunk, with only a layer of skin and flesh hanging on the leg bones.
It looks rather frightening.
There was a bowl in front of the girl, containing some loose banknotes. She was lying face down on the ground, oblivious to the mud that had soaked her dirty clothes.
Occasionally, when Jiang Cheng looked up, he was shocked to discover that the reason she was lying on the ground was because the girl couldn't sit up, and a skateboard under her body was the only thing supporting her movement.
His lifeless eyes would glance at everyone who hurried by, their gaze filled with endless sorrow and despair.
Jiang Cheng felt a pang of heartache watching this.
The little beggar looked to be no more than six or seven years old, sallow and emaciated, his skin tinged with the bluish hue of someone near death…
He was about to get out of the car to help the little girl when Ke Bing grabbed his clothes.
"What's wrong?" Jiang Cheng asked.
"Don't go. I've tried before. She only accepts charity. No matter how much you try to help her, she won't accept it."
This chapter is not finished yet. Please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
