Chapter 2394

Changxia Mountain is not a well-known large-scale scenic spot, but more like a back mountain shared by only one or two cities. There are forests and lakes on the mountain. It seems that it is not qualified to say that it is a beautiful place on earth; it is a bit wronged to say that it is ordinary.

The investment and development of Changxia Mountain seems to have the same mentality as the nearby tourists who visit here, unwilling to spend a lot of money, and unwilling to stay for a long time-because there will always be better places to go in the future.

Just because Changxia Mountain has always been in a state of semi-development, the camping houses in the mountains are also houses invested by private individuals. They are scattered in various ways in the forest area by the lake, and sometimes it takes more than ten minutes to drive. , to see the next camping house.

The room that Fushiro's parents ordered is a two-story log cabin with only two bedrooms; looking out from the balcony, through the sky cut by the green branches and leaves, you can see from a distance the occasional twinkling lights on the lake. , Fragment-like sparkling waves.

"It's good to experience nature once in a while, just look how nice the weather is today!"

After my mother entered the mountain, she felt much better. After she put her things in order, she said like a winner: "It's his loss if your father doesn't come. Our mother and son can celebrate our birthday happily without him." .”

"Passing your birthday" is not difficult, but "happily celebrating your birthday" sounds particularly exhausting.

Fu Xiluo let out a "huh", looking at the broken lake between the woods, like a traveler who is about to start a long journey, silently gathering strength for the next day.

That afternoon, he followed his mother and walked through the mountains along the hiking route; the two stopped at the other end of the lake, had their own lunch by the lake, and rented a small boat for a tour of the lake... Fuxi Luo remembers that he also laughed when he was on the hike, putting his fingers into the cool water of the lake, and his shoulders were warmed by the sun.

When I was on the boat, my mother said proudly: "Look, you can have fun when you come to Changxia Mountain, right? Come to touch the real environment, it's not much better than those fake things."

Fu Xiluo gave another "hmm".

Not unhappy -- not really happy either.

Walking, eating, talking, laughing... are just actions; just like the questions on the test paper, one is done, and the next is done. The reason why he does it is because he needs to do it, not because it is meaningful.

It seems that there is a very small self, sinking deep in the body, extremely exhausted, and falling asleep.

The sunlight under the sun, the rice balls being lifted up, the waves of the boat breaking through...all were dreams that were far away from him. The only difference is that to maintain this dream, it is necessary to absorb his physical strength.

When he was finally able to sit down in the mountain restaurant, Fushiro almost suspected that he would fall apart on the chair.

"Aren't you tired?" My mother laughed at herself. "Me too. I sit in an office all the year round and lack exercise. My legs are weak now and I can't stand up."

When the dinner was about to end, she lowered her voice again, and said a little embarrassedly: "Cake can be cut when we go back?"

Fushiro raised his eyes suspiciously.

"Originally, if your father came too, the three of us would celebrate our birthday. Now that he doesn't come, we are orphans and widows cutting cakes in the restaurant. People will think you don't have a father..." The mother was a little embarrassed , and a little unhappy, "It's the same when I go back and cut it. Besides, the birthday present is also in the camping house."

It makes no difference to Fushiro when to cut the cake, or whether to cut the cake.

He obediently followed his mother out of the dining room, got into the car, and went back to the camping house; his mother was much more excited than he was, and hurriedly took out the cake, lit the candles, and sang... In short, it was a birthday that set of procedures.

The moment my mother pressed the plastic knife into the cake, her cell phone rang sharply and urgently.

"Is it your dad?" She put down the knife and hurried to get the phone. "He still knows to come!"

However, the name on the screen was obviously not the father; the mother was stunned, connected the phone, stood up, and walked to the balcony. "...Miss Chunyi?"

That seemed to be my aunt's name—that is, Anji's mother.

Fushiro was lying on the table, with his chin resting on his arms, and the white cake occupied a large part of his field of vision; the other small part was the back of his mother speaking in a low voice.

"What's going on?" Her confusion at the beginning was quickly replaced by a mixed emotion that Fushiro had never heard before. She seemed nervous, angry, and scared, and her voice trembled slightly: "...Really? I always thought—you said slowly—well, well, where are you now?"

Fushiro straightened his back.

Of course he couldn't hear anything except his mother's voice; but he couldn't help thinking of the last time when An Si, whose face was covered in blood, suddenly visited.

"I see, I'll go down the mountain to pick you up now," the mother said here, glanced back at Fuxiluo in annoyance, and pointed at the cake with her finger, as if she wanted to let him eat it by himself. "No...it's okay, kid, there will be more birthdays in the future, and it's all over after all."

She grabbed the car keys, and at the last moment of leaving the house, Fu Xiluo vaguely heard her say: "Today you hide here for a night, tomorrow—"

Words after the word "tomorrow" were cut off with a bang when the door closed.

Fu Xiluo sat at the table blankly, and after a few seconds, he walked to the balcony.

The dark and heavy winter quilt now thickly covered the mountains and forests, and the fragmented lake light in the distance had already disappeared into the dark night. The electric lights buzzed overhead; outside the gauze, there were a few scorching and bloodthirsty mosquitoes circling.

The door of the camping house was pushed open again—Fuxiluo was startled, turned around, and saw that the person entering the door was his mother.

Perhaps it was the first time in her life that her mother didn't pay attention to PS after entering the house: writing in a long stream, and could write two chapters, hehehe.