C17

Then he smiled shyly and thought about going to the balcony to get a broom to clean the house.

His feet stopped on a piece of white paper in front of him. Gu Mo seemed to be familiar with it, and when he finally remembered, his tears were already dripping down onto the white paper and the words on it, splashing a puddle of water.

He wept silently just like that. Tears came out of his eyes one after another as if he was crying silently.

After a moment, he picked up the piece of paper and entered the room. He gently placed it on the piece of paper that originally belonged to him. It was as if he was treating a precious object.

Then, Gu Mo put him in the cupboard and locked it.

The joke and beauty that symbolized everything was already over. The suffering, the laughter, was over.

"Gu Mo, your adoptive father has already … Already... "Dead." The last two words contained the sadness of countless people.

Everyone gathered around the Gu Mo Clan entrance, no one went in, no one asked Gu Mo where he had been for the past two days.

Perhaps there were some who only looked at each other with cold eyes and were too used to seeing too much joy and sorrow, thus their hearts began to become numb.

Or perhaps there were some people who truly mourned for Gu Mo. They were people who were often taken care of by Gu Shenwei's father. They had lived together for dozens of years. Although Gu Mo was brought into this district a few years ago, when he was alive his father treated him like his own son.

The neighbors had all seen this. Even though Gumo had seen that they were not greeting each other often, he still smiled at them.

Dad, dead?

Gu Mo hadn't even recovered from the incident with the Warrick Leaf when he received another piece of news. The impact on him could be imagined.

"I went out this morning to buy groceries and saw your father go out with a coat on. He didn't tell me when I asked him. And when I came back, he was like that. "

"Little Mo, you have to grieve. Hurry up and take care of your dad's affairs."

"Yes, yes. After all, death is death. "

"What did you say?"

The older generation members, who initially wanted to comfort Gu Mo, were led astray by the young man who just spoke inappropriately. In an instant, the topic was all about the young man, to the point where they didn't even know when Gu Mo left. In the end, everyone could only help him clean up the house, then each went back to their own homes to continue worrying about the unspeakable scriptures in their own homes.

Everything was quiet again, and the boy was not asking his mother whose family was dead. It was as if nothing had ever happened, gradually forgetting about the short few decades in their lives.

Who would still remember that small district, one room. There was a father and son, though not his own, though the father liked to drink, and the son was not good with words, and they did not seem very close. However, who would have known that two people would quietly leave this place on that late autumn's day? Perhaps they had gone to find a better life, but everything had come to naught.

Gu Mo went to the funeral parlor and watched as his father's corpse was pushed into the crematorium, leaving behind a pile of ashes. Everything that happened after he died turned into this small pile of stuff.

He took it to the bridge, opened the lid, and sent it flying with the wind. At the end of the bridge stood Gumo. Below him was the choppy sea, and in the distance was a scene of red light and green wine. He no longer hesitated and didn't have a shred of attachment as he jumped down just like that.