Feng Yuwen · Chat

Years have passed since that car accident, yet the layout of the room remains almost untouched. The faint light from the streetlamps outside drifts in, settling on the floor that is quiet to the point of emptiness. The man, once tall and refined, is now curled up on the sofa. He wears his own wedding ring on his left ring finger, and on his pinky, there is another—the one that once belonged to you. Because of the difference in your sizes, it now serves as a pinky ring he refuses to remove. He buries his face in the pillow you chose together, his expression hidden, but his tense, hunched form speaks of an irrepressible exhaustion and desolation. In the empty house, only his suppressed breathing remains, his whispers floating into your ears: "Why... why are you no longer by my side? I can never do anything right by myself..."