Chapter Eight Waiting for You to Find Your Way Home
There were no lights on in the room, just a shadow of darkness.
With a "squeak" sound, Liang Mushi pushed open the door of the west wing and went in. She stepped over the high threshold and saw darkness.
What Huo's mother just said flashed through my mind, "He has been in the west wing these past few nights. He doesn't know what he is doing and won't let anyone in. It's really worrying." It's been two years since Mo Zheng's death.
She hasn't come out of that shadow yet, and as a mother, I feel really sad to see her." Thinking about it, if a good girl like Mo Zheng is gone like this, I must be too strict with her.
She didn't even miss us anymore, she just left." Next, there was a string of crying sounds, and Liang Muchi's heart was tightened at that moment.
The scene two years ago came to mind again. If she hadn't pushed her down first, if she had jumped down first.
Then the one who is alive now will not be Liang Muchi, but Su Mozheng. Then Shaoyan will not be in such pain, and he will not have not laughed for two years. Then, everyone will be happy.
It was Su Mozheng, her love rival, who exchanged her life for his own.
Therefore, in the past two years, she has been doing her best to take care of Huo Shaoyan, and often trying to find ways to integrate into the Huo family. Finally, Huo's mother's prejudice against her disappeared little by little.
I like it, but I no longer hate it.
She keeps laughing, keeps getting rid of her arrogance, her willfulness, and keeps learning to warm everyone.
Su Mozheng died, so she had to live with Su Mozheng.
But Su Mozheng will never know again that the dead are not the most painful, but the living are the most painful, because she has to live with the dead.
However, no matter how much she resembled the dead person, in Huo Shaoyan's heart, she could not be Su Mozheng after all, even if she was just a substitute.
She calmed down, put aside those complicated thoughts, and pressed the switch in the room. Suddenly, it was bright.
When it was bright, she finally found the man. He was sitting in front of the easel, his head resting lazily. The ink pen in his hand, due to the looseness of his hand, left an uncoordinated line on the white drawing paper.
of ink marks.
The picture that faintly appeared on the drawing paper was the vague outline of a woman.
Those eyebrows, nose, and lips were all Su Mozheng's delicate outlines. Opposite him, there were several easels on his back. In the past few days, he had been painting her in the room where she had lived.
What?
A trace of pain surged through Liang Muchi's heart, and she finally walked over, gently knocked on his shoulder, and whispered, "Shaoyan..."
His eyebrows were quite peaceful, and he was sleeping soundly, but there were blue and black circles under his eyelids, showing a little bit of fatigue.
Liang Muchi glanced sideways at the bed, and finally shifted her gaze to his face again. Seeing that he was not awake, she called out again: "Shaoyan, Shaoyan, wake up!" She pushed his shoulder lightly, and he
Finally being hit by this force, he woke up half awake and half hazy, "Mu Shi, why are you here?" When he saw it was her, he asked calmly, and turned to look at his paintings.
"Madam said that you have been staying here for the past few nights. She was afraid that you would catch a cold and was worried about you, so she asked me to come and see you."
As soon as Liang Muchi finished speaking in a gentle voice, she saw the latter hurriedly wiping the drawing paper.
His movements were rapid, and his fingertips kept rubbing the stain, rubbing it over and over again. Finally, he removed his finger, and only heard his frustrated voice, "It's all my fault, I actually fell asleep. I had such a good time."
The painting was ruined like this!"
His black pupils were locked on that contaminated place, as if what had been destroyed was not only the painting, but also Su Mozheng himself.
Liang Muchi didn't dare to mention that name, so she just took the paintbrush in his hand and dipped it in some colored paint, "Look, like this, like this..." The paintbrush in her hand moved over the stain little by little.
Just as Huo Shaoyan was about to reach out to stop him, he saw Liang Muchi pull away her hand. In an instant, the stain on the white drawing paper turned into a flying colorful butterfly.
It was so lifelike and vivid, as if it was about to spread its wings from the drawing paper.
Huo Shaoyan stared at that place in confusion for a long time before he came back to his senses and said, "Mushi, thank you!" She had seen it, but he didn't intend to hide it. Over the years, she gave up running around and instead stayed at home peacefully.
By his side, he understood her affection, but there were some things that he could no longer go back to. His heart and eyes could no longer tolerate others.
"Shaoyan, I didn't expect that after all these years, your paintings are still as good as before."
She seemed to think of the time when they went to the same school and applied for the same major many years ago. At that time, Huo Shaoyan was young, handsome, equally romantic and artistic. His painting skills had always been better than hers, but...
Later, for unknown reasons, he gave up painting.
Now, he picked up the painting brush again, but it was for another woman. They were so young and flamboyant back then, but now they have become strangers and can never look back.
Lovers and friends are often separated by a thin line, and they cannot be lovers, so they have to retreat into friends.
"Really?" Huo Shaoyan just lowered his head and thought briefly, "But now, after all, my painting skills are not as good as yours."
Liang Muchi's fingers clasped her palms tightly, forcing a smile, "Isn't it true, everything can't be gone back." There was something in her voice.
Huo Shaoyan's expression showed almost no change. He just stood up from the easel, then turned sideways and took the easel on the other side, "Come, let's see how my painting goes?"
Liang Muchi looked up and finally curled her lips and smiled, but her smiling eyes were already a little foggy.
The person in that painting is still Su Mozheng. She is standing in the sun, her eyes lightly closed, her expression pure and beautiful, as if she is on a pilgrimage.
"I want to open a gallery and pin up this painting. In this way, when she passes by one day, she can see this painting and know that I have been looking for her and waiting for her to find it.
The way home." He spoke softly, and every word was like a sigh, neither sad nor happy, neither sad nor sad.
Liang Muchi's tears suddenly fell down at that moment. The tears were like jade, rolling down her fair cheeks.
She choked and asked: "Shaoyan, are you sure Su Mozheng will still live in this world? She is already dead. Why does everyone believe that she is dead, but you don't believe it?"
"How can you be sure that Su Mozheng is still alive?"
"Because that corpse is not her, but just a person who looks very similar to her."
Liang Muchi was a little angry and hated how sure he was at this moment, "But even so, two years have passed and Su Mozheng hasn't come back. How can you be sure that she is still alive?"