Song Yang hung up the phone, and he knew in his heart: My sister will not answer the phone anymore. He and his sister are two branches on the same tree. They grow bigger and bigger, but they are farther and farther apart.
"Dad, the food is really delicious, but grandma will scold her when she finds out. It cost a lot of money." Seeing his son say this seriously, Song Yang was stunned for a moment, tapped his little head lightly with chopsticks, and said, "Eat quickly, don't talk so much nonsense!"
Song Xueru's waist flashed, so he went to the town hospital for a checkup. The doctor prescribed some oral medicine to treat injured muscles and bones. Before leaving, he told him: "Don't do hard work for the next month. No matter how old you are, it won't be so easy if you get injured again." Song Xueru kept agreeing, feeling a little entangled in her heart: her son was going back in a few days. Should I tell him about this?
"You have nothing to do with me from now on, as long as you feel sorry for your mother!" Gu Jialing's face turned pale and ugly, and she was going crazy. Song Yang didn't speak, and he couldn't think of anything else to say. He just sat on the sofa, extremely decadent.
The road of life, once passed, is impossible to look back. Countless people have heard this, and perhaps they have all heard it to death, but how many can understand it?