Chapter 125: The Past (4)
Luo Yan repeated the words sorry.
When I came to my senses, the tone on the other end was busy.
He put down his phone.
The sun is high in the sky.
Grandma's photo was turned black and white and placed on the coffin, surrounded by white wreaths.
There was a constant stream of people coming to pay their respects.
He knelt behind.
Wang Xiwen shed tears silently beside him.
He knew that Wang Xiwen was regretting that he shouldn't have told his grandmother.
When his grandmother found out that he had been slapped, she felt very sad, but she couldn't contact him, so she decided to go see him in person.
She cursed everyone who tried to persuade her and went out of the community alone.
The old man’s hearing was not very good, so he did not hear the delivery man’s shouting or honking, and was hit by the speeding electric scooter and could not be saved.
In front of the coffin, his uncles and aunts cried loudly.
"Mom, why do you have to go find him? It's all his own fault. What does it have to do with you if they want to make trouble? My poor mom, what will I do after you leave..."
Every word was like a slap in his face.
Mocking his wishful thinking that he could change something.
In the end, it hurt others.
Who should he blame?
The delivery man kowtowed and cried, saying that he had too many orders and had no choice but to do so. He said that he pressed the bell but the old man didn't hear it.
Professor Wang and grandma just meant well. They cared about him and were worried about him.
No one is wrong.
He can only blame himself.
Just like Xu Xin always says.
It's all because of him.
In a trance, he remembered that once when he was a child, he walked to the roof of the community and wanted to jump down.
Why didn't you jump in the end?
I should have died then.
A message popped up on the phone screen.
Jiang Zhao: My dad wants to send me to study abroad.
Luo Yan didn't reply.
A few days passed like this and he returned to school.
The seat next to him became empty.
In the morning, Wang Guoxiong came to the classroom and looked around: "Now everyone in our class is here. From now on, we will spend the remaining two years together."
In the front row, Chen Bailing shouted, "Teacher, Jiang Zhao isn't here."
Wang Guoxiong looked down at the list and said, "Classmate Jiang Zhao won't be coming anymore. Her family wants to send her to study abroad."
Chen Bailing let out a cry, seeming a little regretful.
During the break, Lin Chongyang sat down in Jiang Zhao's seat and asked, "Shen Yan, why did your deskmate go abroad?"
Lin Chongyang looked around and thought that there were an odd number of people in their class. "Is there no one here? Let me sit over here."
Luo Yan's tone remained the same as always: "No."
Lin Chongyang just thought he wanted to sit alone, so he didn't care: "Then let me put some things down, I have too many books."
Seeing that Luo Yan didn't say anything, he placed his pile of extracurricular tutoring books on Jiang Zhao's desk. "What a pity. I thought Jiang was very talented in math."
She is very talented, but it has nothing to do with them anymore.
When it came time to register for the new year's competition, Wang Guoxiong talked to him and asked him why he hadn't registered for any of the subjects.
The young man lowered his eyes: "I plan to take the top exam."
Very ambitious words.
But there was no wavering in his tone.
Wang Guoxiong looked into the boy's bottomless eyes and couldn't bring himself to say any words of encouragement.
Afterwards, their class created a WeChat group.
As the college entrance examination was approaching, one day in the group we were chatting about where we were going to apply for the exam, and someone suddenly said: I saw Jiang Zhao’s Weibo a few days ago.
When Luo Yan saw those two words, his heart seemed to tremble for a moment.
The man continued: She was admitted to Harvard.
The group started talking at once.
"Yes, we still have to take the college entrance examination."
"Ah, I don't want to take the exam anymore."
"Who is Jiang Zhao?"
"My classmates in the first year of high school went abroad in their second year."
"Will you continue to use Weibo when you're abroad?"
"Oh my god, Harvard. Will the school take this year's college entrance exam results into account?"
"Those applying from foreign high schools don't count."
…
Luo Yan no longer had the heart to read what they were talking about. He quickly downloaded Weibo, registered an account, and searched for Jiang Zhao's name.
There actually is an account with this name.
Luo Yan felt as if someone was grabbing his throat.
There are many photos and selfies posted in it.
Not Jiang Zhao.
Indescribable emotions surged like a tide and then quickly receded, leaving only emptiness and confusion.
What is he doing?
He scrolled through the phone interface blankly.
Then, a piece of news like this came into view:
"Congratulations to my goddess Jiang Zhao for getting both applications accepted~."
Click on the comments, and there is a reply from Jiang at the top: Haha, thank you ^^
It’s Jiang Zhao.
Luo Yan clicked on it.
"I'm going to call the police and arrest every Chinese restaurant here."
"Little AMC12~, take it."
"The team leader actually said somersaults are easy..."
"First cheerleading performance."
…
In the photo, the girl is smiling happily.
So he smiled, which was rare.
She shares a lot about her life, though most of the comments are minimal.
But she still enjoys it.
Half a month ago, she sent a photo taken in front of the computer screen, and the email began with the conspicuous "Congratulations"!
The girl stretched out her hand and made a "yeah" gesture in front of the screen.
I don’t know what keywords triggered it, but there are a lot of replies below.
Some congratulated, while others questioned.
Luo Yan looked at it and typed, "Congratulations."
When I came to my senses and wanted to delete it, the other party had already replied: "Thank you."
It was spring, and the cherry blossoms along the school path were in full bloom.
It was a rare occasion that the school radio started playing songs.
Forget the grudge between you and me
How many turns have the cherry blossoms bloomed?
…
Why do we cry for good things?
Who can own Mount Fuji with love?
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