Chapter 275

At this moment, she was wrapped in a thick cotton quilt.

Her head hung low, heavy.

Xu Zhao walked over and handed her a cup of warm tea.

Zhang Xiao took it and said, "Thank you."

Xu Zhao smiled at her. "You young Miss, somehow, don't feel like a child at all. How old are you this year?"

Zhang Xiao took a sip of the warm tea and immediately felt warmth in her abdomen. "Eight years old," she said.

Xu Zhao's Sai Gang puffed up, and he said no more.

It dispelled some of the cold.

The Husky sat solemnly at the doorway.

It seemed lost in thought.

Ning Chen was fine; he sat quietly to the side.

He took out that lovely little pink booklet from his robes.

He pasted the photos he had just taken in the Waitomo Glowworm Caves onto it.

After pasting them, he stared blankly at the photo.

He raised his hand and slowly stroked the few photos he had pasted earlier.

Meteor shower, Namtso, rime ice... Glowworm Caves.

Inside the small hut.

Xu Zhao curiously sized up Ning Chen.

He noticed him staring at that pink booklet.

He tactfully said nothing.

Instead, he sat quietly to the side and began reading a book.

The Husky sat on the ground in profound silence.

Zhang Xiao sipped her warm tea, very quiet.

For a moment.

The small hut was utterly silent.

"So, all this fuss, you did it just to take a photo? What do you young people call it? Checking in, right?" Xu Zhao said, his tone filled with incomprehension. "I really don't understand your young people's world anymore..."

189. (5/5) He raised his hand, wanting to grasp that brilliant Zhao Xinghe.

Some say that for lonely people, the night is always long and hard to endure, and longing is the bridge from the night to the lonely.

They walk upon the bridge.

It never ends.

Nor does the longing ever break free.

Xu Zhao lit several candles.

He placed them by the window.

It is said.

The night is too dark.

Those who miss home cannot see the road back.

They need a little light to guide the way.

As long as candles are lit by the window.

Those who have lost their way will be able to see the road home.

Xu Zhao was not as talkative as he was during the day.

Instead, he was considerably more silent.

He looked at the man sitting on the wooden chair.

Holding the pink booklet in his hands.

Staring fixedly at the booklet; the words he had just spoken, the man was as if he hadn't heard them at all.

Xu Zhao felt that this man possessed a unique charm.

Very different from ordinary lonely people.

A strong gust of wind blew the main door open.

But the Husky blocked it.

Ning Chen hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

He stepped past the Husky and went out the door.

Zhang Xiao watched Ning Chen, saying nothing.

She simply sipped her warm tea in silence.

And Xu Zhao did not speak either.

He did not disturb this man.

The cold wind on the small island was biting.

Yet Ning Chen paid it no mind whatsoever.

He walked slowly.

Looking at the buildings, which were like ruins.

Just like his life now.

Everything had collapsed.

Only broken walls and crumbling ruins remained.

If only...

There are no ifs.

This is reality.

Did Ning Chen casually picked up a worn-out doll.

She probably would have liked something like this.

A lovely person.

Also likes lovely things.

A biting wind rose.

Did Ning Chen's hand failed to hold it steady.

The doll was blown away.

Internal group 519124243

It landed somewhere unknown.

And vanished.

He stared at his empty hand.

Just like that, he stood in the winter's cold wind.

These ruins had once known glory.

Let alone a single person?

Though it was already late evening.

Plenty of people were still watching Brother Shiguang's livestream.

A bullet comment floated by.

【Sigh.】

【Isn't our life just like the streamer's? Always wanting to hold on to something, yet always failing to grasp it. Even when we do manage to hold on, for all sorts of reasons, we lose it in the end.】

【People are always walking down a road of loss.】

【I feel so bad for the streamer. I always feel like he's carrying something on his back, a kind of unique air about him.】

【I don't think it's carrying — it's being shackled.】

【He's not depressed, is he?】

【Isn't loss also a form of gain?】

【I used to drift around, from city to city, ignoring my family's objections. I loved that wandering life, until I ran out of money and ended up working in a factory. Everyone there was a machine, and I felt I'd lost my freedom.】