Homo sapiens

Parallel time and space No. 106337.

The third planet in the solar system - Blue Star.

March 19, 2017 AD.

There was a lot of traffic on the highway, and the bus driver looked at the signs on both sides attentively, with a cautious expression on his face.

Outside the car window, it was drizzling.

The early spring, which turns warm and cold at first, always brings with it some capricious emotions.

The passengers in the car seemed to be mourning the spring and autumn, at least on the surface, they were neatly dressed in black suits, black gauze armbands and white chrysanthemums.

In the dull atmosphere, the bus driver saw the sign in front, which clearly read "Huashi 10 kilometers".

In the front seat, a pale-faced young man looked out the car window with bloodshot eyes, his eyes empty and blank, and his hands tightly hugging two small jars.

The dark clouds on the horizon seemed to be filled with eternal despair and depression, and the cold icy rain slapped on the glass, so pale and feeble.

After a while, the driver gently turned the steering wheel, and the bus got off the highway with its blinking turn signal.

As soon as we entered the rural road, the potholes and small stones on the road made the bus bump slightly.

Instead of entering Huashi Town, we turned to the southwest township road.

The hills and mountains are surrounded by clouds and mist.

Light rain comes and goes, the road is still full of potholes, and the unexpected bumps make people feel somewhat uncomfortable.

However, the young man leaning against the car window felt as if he was in a pool of stagnant water.

The storm outside and the oppressive silence inside the car were not as profound as his grief.

"Qingye, we're here."

A gentle and magnetic voice suddenly sounded in his ears. The source of the voice had a look of sadness and concern on his face.

Li Qingye woke up from his grief-stricken self, looked at the gray-haired old man in front of him, and replied with slightly trembling lips: "I know, Uncle Wu."

The old man turned his head and ordered seriously: "Jianxin, Xiaohong, please hold a handful of green leaves."

"Okay." Du Jianxin, a short, round-faced young man, nodded.

Another tall young man with glasses and a Chinese-character face, Su Hong, also stood up and quickly helped Li Qingye up to avoid accidents at the urn.

With the support and escort of the two people, the group finally got out of the car.

Du Jianxin and the old man held black umbrellas together.

The sky is still drizzling.

A dozen villagers from Gaoshansi Village in Qingshanqiao Town, led by two clan elders, waited at the village gate for a long time under black umbrellas.

The elegant old man hurriedly stepped forward to say hello: "I, Wu Heguang, are Zhonghua's good friends. I will trouble all of you folks about the funeral this time."

"Mr. Wu, you're welcome. Old man, I am Zhong Hua's seventh uncle. Fortune has its way with people! Alas..." The old man holding a cane glanced at the pale Li Qingye and sighed slightly.

The seventh uncle comforted Li Qingye a few more words, and then led a group of people to the small square in the village.

In the small square, a shed that had been erected long ago was decorated with a mourning hall, a memorial tablet and a wreath. Li Qingye silently placed his parents' ashes on the table in front of the memorial tablet, and then knelt on a futon on one side.

The long sound of the suona sounds like the cuckoo crying for blood.

The gongs and drums are noisy, like stars falling.

"One bow...two bows...three bows!"

"Thank you to the family!"

Li Qingye's eyes were empty and he repeated the greeting mechanically.

Soon, the guests who had come by bus left in groups, and the Mercedes-Benz and BMW drove away in the rain.

The village entrance.

Two Mercedes-Benz vehicles, escorted by four large Raptors, also slowly left this small mountain village.

in the car.

A man with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes indifferently tore off the black gauze armband and threw the white chrysanthemum and armband pinned to his chest out of the car window.

In the wind and rain, white chrysanthemums fell into the weeds on the roadside. The passing cars splashed a large amount of water and washed the white chrysanthemums into the river not far away.

White chrysanthemum drifts with the current, drifting farther and farther towards an unknown destination.

…

The golden crow falls in the west.

The small mountain villages in the mountains looked even more gloomy.

The mourning and music also became weak, and the relatives, friends and guests who came to see him off were almost here. In the flickering candlelight of the mourning hall, Li Qingye's face became even paler.

"Old Li, please go back and have a rest! Leave this place to me and Old Su!" Wu Heguang pulled his seventh uncle and said with concern as he walked.

The seventh uncle sighed and replied tiredly: "I am getting old, so I can only trouble you. Zhonghua is lucky to have friends like you. Mr. Wu and Mr. Su should also take a rest early!"

"I'll stay with Qingye for a while." Wu Heguang said in a sad tone.

"Then let me see Uncle Li off!" Another old man with a Chinese character, Su Ruoyu, held up an umbrella and helped the seventh uncle to walk away.

"That's fine, sorry for bothering you, Old Su." Looking at the backs of Su Ruoyu and his seventh uncle, Wu Heguang looked calmly and took out a cigarette to light it.

Smoke curled around its face.

Su Ruoyu suddenly looked back. Under the dim street light, the drizzle of smoke made his face blurry.

The eyes of the two people seemed to penetrate the rain and smoke, and everything was silent.

Su Ruoyu continued to support the seventh uncle as he walked away.

Wu Heguang put out his cigarette butt, turned around and walked into the mourning hall.

The two people were walking with their backs to each other, and no one knew what they were thinking.

the next day.

The weather is still drizzling.

Accompanied by his seventh uncle, Wu Heguang, Su Ruoyu and others, Li Qingye stored his parents' ashes in the old house.

This is a small villa that Li Qingye's father bought when he returned to his hometown, at the foot of Changshan Mountain.

The decadent and confused Li Qingye knelt in front of the spiritual throne. The sudden death of his parents was a huge blow to him. For a while, he could not accept this reality.

As the funeral ended, the small villa became deserted.

Only Li Qingye was left, along with Wu Heguang, who had gray hair on his temples, and Ruoyu, who had a sad face.

"Qingye, my condolences." Wu Heguang patted him on the shoulder, and then said: "Zhonghua's spirit in heaven doesn't want you to be decadent."

Li Qingye still stared at the coffin blankly, sitting on his knees without saying a word.

Su Ruoyu wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and sobbed: "Qingye, it's Uncle Su. I'm sorry to you and Zhonghua, if it weren't for..."

"Okay, Lao Su, who could have predicted such an accident? It's fate!" Wu Heguang sighed.

In Li Qingye's eyes, tears flowed down his cheeks like the Yellow River bursting its banks, falling silently to the floor.

Suddenly, there were slight vibrations in Wu Heguang's pockets.

He quickly walked out of the mourning hall, took out his mobile phone and answered the call.

Not a moment.

Wu Heguang said apologetically: "Qingye, there is an emergency at the company. Old Su and I must rush back to Pengcheng. I have already told Mr. Li here that someone will come to deliver meals every day. You must do it." Take care of yourself and cheer up.”

Su Ruoyu's eyes changed slightly.

Wu Heguang continued: "Qingye, I will definitely keep your parents' shares to your uncle. You must get back on your feet. Your uncle has no children, so my share will also be yours in the future."

Li Qingye's eyes were filled with emotion, and he quickly knelt down and kowtowed to Wu Heguang:

"Uncle Wu, Qingye can't repay you for your great kindness."

"Qingye, this is what uncle should do." Wu Heguang wiped his tears and took a document from the assistant's hand: "This is uncle's notarized will. If I have any shortcomings, you can take it with me." Inherit my share of this will!”

"This...cannot..." Li Qingye hesitated.

Wu Heguang patted him on the shoulder: "Qingye, my uncle has no children. Just give me three sticks of incense during the Qingming Festival."

After saying that, he thrust the will into Li Qingye's hand.

Su Ruoyu on the side had an expressionless face and said nothing.

In Li Qingye's bewildered eyes.

Wu Heguang and Su Ruoyu hurriedly left the small villa, got into their own motorcade, and drifted away in the rain.

The third floor of the villa.

Li Qingye stood by the window, watching the convoy disappear at the foot of the small mountain village. In his eyes, there were doubts, contemplation, and more of thoughts that were constantly being cut and confused.

The new book sets sail and investment is welcome.