"Ladies and gentlemen, the plane has landed at Chengnan Airport. The outside temperature is 23 degrees Celsius. The plane is taxiing. For the safety of you and others, please do not stand up or open the luggage rack."
Ai Huishan took off her sunglasses, looked out the window, and twisted her neck. The fifteen-hour flight made her a little tired. I felt a little emotional: It's been eight years, but I'm still back.
With so many thoughts on my mind, I remembered the moment I left eight years ago, and it seemed like I had no intention of coming back. The gentle boy who was as gentle as jade eight years ago is no longer living like this now.
Just shake your hair and walk away. Life must go on and what is supposed to come will come.
Ai Huishan straightened her hair and got into a taxi.
About an hour later we arrived at the Heshan Tomb.
Climbing a mountain alone seems a bit tiring. I haven't been here for eight years, and the road is still as clear as if it was carved into my heart with a knife. It seems that every step has not changed, but she, Ai Huishan, is different.
Looking at the photos on the tombstone, Ai Huishan was not sad. On the contrary, she was glad that perhaps death was a kind of relief, but living had to endure infinite pain. And her return was not only a rebirth, but also a way to tell the family that she, Ai Huishan, was no longer the idiot she had been before who could only hold her mother's cold body and cry bitterly.
Thinking of this, she put down the handful of forget-me-nots in her hand and muttered to herself: Mom, it's been eight years. I'm back.