Fu Zhewei...
She sent him a registered letter, he should have received it... in time, right?
Counting the days, it should be about time.
His parents, Uncle Fu Jianguo, Aunt Dong Yulan... and his fifteen-year-old sister Fu Qingqing, are they...all okay?
When Lin Jianxue thought of the ending of the Fu family in her previous life, her heart ached slightly.
The Fu family was originally a scholarly family. Fu's father, Fu Jianguo, was a university professor, and Fu's mother, Dong Yulan, was a daughter of a wealthy family. The family was gentle, respectable, and harmonious.
But just last year, someone reported the Fu family and dug up some so-called "inappropriate remarks" by Fu's father. The whole family was overthrown and sent to the most remote and coldest farm in Heilongjiang Province for "labor reform."
From that moment on, the gears of fate began to move in the cruelest direction.
She remembered that later, those educated youth who returned to the city from Heilongjiang Province would talk excitedly about the Fu family's tragic experience during casual conversations, their tones filled with a sense of indifference and curiosity:
"The Fu family's youngest daughter, Fu Qingqing, was incredibly pretty, but unfortunately, she was too frail to withstand the bone-chilling cold of Heilongjiang Province. One winter, she caught a high fever. Although she survived, her brain was damaged, and she became mentally retarded and stupid..."
"Then it was even worse! She was taken by some idle little hooligan in the village... Oh, it was ruined! With her shapeless body, no one expected her to be pregnant. By the time they found out, it was too late. On the day of delivery, she had a heavy hemorrhage and lost the baby, and she herself... Tsk tsk, two lives, one body. She was only sixteen when she died!"
At this point, the educated youth lowered his voice in a mysterious manner:
"I heard that the Fu family's wife, Dong Yulan, was already a bit mentally unstable, and after her daughter's death, she went completely crazy! She hugged a pillow and cried 'Qingqing' all day, saying her daughter wasn't dead, but just out playing. Then one time, while her husband and son Fu Zhawei were at work, she ran to the river by the farm holding the pillow to look for her 'daughter'. But she slipped... Tsk, when she was pulled out, she was frozen solid!"
When Fu Zhawei returned from work, he was faced with his mother's stiff and blue body.
The family was broken up and the people died.
As for Fu Zhawei's father, Fu Jianguo, the professor who once stood tall and proud at the university podium, all his edges and vitality had been worn away by the heavy physical labor and three consecutive family misfortunes.
The pain of being separated from his wife and children, and the hopeless daily struggles of his reform life completely crushed his will and body. Finally, one day, while assigned to feed the chickens on the farm, this once learned scholar suddenly collapsed beside the chicken coop and died before he could even be taken to the clinic...
When he died, he was so emaciated that only a bag of bones remained.
These were all told to her bit by bit by the educated youth who returned to the city later, with sighs and sympathy.
By then, the Fu family had already been rehabilitated, but the deceased could never be resurrected.
After returning to the city, he sold some old things left by his ancestors, exchanged them for some money, and then went to the port city alone.
From then on, there was no more Fu Zhewei in Kyoto.
The two people's life trajectories should have been like in their previous life, drifting further and further apart, with no intersection again...
Apart from……
Except before she died.
In that cold, disinfectant-smelling sanatorium, when she was tortured beyond recognition by illness and forgotten by all her family...
It was Fu Zhewei, the man she had almost forgotten in her memory, who sent his adopted son upstairs to silently guard her bedside, giving her the last bit of dignity in her life, which was considered... sending her on her final journey.
Thinking of this, Lin Jianxue felt as if something was tugging at her heart, making her feel sour and bitter.
"Huh..." She let out a breath and forced herself to calm down.
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