Chapter 85 A Loving Family
"call--"
"call."
The sound of rapid breathing echoed in this medium-sized room.
If it were a three-year-old child, it would be difficult for him to understand the meaning of death at this moment. He might even grab the blood-red clothes hanging in front of him in a panic, or rush under the bed to reach out the ball of human head and try to keep his life as it was.
But he is not like that.
He is not that three-year-old child, he understood death very early.
Chu Songjun's breathing suddenly stopped, and all emotions began to fade away, leaving only the horror echoing in his heart.
Because from somewhere, there was a sound of footsteps.
It was very chaotic, but also very light. If you didn't listen carefully, you wouldn't notice it at all.
There was not much place to hide in the room, and Chu Songjun looked back anxiously.
He rushed into the half-open rattan wardrobe.
He subconsciously played hide-and-seek with the person outside the door.
After getting into Fujiki's closet, he tried to hold his breath.
The door that he had just opened a crack was suddenly pushed open by something.
Chu Songjun only vaguely saw a pair of straw sandals and a piece of gray-black trouser legs.
His pupils shrank and he was stunned.
This shoe... looks so familiar.
The man who broke the door open seemed to be drunk. He was so dizzy that he couldn't see the direction clearly and started beating around in the house.
Things in the house fell to the ground with a crackling sound, and the random banging even hit the person hanging in the air.
The pair of red embroidered shoes swayed in the air, along with the blood-red skirt, like a swing, and the beams of the house creaked under the weight.
The smell of blood became stronger and stronger, making Chu Songjun almost nauseous.
He took a breath quietly, moved closer to the cabinet door cautiously, and looked outside carefully through the gap in the cabinet door.
The person who broke open the door seemed to be looking for something.
After dropping the things on the table, he began to subconsciously look for spaces where he could hide things.
Drawers on the table, cabinet doors for storage, and corners under the table.
From top to bottom, from left to right, it was extremely detailed, without missing a single place where a person could hide, as if it had been rehearsed countless times in advance.
A chilly air passed through the rattan wardrobe and slowly wrapped around Chu Songjun's legs and feet, giving him goose bumps and causing him to shiver unconsciously.
If we keep searching at this rate, we will find him sooner or later.
The room was small, and he was even smaller, so he couldn't run out.
The sound of rummaging through boxes became louder and louder, and the figure seemed to become more impatient, and the emotion became more obvious along with his movements.
Chu Songjun looked at the increasingly familiar figure and suddenly thought.
He seemed to have a solution.
It seemed like he could be of some help.
He seemed to know what he was looking for.
As he thought this, with some terrible expectation, he watched his tender hand gently push the door open.
“Squeak—”
The sound in the room at that moment was neither loud nor soft.
But it was like the first stone dropped into a calm lake, creating ripples.
Chu Songjun could hear his own nervous breathing.
The man who had burst through the door paused with his back to him.
Then, it turned towards him little by little.
The embroidered shoes were still swinging, as if someone wanted to liven up the rather stagnant atmosphere.
Chu Songjun walked out of the closet, nervously staring at the back of the person who was gradually turning towards him, and reached under the bed to grope around.
Why do people become ghosts?
They used their conscious thoughts and all their memories to exchange for the right to stay from someone unknown, and then became ghosts.
That sounds good.
But ghosts can eat people.
Finally! Chu Songjun's eyes lit up.
He hooked the messy long hair and pulled the head out.
The child's hands were shaking.
The headless figure had turned completely towards him.
The air was getting colder and colder.
At no moment did Chu Songjun feel the powerlessness of a three-year-old child.
With shaking hands, he put the head in his father's hands.
"Dad, your head."
Chu Songjun pretended to be calm.
He is so filial, so his father will surely give him a chance to survive, right?
A three-year-old has his own unique way of doing things. The baby fat on his cheeks is soft and plump, and when it sways gently, you can feel its softness and harmlessness just by looking at it.
When the three-year-old child smiled broadly at his father out of filial piety.
I really hope that this father can recall the happy days in the past.
No response.
Chu Songjun quickly called for help, his face full of admiration.
"Dad! Look at Mom! She's been playing on the swing for a long time! Can you call her down?"
My father held his head and paused for two or three seconds.
The air is gradually becoming stagnant.
Only the beams were still swaying.
Chu Songjun clenched his fists nervously.
His eyes unconsciously glanced at the shadow under his feet.
Then he stared fixedly at his father's empty neck.
Success or failure depends on this one move.
They are a loving family!
The head was handed over by the father, and his movements were extremely slow, but it fell at the feet of the red embroidered shoes.
Chu Songjun just breathed a sigh of relief, but soon his smile froze.
The dangling red embroidered shoes stepped on his head, and the red skirt fell down, covering his head.
The cold air enveloped him, hugging him completely.
There was still a faint smell of blood in his arms. Chu Songjun swallowed hard, carefully pulled open his clothes and exposed his head.
A hand quietly rested on his head.
It's tightening little by little.
The biting cold above his head seemed to dig his brains out.
Chu Songjun paused.
He immediately ignored the hand above his head in his desire to survive.
He just looked sadly at the purple bruises on his mother's neck.
"Mom..." He hugged his mother's neck silently, and touched the horrible mark with heartache: "Mom, does it hurt?"
Without waiting for the mother to answer.
"I'll give you a buzz."
The three-year-old child couldn't help but move forward, puffing up his cheeks, and carefully spraying hot air on his mother's neck.
Mother was relieved.
There was a pause.
That moment felt like the third autumn.
The cold hand slid from the head, landed on the child's cheek, and pinched it gently.
“…….”
The hand above my head disappeared, but a group of gazes were sticking to my back.
Chu Songjun shuddered all over.
Then, we uphold the attitude and spirit of treating everyone equally.
Just like every time you are asked whether you like your mother or your father more, you should firmly answer "I like both".
Chu Songjun turned his head and looked at his father's neat incision, and sighed twice in pain.
White smoke came out of the wooden house in the forest.
The sky, which was originally filled with red clouds, was slowly sliding towards deep darkness.
It's getting dark.
A bowl of hot noodles was placed in front of Chu Songjun.
The noodle soup is bright red, and the snow-white noodles are soaked in the red soup. The cooked heart blocks inside are floating on the soup like a stranded boat.
Father and mother's clothes were stained red, and blood was oozing out of their empty hearts drop by drop.
In the air, Chu Songjun could smell the increasingly strong smell of blood.
His father casually placed his head on the wooden table. His bloodshot eyes looked at him lovingly. Blood seeped through the wooden board and dripped onto the ground drop by drop.
The ticking sound became even more creepy in the quiet environment.
Chu Songjun had already learned to eat noodles with chopsticks, and just now he used this excuse to reluctantly refuse to be fed.
He picked up a noodle with difficulty, put it into his mouth, and swallowed it bit by bit.
He now wishes he could eat him till the end of time.
But after just a short while, the cold and sinister energy started to creep up his back.
The mother, whose fingers were stained with red nail polish, held the child's hand.
It was very cold, extremely cold, as if I was frozen by a block of ice.
Chu Songjun watched him pick up the piece of heart that was chopped so small that even a three-year-old child could eat it, and stuff it into his mouth bit by bit.
The meat was shiny and had the pink color of a cooked pig's heart.
But he had no appetite at all and just wanted to be an anorexic bad boy.
"Wait! Mother! Wait——"
No! This is too much!
The mother showed a look of disapproval, and the negative energy in her became stronger, making Chu Songjun's teeth chatter with cold.
She is like every parent who wants her child to eat good things, and she stuffs the things she thinks are good into her child's mouth little by little.
"Dad! Help—"
What's your name? Your father doesn't care.
The head on the table closed its eyes.
Chu Songjun widened his eyes in despair.
His intense emotion suddenly startled something in the shadow.
Chu Songjun has had a friend since childhood.
This friend is none other than yourself.
The friend is a little taller and older than him.
He used to be a smart boy, but for some reason someone dug out his brain.
The shadow behind Chu Songjun was rolling violently.
Suddenly, an exceptionally pale hand reached out from the shadows.
My mother turned her face slightly to the side, and her loose hair, shiny black, hung quietly on the side of her pale face.
The hand started shaking instantly.
The room became even colder, freezing cold.
***
"ah--"
Chu Songjun suddenly woke up.
He sat up and began to retch violently.
But nothing came out.
A night passed and light shone in through the window frame.
Chu Songjun's face was pale.
Look around.
There is no mother with a purple neck, no father with his head falling off, no sound of blood dripping everywhere, and no bowl of noodles that no one knows how it was made.
Everything feels like home before.
He was sweating profusely.
He felt his throat burning, and it was burning very badly, as if he had swallowed a knife the night before.
Chu Songjun realized that he was sick.
Even seriously ill.
He held onto some unknown hope and shouted in a hoarse voice: "Dad! Mom!"
No one responded and the room was empty.
His eyes went dark and he collapsed to the ground.
Chu Songjun was soaked in sweat and had only the strength to gasp for air on the ground.
He closed his eyes slightly, his thoughts seemed to be stuck in a quagmire.
A pair of boots suddenly appeared in front of him.
Then a familiar voice was heard.
"Song Jun! Song Jun! How can you look at me like that! How can you look at me like that!"
Who is he rebuking?
Chu Songjun still remembers this voice.
He wasn't really a three-year-old after all.
It was the voice of the man who had found his home and talked to his parents a few months ago.
He arched his back in pain, his hair stuck to his lips as he gasped for breath, and tears welled up in his eyes.
He was carefully picked up by this person, who pulled his sleeve to wipe his sweaty head, shaking him and coaxing him, "Songjun, don't cry, it's okay, it's okay, your father will take you home soon."
The man who called himself "father" took him away from home.
Chu Songjun could no longer hold on and completely lost consciousness.
Compared with the wooden house between the mountains and forests.
The carriage parked outside the cabin was truly magnificent.
The man in gorgeous clothes held the dusty child in his arms with a look of heartache, not caring about the dirt on the child's body, and only cared about wiping the sweat off his face.
"Hurry back to Xidu! Send a message home! Invite the imperial physician!"
The man was extremely anxious.
"Songjun, my son, I just hope you can hold on. Your father can no longer bear the pain of losing another child."
The man's heroic face rested against the child's face, and tears slowly flowed from his tiger eyes.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
