Qiu Shui had this dream again, dreaming about his father and Chu Xia.
Everything in the dream felt so familiar and yet so strange to her.
The scenes around her kept changing, and the only thing that remained unchanged was the faces that appeared that were both familiar and blurry to her.
Slender and pale fingers touched the light-colored, somewhat uneven mark on his forehead.
Over the years, on some unpredictable night, Qiu Shui would still wake up from her dream with tears streaming down her face.
The moment he was carried away from his home in an ambulance with a serious head injury, the fire had completely engulfed the house he had lived in for seventeen years. In an instant, there was nothing left.
Over the years, Qiu Shui has been trying to forget that thing and that name, hoping that they had never happened or existed.
Her life will grow up healthily like that of all ordinary people, but she still can't forget the night ten years ago. She had just entered a journey full of colorful life, but due to an accident, she began to deviate from the channel and embark on an unknown dark voyage.
Those fresh blue skies were buried one by one like the passing years that summer.
Looking back suddenly, I found that I had already burst into tears.
Qiu Shui had just turned seventeen that year, in the summer of 1992.