Chapter 681, am I mentally ill

Their mouths opened and closed, listening to the buzzing sound in Song Yaoyao's ears, she shook her head, her eyelids became heavier and heavier...

The body began to fall.

"Puff--"

Song Yaoya fell into the cold and gloomy deep sea, and those people seemed to be standing on the water, yelling her name anxiously. Across the stream, the picture is distorted.

Finally, Song Yaoyao's memory stayed on a kind and compassionate face.

Ugh--

There was a sigh, and the scriptures were written.

"Master..."

-

Song Yaoyao felt a pain in his heart and woke up trembling.

The man put a coat on his shoulders, and gently stroked her hair, "Wake up?"

"brother……"

Song Yaoya blinked dullly, "I seem to have a dream..."

But to ask her what dream she had, she didn't seem to remember well. I only remember the Sanskrit scriptures reverberating in my head, and the claustrophobic space that is suffocating and fearful.

"Huh? What did you do?"

Huo Yunque played with her fingers, each as tender as the green onions. His voice was hoarse, and his brows and eyes were visibly tired.

"I……"

Song Yaoya shook her head, talking on her lips, but when she thought about it, she couldn't describe anything.

"I don't know." She obediently said.

"Ah……"

Seeing her little confused look, Huo Yunque rubbed her hair and gently hugged her to sit up, "If I don't remember it, I won't say it. Dreaming is like this."

"can--"

Song Yao murmured, "I feel so real in my dream..."

Huo Yunque turned around, poured a cup of warm water and handed it to Song Yaoya's lips.

"You're just too tired, it's still early, will you go to bed again?"

Song Yaoyao's head swelled, and his mind seemed to be blank, and many of his memories were fragmented. But her heart was very dull, as if there was an invisible big hand holding a pointed cone, and once and again, it was as if poking her heart hard.

The water relieved thirst and moisturized the throat.

Let Song Yaoya slowly organize the broken pieces of memory.

This is Huo Yunque's room, and the main theme of the room is still cool. The sheets and bedding were arranged in bright colors in accordance with Song Yaoyao's preferences. The plush dolls that can be seen everywhere, with dreams...

What else is in the dream?

Song Yaoya began to tremble from her fingertips, her small face was pale, and her lips were gently pressed.

This is not normal, she is not normal!

Song Yao knows.

"Brother, brother..."

Huo Yunque waited for a long time, until the little girl raised her head, revealing a pair of confused and misty eyes.

She asked softly, "Brother, am I sick? Here--"

She nodded her head, "Sometimes it becomes less like myself, like a..."

madman.

She collapsed her shoulders, and her small body was nestled in the big bed, becoming smaller and smaller.

"Will your brother hate me?"

"Am I like a psychopath?"

"Or... lunatic is more appropriate."

My parents used to say nothing, and my brother also said that he would take care of her forever. Every time they wake up, they will only tell her that she is a heart attack. Song Yaoya never made them worry too much, but she could really realize that she was not normal...

"I still..." She sniffed, and wiped away tears in frustration, "I also bit you, when I was..."

The girl was pale with a small face, tears were like broken beads, and a wet mark quickly fainted on the quilt.

She clutched the quilt tightly, her fingertips were white without a trace of blood.

(End of this chapter)