Later, Song Liang's mother often sent me WeChat messages, complaining that Song Liang was blind, inquiring about my health and work, and reminiscing about the past.

I don't have the habit of blocking people, I just remain silent.

Perhaps, I couldn't resist my curiosity, wanting to see what would happen next.

It's like following a serialized novel in real life, who can resist?

Three months later, she posted photos of her trip on her Moments, warmly holding her niece's hand.

This was within my expectations.

Even if a son makes mistakes, after all, he's still a son, forgiveness is just a matter of time.

My hand trembled, I refreshed, and that Moments post was gone.

I clicked on her profile to see, her Moments had turned into a dash, she actually blocked me, how outrageous!

As I was getting annoyed, my mom sent me a message.

"Your little brother Xiao Chao is about to be released from prison, heard he did something commendable inside, reduced a lot of his sentence."

I was excited, hurriedly asking, "How much longer, will he be out next month?"

I stared at the phone screen waiting for her reply, anxiously waiting, but she disappeared.

That's how my mom is, she calls you urgently when she needs something, but when you need something, even if you reply in seconds, she can disappear at any time.

I once again fell into memories.

Brother Wang Chao, he was also an acquaintance.

As a young man, he loved wearing white shirts, the wind blowing the hem of his clothes, drifting like a white dove.

I secretly read teenage romance magazines, always subconsciously imagining his face, especially when the male lead was a white-clad campus heartthrob.

Brother Wang Chao's white shirt was as clean as new, because he had a good mother to wash, stretch, and hang it under the clear sky.

Aunt Wang had a fair, oval face, very skillful, she once knitted a sweater for me, with a little yellow duck and the word "Vivian" next to it.

When I got into trouble as a child and my mom chased me with a broom, Aunt Wang often saved me, like Guanyin Bodhisattva descending to earth.

Little Brother Chao was good too.

Back then, we were a group of little rascals that everyone avoided, often chattering around him.

He smiled, took out a jar of fruit candy, and said loudly, "Sit nicely, I'll teach you a poem, if you can recite it, you'll get candy."

Cousin, three years older than us, was more sensible, never bothered Little Brother Chao.

Sometimes, I coincidentally saw them walking to school together, and I followed from a distance behind.

Cousin was the lead dancer of the dance team, walking with a slight turnout, looking straight ahead, head held high, like a little white swan.

Little Brother Chao was a head taller than her, quietly walking beside her.

Under the warm sun of spring, in the shade of summer, they always seemed to walk together quietly, not saying much.

Changes happen suddenly.

Little Brother Chao's mother, without a word, drank pesticide.

It turned out, his father had a child outside.

Uncle Wang had always been a playboy, even a kid like me knew that.

But it was the first time the mistress brought the child to the door.

The dignity that Aunt Wang had maintained for many years was torn apart just like that.

She was actually a person with a strong sense of pride...

After his wife's death, Uncle Wang took the mistress and the child to the provincial capital.

Little Brother Chao lost his parents overnight and started skipping school.

I saw cousin arguing with him.

He held a cigarette in his hand, his long uncut hair covering his face, and said despondently, "Stop bothering me."

Cousin snatched his cigarette and crushed it with her black leather shoe.

She stubbornly held his wrist, her voice firm, "I'll see this through to the end."

As autumn was coming to an end, it was only a few months away from my aunt and uncle's divorce, and my uncle freezing to death on the street.

When I came to my senses, it was already dark outside.

At some point, my mom had replied with a sentence, "Less than a year."