He Is Warmer Than Time

Yin Hua leaned over and said cautiously: "Sister-in-law, that's the commander's wife, how can you know her?"

Song Ran lowered his voice and said, "I'll tell you about this later, but you can't tell your brother, you know?"

Yin Hua kept silent and said nothing more.

In the room, Mrs. Fu sat on the side of the bed, took out a photo album from the drawer, and opened it slowly. The little girl with braids smiled innocently nestled in her arms.

When they went shopping that day, they even took photos together. The people who turned back disappeared. No one dared to mention this wound, even Yu Zhang never dared to mention it.

But the more it accumulates in my heart, the more it hurts her more deeply.

She didn't expect Song Ran to ask her, and when she said it, the wound in her heart was torn open. At this moment, she just wanted to cry, but it was much more comfortable than just being bored in her heart.

Song Ran was sitting in the outside hall and heard a very depressed cry from the back room. She felt like sitting on pins and needles and did not dare to go in.

The cry sounded extremely sad, as if it had been suppressed for a long time, and finally found a catharsis, which made people couldn't help feeling sad with her.

The commander didn't know when he came in. He was wearing a military green coat and stood at the door with a mournful expression. Song Ran shrank her neck. The commander would not mistake her for making Mrs. Fu cry?

Just about to speak, the commander waved his hand: "It's okay, it's okay..."

Only when her daughter had just left, Xiaoman washed her face with tears all day long. In the following fifteen years, she seemed to shut her heart and never cried again. It is a good thing and a good thing to cry like this.

The commander walked into the room slowly. Mrs. Fu sat on the bedside, tears rippling, making him feel very distressed. He walked over and reached out and circled her in his arms: "Well, cry out, just cry out. "

Mrs. Fu cried more and more uncomfortably: "Yuzhang...I shouldn't, I shouldn't let go of Weiwei's hand, it's my fault, it's all my fault."

The commander stroked her back, not knowing what to say to comfort her.

Song Ran in the hall felt like sitting on pins and needles, thinking about leaving first, listening to the commander’s wife crying, she always felt that she could not face others in the future.

Just when she was trying to leave, the commander behind her stopped: "Song Ran, where are we going?"

Song Ran turned his head and smiled awkwardly: "I think... I want to go to the kitchen to help Aunt Rong make dinner together."

The commander beckoned: "No, come here and chat with your godmother."

The little girl is so talented that she dared to tell Xiaoman that she lost her daughter, but thanks to her, it was better to cry after all. He was always frustrated in his heart, and he was always worried that she would get sick.

Looking up again, Mrs. Fu walked out with a photo album in her hands. Her eyes were red and swollen. At first glance, she shed a lot of tears. Song Ran felt guilty. After all, Mrs. Fu cried like this because of her.

Mrs. Fu came, took her hand, and sat on the leather sofa together, spreading the photo album on her lap, with a gentle voice: "Let you see my Weiwei."

The photos in the album are all yellowed. It has been a few years since I saw it. Mrs. Fu gently rubbed her fingers, full of affection, and introduced Song Ran one by one. At the last one, tears fell again. When I went to the photo album, my voice couldn't stop shaking: "This is the last day that Weiwei was by my side. It was taken under the sycamore tree at the gate of the Hangzhou government agency compound. Look, how nice the weather is, my Weiwei smiles so much. Happy."