C8 Hey You Stinking Girl We Meet Again

In the early morning of a cold winter's day, a heavy haze shrouded the land. The air was filled with a cold, wet air that drilled into the bones, catching people by surprise.

In the desolate residential area, a black figure with white fumes in his breath and ice crystals hanging from his hair walked over.

Qiao Mu's left hand was holding a cloth bag filled with food. His right hand, which had turned red from the cold, pulled the handle of the cell door. "So cold!" The coldness of the iron gate made her shudder.

He carefully stepped up the stairs. On the right side of the second floor, there was a few large, red words written on the painted green anti-theft door. 'Debt for money!'

"Just get used to it." Qiao Mu raised his head and comforted himself.

"Even if you all write down my entire family, I still won't have the money to return it to you." Remembering the scene of her hysterically shouting at a group of people a few days ago, Qiao Mu retracted his gaze. An indescribable emotion could be seen within the depths of his eyes.

She was used to it, wasn't she?

She took out her keys and opened the door. Qiao Mu carried the bag of vegetables and rushed to the kitchen. Ignoring the cold running water, she rolled up her sleeves and began to wash the vegetables. Her red and swollen hands trembled slightly. She had to hurry up and cook and deliver it to her mother.

She didn't pay the heating fees. Every night, she slept in a hot water bottle under her feet. Often, she would wake up in the middle of the night with her hands and feet numb from the cold.

Half an hour later.

Qiao Mu held the rice pot and carefully poured the steaming hot millet porridge into a thermos. He then put the vegetables and two boiled eggs into the pot. He added two scallion pancakes and covered it with a lid.

After scraping the rice porridge from the rice pot, he picked up the remaining scallion pancake and wolfed it down.

Part-time work required 3 hours of work to barely maintain her mother's medical expenses and home expenses. Although it was hard work, Qiao Mu was very satisfied. At least she was not alone.

After eating in a hurry, he carried his schoolbag with him as he walked out the door. In the morning, he would accompany his mother in the hospital and deliver books to the customers in the afternoon.

Qiao Mu's figure walked out of the district and disappeared around the corner. From the car in the corner, a tall and straight man bent over and walked out.

The man in the black ankle-length coat, with his long hands and deerskin gloves, was tall and handsome, with a touch of modesty that was out of place in the old, dilapidated house.

The man frowned as he looked at the dilapidated building in front of him. His handsome face did not have a single trace of emotion, but his deep eyes revealed waves.

Upon seeing this, Leftie quickly took two steps forward and pulled open the rusty door.

The man walked up the steps at an extremely slow pace, examining the broken voice-activated light in the corridor, the rusted handrails, the mottled walls. On the second floor, a man stood up straight as he looked at the large scarlet words written on the green security door.

Zuo Zhen looked at the CEO who was staring expressionlessly at the anti-theft door. He was scared, he couldn't figure out the temper of his CEO, so he had to bite the bullet and ask, "CEO, do we need to open the door?"

The man's eyes were half closed, so he couldn't see the emotions in the depths of his eyes. He opened his thin lips, and the warm air he exhaled immediately turned into white mist. With a deep voice, he said, "Key."

If Qiao Mu had been present, she would have jumped and immediately called the police uncle to inform him that some villain had stolen her key!

The air in the room was chilly and cold. His tall figure stood in the narrow living room, appearing even more cramped and crowded. The man lowered his head slightly and entered the small room with the doll hanging from the doorframe.

His gaze swept left and right, quickly landing on a picture frame.

The man's cold eyes turned gentle. Ripples appeared in those eyes that were as calm as water, and his eyes were filled with mist.

As if a hammer had suddenly struck his heart, pain permeated his entire body and his fingertips could not help but tremble. "Little girl, I've finally found you."

Although he had already guessed it, the bright smile on the photo still caused the man's expression to change instantly.

"Big brother, don't cry. Look, the cherry blossoms are about to bloom." The young man turned his head to look at the little girl with the ponytail, who was laughing extremely brilliantly.

"Mind your own business, you rascal, go away!" The youth stared at the little girl's tattered clothes with a hint of disdain and roared.

The little girl was stunned by his roar, her hands rubbing the corners of her clothes, hesitating for a moment. Looking at the stubborn boy who was wiping away his tears, she spoke once again, her voice carrying a trace of timidness.

"Don't cry …"

"Which eye of yours saw me crying? Scram!"

The little girl stopped talking. Her big innocent eyes stared at him, clear and unblemished.

Suddenly, she grinned at him, like a morning lily blooming in the morning. The fragrance of dew was striking.

For many years afterwards, whenever the silent Xi Muqiao thought of the little girl, he would think that perhaps it was the little girl's final smile that entered his heart and opened his heart that had been depressed for a long time.

The man greedily looked at the photo in his hand. It was still the same old and tattered little shirt, the same tall ponytail, and the same small smile that he remembered. The man smiled, the corners of his lips raised high, and his eyes were filled with the gentle gaze of a drowning man.

Although he had guessed that Qiao Mu was the little girl from that year, when he saw that familiar little face once again in his memory, the man still could not suppress the excitement in his heart.

"Big brother, don't cry …" The crisp sound seemed to echo in his ears.

In the lower right-hand corner of the blackened wooden frame, there was a ballpoint pen. Noob.

"Hey, little thing, we meet again!" Xi Muqiao raised his head slightly and withdrew the tears from his eyes.

Simujo's nose was sour, his eyes were swollen, and the memory of what had happened flashed through his mind for fourteen years.

The rest of the photo frames next to them showed 10, 15, and 18 years old respectively. The small facial features gradually opened, and the long hair was replaced with short hair. The delicate handwriting became beautiful, but what remained was the smiling little face in each photo.

He had not been able to witness the growth of his little girl. He did not know how she had managed to grow from the age of 6 to 20, but he could feel her stubbornness from start to finish.

A few photos filled up Xi Muqiao's empty space over the years. He was glad that the hardships of life did not crush her, nor did they erase the brilliant smile on her small face. It was not too late.

Many years ago, he lost his little girl. Now, he had found her. She didn't recognize him, but what did it matter? This time he would cling to her, not giving her the slightest chance to leave him.

Seeing the small, faded Mitch Doll on Chuan's head, Xi Muqiao's expression eased up a bit. He had given her little Mitch, and she had kept it all these years.

The kitchen was clean and tidy, with a faint fragrance wafting in the air.

Picking up the lid of the plate, he saw that the scallion pancakes he made earlier still had some warmth remaining. Xi Muqiao's eyes were filled with happiness as he placed one of the pancakes into his mouth, "Little bastard, let's treat this as the interest on the wounds you've left on my body and mind."

After he finished eating, Xi Muqiao wiped his hands, his lips curled up into a faint smile, and a smile blossomed on his face. He could even imagine what kind of expression Little Rascal would have when it discovered that there was less cake.

When he walked out of the kitchen, the man touched the corner of his lips. He looked very comfortable. It had been so many years, but this was the first time he felt his heart beating so hard. He waved at the Left Wing behind him. "You, go to the hospital …"