Fu Linyuan firmly refused: "No! That's my secret!"
After saying that, her usually calm face quietly turned red.
Realizing this, he hurriedly turned his head away.
Her eyes were unfocused, and even her earlobes were tinged with a hint of pink.
Si Jin retorted: "There are no secrets between lovers."
"That won't do either!" Fu Linyuan, like a dog with its fur standing on end, quickly helped Si Jin to the dining table and brought the food to him.
After watching him finish eating, I carried him back to the bedroom, coaxed him to sleep, and then sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh of relief.
His parents passed away when he was young, and his grandmother supported the Fu family on her own. She was busy with many things and didn't visit him often.
Aside from his diary, he had no other outlet for his feelings.
Those few small diaries recorded too many of his ugly and shameful moments, which he couldn't show to Jinjin.
If Jinjin sees this, she won't like him, right?
Is it really... right to hide secrets from your lover?
Thinking of this, Fu Linyuan turned to look at Si Jin.
My mood is gloomy, as if a heavy stone is pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
He reached out and stroked the boy's handsome face gently.
After a moment, he finally stood up, walked to the edge of the bookshelf, squatted down, and found a small box that was seventy centimeters long.
He unlocked the combination lock, placed the suitcase on the table, and went out.
I was quite sleepy, but now I just want to numb myself with work.
In those books, the CEO would always have conflicts with his young wife and eventually separate because he was hiding something from her.
There was a time when he even got tired of sweet storylines and only loved watching dramas with arguments.
But you only realize how painful it is when it happens to you.
He didn't want to argue with Jinjin over anything.
If Jinjin wants to understand herself, then she should tell him.
Because life is not a book, we don't know if this separation will lead to an eventual reunion.
Fu Linyuan still maintained the habit of steering the wheel with one hand, but his vision became blurry after driving for only a short time.
It didn't rain.
Fu Linyuan rubbed his eyes and realized that he had been crying.
How many years has it been since I last cried?
I can't remember exactly, the last time I cried was probably when my parents passed away...
… …
In the bedroom, Si Jin was not asleep. After Fu Linyuan left, he propped himself up, walked to the table, and opened the box.
There were twenty notebooks neatly arranged inside.
The handwriting in the first notebook was very childish, and the dates were marked on it.
Si Jin roughly calculated that it was twenty years ago.
Did he start writing these things when he was four years old?
Turn to the first page.
September 15th, light rain
When I got home from school today, I called my parents as usual, but no one answered after I called 34 times.
Grandma told me that Mom and Dad were busy and that I shouldn't bother them.
Okay, they're always busy, I know that.
But when I watch TV at night, why doesn't my nanny, Ayi, put on the cartoons I like?
Instead, pointing to the news, he said: "Your grandma cheated on you. Your parents' car exploded, and they both died. They'll never come back to see you again."
I do not understand.
Why did the car still explode even though it was raining today?
This page is very wrinkled, and the yellowed paper has crooked handwriting. There are many unfamiliar characters, so I just used pinyin instead.
Many watermarks remain on it; by tracing them with divine power, one can see the scene of four-year-old Xiao Naiyuan writing.
Si Jin's heart skipped a beat, as if something had clenched it tightly, and her eyes reddened.
He continued flipping through the pages—
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