Chapter 1251

Fu Yishu received the news of Jing Qingjia's death in the middle of the night.

It's an obituary delivered by Jing Qingyi himself.

It rained heavily at night. The young master of the Jing family, who had always been unable to educate, stood at the door with a black umbrella and black clothes, looking at him coldly.

Fu Yishu suddenly had a premonition at that moment. The ferocity and horror of the premonition made him unwilling to believe it.

So he looked at the boy, pursed his lips and asked, "how did the rain come?"

Jing Qingyi was silent for a while, and suddenly said, "Fu Yishu, did it rain so heavily that night when you refused my sister?"

Fu Yishu was stunned.

He remembered that day, it was a long time ago.

It seems that it's the same rain. Jing Qingjia says she loves him in the pouring rain.

But at that time, he didn't realize his intention. He coldly refused her and left. She ran after his car in the heavy rain, but he didn't look back.

Now, there is no turning back.

Jing Qingyi looked at the door of the Fu family for a long time. His voice seemed to be soaked in the shade of the weather. He said, "she died. Not long ago, I didn't leave you a word."

This sentence, like a thunderbolt, struck Fu Yishu, which made him cold, cold and scared.

He was a little dazed: "what?"

"She's dead." Jing Qingyi repeated calmly, "she doesn't want to have a funeral. You can come to see her on the day of burial."

He said that he was about to leave. Fu Yishu grabbed his arm, so hard that the veins on the back of his hand burst.

"What's the matter with her?" he asked

Jing Qingyi took a deep breath and said, "you have heard clearly. Fu Yishu, I don't think you are an escapist. "

With that, he opened Fu Yishu's hand, held his umbrella, turned around and disappeared in the rain.

Fu Yishu stood in the rain for a long time.

The rain wet his hair and clothes, he felt the bone chilling.

With the obituary, a white chrysanthemum is placed under the steps by jingqingyi. It has been withered by the rain. The flowers that were alive not long ago are fleeting.

Fu Yishu's fingers are tightly pinched together, his nails pierce the skin and flesh, bleeding, and being washed away by the rain, flowing to the ground, just like whose blood and tears opened a dense flower.

Fu Yishu thought, that night, Jiajia, were you so cold?

It's like in the future, I can't feel the temperature in this world any more.

……

Not many people know about the death of Miss Jing.

Not many people even knew that there was a young lady in the Jing family. She was very sick and almost isolated from the world, so when she left, no one remembered her.

The day jingqingjia was buried was a fine day, with warm sunshine and blooming flowers, but the atmosphere in the cemetery was depressed.

Jing's mother kept crying, holding Jing Qingjia's urn and unwilling to let go. Jing's father advised her in a low voice. Jing's mother cried and said, "my Jiajia is still so young... She hasn't even finished one third of her life... Why is God so unfair to her?"

King father speechless, eyes eventually have tears.

Fu Yishu stood not far away, watching quietly, as if he were an outsider.

He can't even bury the girl he loves in person.

This is always the case.

Once she looked at his back, now he looked at her tombstone.

No one owes anyone.