After ten years of marriage, Lin Nian thought he was married to love. He would buy her hot and sour noodles in the middle of the night in the rain, and would stay by her bedside all night when she had a fever. But I don't know from which day, "our home" became "my home", and "I'll be back soon" became "I can't ask for leave." With a fever of 39 degrees, she sent her children to school alone; on their wedding anniversary, she waited for a table of cold dishes. She didn't cry. She thought that the endurance was over, and that he was still the same boy. Until that late night, he drunkenly pointed at the door and said, "Why are you staying at my house?" At that moment, she understood - hurtful words are never slipping out of the mouth, they are something that has been thought for a long time and finally said out. The real departure is silent. She didn't slam the door or cry. Just on an ordinary morning, I took my children and walked back bit by bit with my own life.
