[MTL]How Can I Get Rid of Him[BL]

Ch 27(Extra 2)

Uncle Li was startled to realize that he had said something wrong, and hurriedly apologized.

Mo Cheng heard the abnormality in the study and walked in. However, I saw one person who looked lost, blushing and didn't speak, and the other person looked down, as if he was ashamed into the dust. One big and one small, relatively silent.

"What's wrong?" Mo Cheng couldn't figure it out, was it okay just now?

Moxie turned his head to stare at him, his eyes had no respect for a father. He trembled and pointed at the photo that reflected the green years of him and Li Tongfang, with a sad expression in his eyes: "Before you and my mother were together, you already knew that you liked men?"

Mo Cheng was stunned, lowered his head and didn't answer.

In the long silence, the air seemed to freeze, so quiet that every sigh could be heard particularly clearly.

"I'm sorry for your mother," Mo Cheng choked out for a long time, "I'm sorry you guys."

Mo Xi suddenly laughed. His mother is a pure and kind woman. She doesn't know what wicked things she did in her last life to meet her father in this life.

Now that people are buried under the loess, Mo Cheng's words are cheap, like bubbles in the air, worthless.

"Xiao Xi," Uncle Li grabbed his wrist, bit his lip nervously, and explained, "We didn't have any contact during the ten years he was with your mother, and it was only after their relationship broke up that we..."

"That 's all. That's all," Mo Xi shook his head, stood up from the chair, and glanced at Mo Cheng and Uncle Li tiredly, "What's the use of talking about this now, you can live a good life."

After speaking, he went to the entrance to pick up luggage, opened the door and left.

No matter how Uncle Li shouted behind him, he didn't turn his head back.

He didn't want to stay in this house for one more second.

Moxie changed his signature and went back to school that day. It was 10 p.m. when Moxie got home, and the roommates were not there. Sitting at home, he was bored and wanted to go out for a walk.

It happened to be Christmas Eve that day, and almost all Americans were reunited with their families, stores were closed, and the streets were deserted.

Before I knew it, I walked to the gate of the school, and there were a few foreign students still walking around the campus, so it was not as cold as the street.

Moxie found a chair next to the street lamp and sat down. His feet were on the snow, and he stared blankly ahead, not feeling the cold at all.

There are so many things in his mind that he needs to digest little by little. When his mother left, he never said bad things about his father, but when he occasionally talked about his youth, his eyes flashed with different expressions.

There are misses, unwillingness, and pain.

Moxie forgot how many times he had mentioned his father and Uncle Li being together at home. He didn't know how his mother felt when he heard it.

The wind in the winter night gradually picked up, blowing on Moxie's face like big ears, but he didn't move.

He suddenly understood, why his emotional path has been so unsmooth, probably because of retribution, the father's debt to the son.

I don't know when it started to snow or how long it lasted.

It wasn't until a child handed Moxie an umbrella that he pulled away from his memory. The snow is getting bigger and bigger, his shoes have been stuck in the snowdrifts, and a thin layer of snow frost has condensed on his hair.