Shen Jinsong closed his eyes in pain and slowly tilted his head back. This was the first time that his eyes couldn't stop feeling sour when he thought of Xiao Qingqing. He couldn't forget Qingqing's painful and pleading eyes looking at him: Why don't you save me? Why not save her, why let her fall? Why did Qingqing, as clean as a snowdrop, slowly slide into the mire in his hand and become covered with mud?
She screamed crazily in his arms, kicked, yelled, cursed, pulled, tore and pulled, with tears streaming down her face like crazy, and hugged his legs as she cried, "Brother, brother, brother, let me go, let me go, let me go..."
The last time he saw her in the drug rehabilitation center, she had lost a lot of weight, so thin that he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. He was not sure that she was still not his little sister, but the little Qingqing he had supported and held since childhood. There was no light in her eyes, leaving only a darkness, a blur that could not be seen clearly.