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Night, very quiet. Month, curved hanging on the horizon, faint golden yellow. A cool breeze blows gently, and the shadows outside the window are mottled. The white curtains looked so sad in sobs. The whole house is filled with the pungent smell of peracetic acid. I turned my head and saw the doctor in a white coat. He shook his head helplessly and went out with the nurses.
I looked at the bed, and the white sheets gently covered me. My mother was lying in bed crying her eyes out, and my father held my mother gently. On his old face, he is also crying. My father has been so strong as long as I can remember. When his hypertension recurred that year, I saw my father's sad smile. Today, he cried helplessly. I reached out and tried to wipe away my father's tears, but I couldn't touch his body at all. I saw my hand go through.
I squeezed my hand tightly and wanted to cry, but I couldn't shed a tear. It turns out that ghosts have no tears. I remember Zijian said when I was a child that even if I became a ghost, I wouldn't cry. Smile gently, Zijian, even if you become a ghost and want to cry, you may not be able to cry.
I looked at Xia Zijian. He didn't cry, but I saw him sobbing and shaking. His hand is tight, too. Maybe he used too much force and his joints turned white.
Zijian, take good care of yourself and help me take care of me. ...
Call me if you have any questions.