That image of Wanqiu still seems to linger in my mind.
It's like... a dirty pane of glass, it's an eyesore.
"Why?" Chu Zhang asked.
Why?
Wanqiu couldn't say it.
"Tell me? What's wrong with it?" Chu Zhang smiled, his tone relaxed. He was clearly urging Wan Qiu to express his thoughts, but he wasn't forcing him.
Wanqiu went to see Chu Zhang, but he knew that he could not get an answer from Chu Zhang.
What's wrong with it?
There seems to be too much to say.
Wanqiu always felt that in his 'beautiful' home, he was the only ugly one.
When Chu Zhang stood before Wan Qiu, Wan Qiu lowered her head, looking like a rabbit with drooping ears, as if she were a sad dumpling.
However, Chu Zhang also knew that Wan Qiu's lack of confidence stemmed from within.
Chu Zhang was very familiar with that look.
Just like I used to be.
"Tell me, what's wrong with our third brother?" Chu Zhang stopped staring at Wan Qiu, as if he wanted to give Wan Qiu enough space to express his thoughts.
He was operating something on his phone, his beautiful fingertips dancing across the screen, as if even his fingers were performing a beautiful dance.
"...Like withered grass." Wan Qiu's memories of her own ugly features surfaced in her mind: "Very dark, dry, yellow, big knees, big head...with scars..."
Wan Qiu pointed out many things he considered disharmonious.
And the opinions of some people he had met about his appearance.
Wanqiu's memory is confused, but not bad.
Wan Qiu painstakingly selected the malicious fragments of memory and then expressed them in the simplest language.
But the real memories brought by these fragments are like rising darkness, devouring the little bit of self-confidence that Wanqiu has managed to build up.
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