Chapter 397 Tears in the Small Room (2)
Alone.
She was finally alone.
The whole house was so quiet, without a single sound.
Song Qingqian went home with everyone after the aftershock warning was lifted in the afternoon.
As soon as she came back, she checked everything inside and out.
Everything is fine in their home.
The yard was left tidy and no walls had collapsed.
The water tank and roses in the corner are also in good condition.
The pale pink flowers bloom brilliantly in the sunshine.
It hadn't rained for several days, and the soil in the yard had dried up.
Song Qingqian used the water in the vat to water the flowers, carefully moistening the roots of the roses. The leaves that had originally drooped down, after absorbing the water, unfolded into a emerald green appearance.
Inside the house, everything was normal.
The radio was on the cabinet, covered with a layer of lace fabric, and it didn't fall off and get damaged.
The sewing machine is placed in the corner, and the needle and thread basket is also neatly arranged in a stable position.
The originally clean house was covered with dust because no one had lived there for a few days.
Song Qingqian fetched some water and wiped it back and forth carefully with a rag.
Wipe it till it is spotless.
Restored to its previous state.
The home should be kept clean.
This was the first time that Song Qingqian did so much housework in one go.
But she didn't feel tired at all.
She doesn't have to think about anything while doing housework.
As long as I think about the feeling of home, I will be very happy when He Dong comes back.
besides.
The only place in the house that was damaged in the earthquake was He Donglai's bookshelf.
All the furniture in the house was made piece by piece by piece by He Donglai during his vacation.
As long as it is used by Song Qingqian, the quality is very good.
Only the bookshelf that He Donglai uses himself is made from leftover discarded wooden boards.
A thin layer, pieced together.
He Donglai has so many books that he fills up an entire bookshelf.
The books were so heavy that they bent and deformed the wooden boards in the middle.
As the earthquake shook, the books on the bookshelf fell to the ground.
Song Qingqian picked up the books on the ground one by one.
Wipe the cover clean with a dry towel and put it back in place.
She didn't quite understand the contents of the books, but because she knew everything in the house so well, she remembered where the books were placed.
In order to make it more convenient for He Donglai to use it in the future, she put the books back to their original positions while recalling.
Song Qingqian spent a long time sorting it out.
After finishing her housework and tidying up the bookshelf, she went to the kitchen to cook.
She never stops for a moment.
Because Song Qingqian knew that she couldn't stop. If she stopped, her thoughts would once again fall into the vortex of unrest.
These days, she felt that Jiang Rou deliberately hid something from her.
But……
Song Qingqian didn't dare to ask any further questions.
She was afraid of hearing something she couldn't bear.
As long as you don’t know, you can pretend that nothing exists.
but.
Everything will eventually be finished.
When the house is brand new, everything is in order.
When three meals were placed on the table one by one, the bowls and chopsticks were all neatly arranged.
When she sat in the chair, she could only stare at the roses in the yard in a daze, and the uneasy fear in her mind spread infinitely.
Song Qingqian couldn't hold on any longer.
Finally.
She went to see Jiang Rou and learned what she had to face.
Before, there was suspicion and uneasiness.
After knowing everything, I felt anxious and hopeless.
Not long ago.
Song Qingqian looked at the cave. The endless darkness of the night was like a ferocious beast with its bloody mouth opened wide, trying to drown and swallow her.
Even though everyone was trying their best, He Donglai's hope of survival was already slim.
Three days and three nights.
Not a drop of water came in.
Life and death are not yet determined.
Time is still passing by little by little...
What also passed away was He Donglai's life...
It’s not that Song Qingqian didn’t think of these things, but she just didn’t want to admit it.
Back into the house again.
At a glance, I saw the table in the middle, and the three dishes and one soup on the table that had already gone cold.
Song Qingqian stood in the room.
She was alone, and everything around her was quiet.
The light in his eyes had long since faded.
She looked to the side.
Over there, is her room.
This is the room she shares with He Donglai.
Not long ago, the couple, who had been married for a long time, slept in the same bed for the first time, starting from the night when He Donglai got drunk.
Since then, they no longer slept in separate rooms.
No matter how late He Dong came back, she would take a shower and sleep next to him.
Now, the room is empty.
Song Qingqian looked at the open door, and what came to her mind was what He Donglai had said before.
He Donglai said that he used to watch her back, watch her go back to her room, and watch her close the door without looking back.
At that time, He Donglai should have been standing where she is now.
Looking at a room that you can't enter.
At that time, they were already married, but due to some strange reasons, they wasted so much time.
Memories flooded back.
Song Qingqian's eyes were burned by the sour air.
She blinked rapidly to suppress the moisture in her eyes and turned around quickly.
She avoided the room full of memories.
Song Qingqian looked to the other side and walked over slowly.
That was the small room where He Donglai originally slept.
It is very small, and is divided by a bookshelf, so there is only room for a cot.
The bed board was just a template with a thin quilt on it, and it looked very hard.
He Donglai slept for a very long time in this closed space.
Later they slept together.
The little room remains as it was before.
But he folded the quilt into square blocks, just like a military dormitory.
This man, always in this kind of place, has a slight obsessive-compulsive disorder.
When Song Qingqian was cleaning in the afternoon, she left the small room alone.
This place... has become the place with the most He Donglai atmosphere.
Song Qingqian looked at the tofu cubes on the narrow bed and could no longer hold back the blush in her eyes.
Click.
Tears suddenly fell.
Right after.
Snap! Snap!
Once the tears start flowing out, they can no longer be suppressed.
Tears fell like beads from a broken string.
At the beginning.
Song Qingqian cried silently, only tears wet her face.
Slowly.
She sat on the bed and held the square block of tofu in her arms.
Tears stained the army green quilt.
She closed her eyes and buried her face in them.
Song Qingqian lowered her head and curled up her body, slowly as if she was going to hide under the quilt.
After some time.
A faint, sobbing cry came from the small room.
The intermittent crying became muffled under the quilt.
Like the helpless cry of a child.
Full of despair and pain.
"Come back... please come back... I've been waiting for you for so long... so long... please come back..."