Chapter 3 Chapter 003

I picked up the little Buddha and looked at it. Maitreya, who is smiling, has powerful mana and can drive away evil spirits. Is it true? However, after that day, I never dreamed of that man again. During this period, my husband had some problems, and he kept coughing constantly. I accompanied him to the medical university to see a doctor. No matter whether it was a smart doctor or an advanced machine, there was no conclusion.We can only attribute it to the fact that he is too busy and tired from work. I want him to take a rest, but he insists on finishing the work within a month, and then go to Hainan with me to recuperate.

It was a long time before I returned to this dream, and the scene was different. Everything was there, but that person was nowhere to be seen. I lowered my head in the dream and saw a pair of white socks on my feet, searching room by room.I was still asking myself in my dream: Hey, where did he go?Where did he go? I woke up, took off the little Buddha from my neck, wrapped it in a red cloth and put it in the innermost layer of the closet. It's good to meet again, and ask where the answer to the story lies. Who is he?who am I?In the dream, where is that? Everything was fine for a few days.But my husband coughed more and more.During the meal that day, he was choked and coughed on the table, unable to lift his head.I went over and patted him on the back: "I'll call a car, let's go to the hospital right away."

With my hand on his back, he stabilized a little, and slowly raised his head to look at me: "Actually, it doesn't matter, that's it, it's pretty good." He took my hand slowly and looked at me with a slight smile. But, his face, that was not his face, black hair, white skin, bottomless eyes, thin lips, it was the face of that Japanese, he lowered his head and kissed my hand gently. I bluffed and pulled my hand out. He looked up at me and asked, "What's wrong?" I said, "You, you..." Looking at him again, he returned to his own appearance in a moment, with thick eyebrows, big eyes and thick lips, honest and studious.

I looked at him, still in shock and unable to speak out: "I have such a bad cough, should I go to the hospital?" He shook his hand: "The work will be handed over tomorrow. I'll talk about it when I'm done." I couldn't hold him back, so he locked himself in the workshop and worked all night. I hid in the next room, sat on a chair with a shawl around my shoulders, and heard his cough from time to time. I looked out of the window, and there was a torrential rain in the autumn night, and the darkness was thinly cut by silver raindrops. After an unknown amount of time, the door of the room next door opened, and I heard the sound of him coming out, but the footsteps stopped at his door.Did not come, did not go downstairs, suddenly quiet, as if disappeared.

I got up, walked over, hesitated for a moment, and opened my door slowly. I saw a man standing at the door, but that was not my husband. The Japanese man in the night was right in front of me. I wanted to move but couldn't. I looked up at his face.He smiled slightly, didn't speak, leaned over and kissed my mouth slowly, the lips were cold, and the tip of his tongue was lightly exerting force. I want to touch his face, his hair.I can not.I was terrified that he would disappear at the slightest touch. I don't want to keep looking in that room. I want him to be here with me right now.

When we hugged each other, his sweat flowed from his forehead, to the tip of his nose, and to his lips. I looked at the bead of sweat, and watched it swim across his face. I raised my body and bumped into his chest. , asked softly: "Who are you? You are not my husband."