It had been a few years since he had been back. Looking at the familiar security door in front of him, Siling realized that he had lost the key.

As the door lock clicked softly, the person behind the door gradually resembled the one in his memory. With her alluring red lips and close-fitting cheongsam, Si’s mother was full of charm in her movements, but not as refined as before. Maybe she didn’t need to welcome anything important.

As a guest, Si Ling smiled and avoided the other party's eyes, "I'll get the things."

The other party did not speak, but took a step back and opened a gap in the doorway.

The heavy curtains were drawn in the room and the lights were not turned on. The sunlight slipped in quietly through the gaps and outlined the edges of the furniture. Si's mother leaned against the door with her arms folded, as if urging her to grab her things and leave quickly.

I told her clearly that I was moving, but my things were not packed. Most of the corrugated boxes were leaning against the door, and piles of clothes were scattered on the floor. There was no memorial tablet for my father in the house. There was only one beside the shrine.

An old photo, it was originally supposed to be a group photo, but in fact it seems to be the only one. However, the two people next to it have been cut out at this time. But there is no denying that this photo was taken very well. He smiled

It made people feel free and wanton at that time. There was no smell of middle-aged people at that time. Si Ling opened the drawer and wanted to light a stick of incense, but it was empty.

The sundries in the drawer were dumped into a big box. In it were all kinds of pens she collected, the old pair of scissors that had been used for many years, and the old tapes from who knows how many years ago. There was no tape recorder at home anymore.

What are you doing with these tapes?

She squatted down and picked up a tape. It had the familiar smell of old things. Mothballs, sandalwood, mixed with the smell of kaleidoscope and cabinets, evoked the scattered fragments that existed deep in the memory. The tape was on it.

It was printed with an unnamed star, and under the soft light and beauty unique to the era, a bohemian profile was left. Sling held it in her hand and played with it, but in fact she had no memory of what kind of music it was.

Si Ling burst out laughing. What kind of song would a man like him like? The Beatles?

"Can I take it?" She turned back to her mother and asked. She originally thought her mother would be indifferent, but a sad look slowly appeared on her face. How happy she smiled at the funeral, she looked so happy now.

Sad, but as soon as she lowered her head, she smiled again and said her first words tonight: "You can take whatever you want in the house. I won't ask for the rest."

Fang Muzhi was just standing quietly at the door. Perhaps sensing the awkward atmosphere between mother and daughter, he said, "It seems that Si Ling is planning to move the house."

She pointed at the bits and pieces in the box, and spread her hands with Fang Muzhi, "Maybe."

Si Mu curled her lips, stepped on the scattered clothes on the floor with her high heels and walked into the house, then sat quietly on the sofa and watched her sort through. Si Ling knew that she always told the truth and simply threw away things she didn't need.

Even people are the same...

After a little rummaging, she found that there were actually many old objects in her home, including cassettes, tea sets, mechanical watches, stamp albums, and various books... She suddenly felt sympathy for these old objects, so she simply packed the box and took them all with her.

Now that we're gone, Sister Qiu's place will soon stabilize and she won't need to stay in a youth hostel anymore. There's still no room left.

"Then I took all these with me."
Chapter completed!