CHAPTER 1103: 1180: I DON’T CRY, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT IN PAIN

He obediently nodded, holding Shu Yu’s hand, standing outside the yard, seeing his father off.

He originally thought this was just a temporary separation, but then one day passed, then another.

Three days later, his father still didn’t return.

The entire family was anxious, his eldest brother went with a few other fathers to look for him, and in the end, his father was brought back on someone’s back.

Dead, human life is fragile, life and death are just a momentary matter.

On his way back from the town, his father encountered a wild boar shortly after entering the mountains, which gored him through the stomach.

It was from that time that Lao San, Shujun, began learning to hunt, and in the early years, the most hunted animal by Lao San was the wild boar. At their father’s burial, not a single tear was on his face.

Villagers said, Liang Family’s second youngest was cursed against his father, mother, and the whole family. He was a cold-blooded little monster, heartless and tearless. His father died because of him, gored by a wild boar. A perfectly good man died, all his fault, yet he wasn’t sad at all.

He didn’t cry, not because he wasn’t sad, but because he always felt it was like an illusion. As long as he slept and woke, the father who always protected him would return again.

After his father’s burial, for a long time, the first word he called every morning was "father".

His eldest brother and other brothers all looked very solemn, other fathers always looked at him with a compassionate gaze.

But at that time, emotionally, he was numb.

He always felt his father wasn’t dead, wasn’t gone.

Until one morning, he caught a cold, coughing for a long time, his mother looked at him coldly, his eldest uncle quickly covered his mouth, carried him away, then comforted him: "Don’t be afraid, your mother is just in a bad mood, it’s okay, I’m here."

However, what he wanted was his own father, his real father.

That night, when everyone was asleep, he couldn’t sleep, so he quietly got up and went up the mountain once.

The night was dark, the moon obscured by clouds.

He couldn’t see the road clearly and fell twice.

When he finally reached his father’s grave, he was filthy beyond recognition.

He sat in front of his father’s grave for a long time, then looked at his dirty hands, and then his dirty shoes, with a big rip on his pants.

He remembered how his father always kept him neat and tidy.

He was a sickly child and had seen other sick children and adults in the village, but he was the cleanest!

In the past, his father always held him, smiling, saying: "Our Yuyu, born a beautiful jade, naturally must remain clean and tidy, cannot be dirty or messy, must be a little golden boy, like the little boy under the Bodhisattva’s seat."

Perhaps he was born loving cleanliness, but before then, his obsession with cleanliness wasn’t so severe. But from that night onwards, he probably understood.

Death is death, never to return.

He started to become very fond of cleanliness, to an almost obsessive level. And every time he cleaned himself up, he could remember his father, remember the days when his father was by his side.

So his obsession grew heavier, as if as long as he did things his father had done, his heart wouldn’t ache so much, he wouldn’t feel so lonely. Even if his mother looked at him coldly, even if villagers cursed he had no future, he wasn’t afraid.

Because as long as he saw himself neat and tidy, it was as if the person who had been the best to him was always there by his side.

I don’t cry, doesn’t mean I’m not in pain.

I’m not without feelings, just that my emotions, no one can see.