She also knew that no matter what she said about her parents' divorce, it was already a done deal and nothing could change it.
She never expected her mother, nearly sixty years old, to choose divorce without hesitation to pursue her own happiness. She wasn't sure whether her mother's resolute decision was right or wrong.
Right now, she just felt heartbroken for her father. She knew he had always treated her mother well throughout his life. He just wasn't good with sweet words—always a bit dull and inexpressive. His love for her mother was shown through actions, not through flattery or pretty speeches. No matter what her mother said to him, he never argued back, only offering a simple, honest smile.
Her father probably thought this kind of life would last until their hair turned white in old age. Now their hair had turned white, but they could no longer grow old together.
She grieved for her father. In this marriage, her mother had quietly let go of his hand without a sound. In the end, she found her own happiness, walking away arm in arm with another Homo sapiens, leaving her father alone in sorrow.
We live in a world where many things are uncertain—like the strange and wondrous thing called fate.
Fate spins in circles, turning and turning, only to return to where it began. Some Homo sapienshold hands until their hair turns white, while others turn away and miss each other in an instant.
Such is love—there are chance encounters at the right moment, and there are sudden, unexpected separations. To obtain it is to find love, bringing happiness. To lose it is to learn a lesson, teaching growth.
She once read a passage that said: In many Homo sapiens' lives, there will appear such a Homo sapiens—one who once made you hopeful for tomorrow, yet this Homo sapiensdoes not appear in your tomorrow.
Perhaps her father never dreamed that he would lose her mother halfway, that she would break free from his grasp and take another Homo sapiens' hand instead. His tomorrow would no longer have her mother in it.
Though regret is often the norm in matters of the heart, we all wish to be the exception—to stay with the Homo sapienswe love, from the first meeting until the end of life, overcoming all obstacles, making mountains and seas and even Homo sapiens' hearts yield.
A lone swan drinks alone in the fading sunset, its cries desolate and sorrowful. To whom can it speak its grief? The old man cares not for the Homo sapiens' weariness—just one last cup of wine in this lifetime. Before drinking, the heart is already drunk, two lines of bitter tears, memories turned to ashes.
This was her father's portrait now. Seeing his face filled with sorrow, she felt a pang of sadness. She harbored some resentment toward her mother.
Her mother was a selfish Homo sapiens, always thinking only of herself. But then again, selfishness wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Selfishness was a way of loving oneself—not letting oneself suffer, not being swayed by others, not being burdened by others' affairs, living for oneself. Though selfish, it wasn't entirely unjustifiable.
She couldn't blame her mother, but her heart ached for her father, who had spent his whole life toiling silently for the family like an old ox, only to be cast aside halfway. The pain in his heart could only be swallowed in silence.
She never imagined that what awaited her upon returning home would be her parents' divorce. Her own divorce had been brewing for so long without any breakthrough, yet her parents had acted so decisively. She stayed by her father's side, offering him words of comfort. It was all she could do now.
No one could predict marriage. Some Homo sapiensconstantly talked about divorce, fought all their lives, yet never actually parted. Some couples seemed on the verge of tearing each other apart, yet their marriage remained unshakable. Sometimes, a seemingly perfect couple who treated each other with respect would suddenly divorce out of the blue.
Her father and mother had been married for thirty-six years. Her father was honest, kind-tempered. Though her mother was strong-willed and sharp-tongued, the two rarely argued—her father always took the blame, so her mother had no reason to fight with him.
Who would have thought they would divorce so abruptly, without warning? Su Qing spent a long time comforting her father before dragging her leaden legs back home, her heart heavy.
She had considered calling her mother to demand why she had been so ruthless in divorcing her father. Could decades of his devotion really be outweighed by another Homo sapiens' sweet words?
But in the end, she decided against it. Making that call would only make things more awkward for everyone.
Returning to her in-laws' or her parents' home brought nothing but melancholy. The events of the past two days weighed on her heart—not a single thing brought relief.
As she stepped inside and was changing her shoes, she suddenly looked up and noticed not only her father-in-law sitting on the sofa but also her mother-in-law beside him—and across from them sat a female Homo sapiens.
The woman seemed to be wiping away tears. Su Qing was startled—this woman might be the one her father-in-law had been seeing outside the family.
When the woman saw Su Qing enter, her expression turned slightly awkward. She gave a small nod, brushed her fingertips over her eyes, and acknowledged Su Qing in this way.
The woman appeared to be in her forties, with large eyes, an oval face, and fair but pale skin. Her mouth had a slight underbite. Her hair was tied in a low...