Cure to My Wailing Heart Chapter 6

Mason watched Travis stand up and walk out the door, and then Connor followed him out with his legs swinging. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Connor pulled the door open with a "clang" sound. He was so startled that he almost fell off the chair, and sat there for a long time before he came to his senses.

In fact, although the sound of Connor closing the door was quite loud, he was not completely unprepared. Just because of Connor's sideways posture, the sound could not be small. He didn't know why he reacted so loudly.

Maybe it's because of anxiety.

A shell, no matter what kind of shell it is, is still a shell. Without it, you no longer have the conditions to pretend to be safe.

Ever since the day Mason learned the word security, he felt that he lacked it very much.

Especially when you need to "face", no matter what you face.

When he left home, he only had one more set of clothes on than Guo Ben. He didn't think too much when he left. He just felt suffocated and couldn't breathe. As long as he could open the door and walk out, it would be fine.

It's quite simple to think about it. We'll talk about it after we go out. We can stay at someone's house for a few days before we talk about it. We'll talk about it when the matter comes to an end...

As a result, before he could even get into position, everything was captured in one go, all of which were inexplicable emergencies, and he was a little overwhelmed and confused.

Growing up, the biggest thing he had to deal with was a fight with Adrian, and he didn't handle it well. Adrian smashed his head and filed a lawsuit first. He was so angry that he kicked Adrian in front of his father. One kick, and my father hit me from the second floor to the yard.

...stupid.

Mason stood up, walked to the door, looked out through the peephole, and saw that there was no one in the corridor, so he opened the door.

The key Travis gave him was very cute, with a keychain with a cat's head hanging on it. He took out the key and tried the lock, unlocked it and then closed the door.

He held the key for a long time but couldn't figure out where to put it. He had no memory of ever holding a key. He didn't use keys at home, nor did he need keys for his room. No matter which door his family entered, they would knock first, so there was no need for keys to drawers or cabinets.

In the end, Mason put the key in his trouser pocket. Now he had to go back to Holden's house, put the key back in the property, and get the storage equipment he bought.

But when he saw these goods being loaded, he wanted to give up.

He leaned against the door frame of the bathroom and looked at the things on the shelf. He didn't even understand how he carried this pile of things back that day.

But after watching for a few minutes, he still took a pocket and put all these things in. He had almost no luggage, just a few clothes he had just bought. Too few things would aggravate the uneasiness of "going out to live alone from today on" It feels like he needs some luggage.

Finally, he walked out of the room carrying a very heavy bag, without even trying to feel whether it felt better or not. He just knew that the bag was hurting his fingers.

He carried the bag to the property management to return the keys, then carried the bag out of the community, and stood on the roadside to hail a taxi. After five minutes, he still couldn't get one. He began to regret it and threw the things at his feet, no longer wanting them.

A taxi drove over, and Mason was about to raise his hand to hail it, when two girls beside him reported the license plate number while looking at their phones: "This is it."

Mason watched them get into the car, and then watched the car drive away.

Ah, this is the car I called on my cell phone.

Mason took out his mobile phone. He had never used any taxi-hailing apps before because he had no use for them. He even rarely used mobile payment.

He temporarily downloaded a taxi app and studied how to use it. When he was about to hail a taxi, an empty taxi drove past him.

I wonder if he didn't look like someone who was about to take a taxi. The car didn't even slow down to see if he was about to take a taxi.

Mason looked at the car going away and said with emotion: "fcuk."

The software prompted that a driver had accepted the order. While waiting, Mason kept praying silently that no car would pass by. Perhaps his bad luck was almost over, because the map showed that the car that accepted the order was already at the intersection, and no other taxis passed by him.

A black Volkswagen stopped next to him. He moved aside, honked the horn and lowered the window.

"Is that you?" the driver called out to him.

"What?" Mason looked at the driver.

"Is this the car you ordered?" the driver asked.

Mason was stunned: "I called a taxi."

"You called an express," the driver said, "please check the license plate and model."

"---..Oh." Mason took a look at his phone and saw that the car model and license plate were indeed written on it.

After getting in the car, the driver looked at him and smiled: "You don't use this often, do you?"

"I've never used it." Mason answered truthfully.

"Really?" the driver was a little surprised, "This is so convenient. It's really uncommon for young people to not use it these days."

"I'm probably not a young man." Mason said.

When he was picking up the house keys in his heavy pocket, Mason suddenly felt uneasy. He stared at the door lock and hesitantly put his ear to the door again to listen.

Travis always made him feel that he was not mentally normal. Now he lived in a house where changing the locks was not allowed but Travis still had the key. He was always afraid that when he opened the door, he would see Travis sitting on the sofa with the chief protector standing next to him.

It was very quiet inside the door, and nothing could be heard. Mason felt a little funny when he thought about it, but when he opened the door, he carefully looked inside again, then entered the room, and then locked the door from the inside. On.

Mason threw the things in his hand to the ground, fell on the sofa, closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

He lay there for an unknown amount of time until his back became a little numb. He then sat up again, glanced at the time, and found that he must have fallen asleep. Now, two hours had passed since he entered the door.

hungry.

Mason stood up and took a look around the kitchen. There were kitchen utensils, but he couldn't tell whether they were complete. He then put his stockpiled goods in the bathroom, and the shelves were full in an instant, looking like supermarket shelves.

After staring for a long time, he took these things down and put them in the cabinet.

When he walked around the bedroom and returned to the living room, Mason suddenly felt very irritable.

Very irritable.

He originally thought that since the house had been rented, the keys had been obtained, and people had moved in, that was the end of it.

He found out that he still needed to buy quilts, pillows, sheets, and quilt covers, and he didn't change his shoes after entering the house because he didn't have slippers...

"Ah!" Mason threw himself hard into the sofa and kicked the armrest of the sofa twice, "I'm so annoyed!"

"This is delicious, this rice sauce," Connor picked up a bottle and put it in the supermarket cart, "There are meat pieces in it, especially big ones."

"If you want to eat meat, can't you just buy it?" Travis said, "Point to the bit of meat in the bibimbap sauce. Can you take a bite if you add it together?"

"It's about the same," Connor said, "My mouth isn't big."

"I don't want to talk to you," Travis said, "I beg you to go back to your home for dinner tonight."

"My aunt is at my house. She doesn't want to go back. She's very annoyed," Connor frowned. "Whenever she's in a bad mood, she comes to my house to find fault with me. I don't know where this habit comes from."

"I never feel in a good mood when I see you." Travis said.

"There's cat food over there," Connor pointed to the front, "Would you like to buy some for the little cat?"

"It eats." Travis said.

"Why should we eat when we have cat food?" Connor asked.

"If you don't buy it, you won't have it. If you don't have it, you will eat it." Travis looked at him, "I picked up a stray cat and bought cat food. It ate all the garbage before."

"Then you bought cans for it." Connor said.

"You," Travis pointed at him, "go to the checkout counter and line up."

"Okay." Connor nodded, turned and left.

Travis pushed the cart towards the shelf selling milk powder. He heard that kittens wanted to drink goat's milk. Drinking milk would cause diarrhea and death.

"dmn, it's so expensive." He stared at the various milk powders on the shelf for a long time, then took two bags of goat milk powder and put them in the cart.

The shelves were a bit narrow, so he dragged the cart back out and picked up another bag of baby milk powder. He didn't know why he bought it, but he thought it tasted good.

Just as he exited the passage, before turning around, Travis bumped into someone behind him.

"I'm sorry." he said.

The person behind him said nothing.

Can't you even say "it's okay"?

It's a rare occasion for an unqualified person like him to be polite, but he met someone who didn't respond!

What quality!

He turned his head and glared.

Jaeger-LeCoultre.

No, Mason.

Mason was holding a basket and standing behind him, looking at him with an expression that was unclear whether it was shock, annoyance, helplessness or disgust.

"Don't you even know how to say it's okay?" Travis stared at him.

Mason still looked at him, his complicated expression turned into one of shock, and after a few seconds he said: "It doesn't matter, you bumped into my wound, so you're grateful that I didn't slap you." "

Travis glanced at his waist, which was quite surprising.

He felt that he had made a pretty good decision that day. He should have just worn his clothes and not touched his body, but he was actually injured?

"Is your waist so thick?" he couldn't help but ask.

"What..." Mason was stunned for a moment, then seemed to suddenly lose interest in speaking and turned away.

"There is a cart." Travis saw that there were many things in his basket, "Why are you carrying a basket?"

It’s not easy to track when pushing a cart, right?

Carrying a basket while following others and putting things in it secretly, and finally accidentally filling it up?

Mason turned around, walked back to him, and looked at him: "Do you have paper and pen?"

"Yes." Travis said.

"Let me use it." Mason said.

Travis squinted his eyes and took out a piece of cigarette paper and a ballpoint pen from his pocket.

Mason took it, lowered his head and wrote three words on the paper, and then handed the pen and paper back to him.

Risperidone.

"What?" Travis asked.

"You can buy it at the pharmacy," Mason said, "for treating schizophrenia."

"fcuk you." Travis said.

"Whatever." Mason turned and left.

The basket was very heavy, and Mason's hands felt a little sore even when he could carry it, but Travis was still watching him from behind, so he couldn't walk in too much embarrassment.

It wasn't that he didn't want to get a cart, but he didn't see a cart anywhere at all. After entering the supermarket, he only saw a basket next to the shelf, and there was only one basket.

It wasn't until he passed two rows of shelves that he threw the basket to the ground: "fcuk."

Too dmn heavy.

He glanced to the side and saw a little girl wearing supermarket clothes putting goods on a cart onto a shelf.

"Are these all going to be put up?" he asked.

"Yes." the little girl replied.

"Can I use this car?" he asked again.

"Ah?" the little girl was stunned.

"There are too many things," he pointed at the basket, "Does your cart need to be stepped on to make it appear?"

The little girl laughed: "The bus is right at the door. When you get up from the elevator, there are two big rows."

"---..Is that so?" Mason suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Was he blind? He didn't see it?

"You use this." The little girl took out the last thing.

"Thank you." Mason was very touched and quickly put the things in the basket into it.

He almost couldn't remember what he wanted to buy next. He stared at the things in the car again before he remembered that he wanted to buy underwear.

He looked around for a long time and couldn't see where his underwear was.

This supermarket is quite big, with countless shelves, like a maze. At first, he thought the supermarket was probably a U-shape. After walking around for a while, he thought it might be a "Hui" character, and then after a while he thought it might be a concave character. Finally, he changed from two to two. When I came out from between the shelves, I ran into Travis again...

He felt that this supermarket should be owned by his mother.

When Travis saw him, he was not surprised at all. He looked very calm and even supported the bike with his arms and smiled at him.

Mason pulled the corners of his mouth but failed to laugh.

"What are you looking for?" Travis asked him with a smile.

"Underwear." Mason replied.

"Over there." Travis pointed behind him.

Mason looked over and saw a wall full of bras.

Travis probably saw his inner anger and added: "The underwear is all together, don't you know this?"

"Good night." Mason said and pushed the cart away.

Travis turned his head and looked for a while, and began to doubt his judgment.

Although many details from the time Mason appeared to the present could not be explained and there seemed to be something wrong no matter how he thought about it, he really couldn't connect such a person with those people before.

If Mason really has a problem, then this time he is really unconventional and it is simply novel and unique.

After Mason disappeared among the shelves, Travis sighed, turned around and pushed the cart towards the checkout counter. From a distance, he saw Connor standing next to the checkout counter waving to him.

"You are too slow," Connor said, "I even let a football team pass."

"I have to be picky, since they are things I eat every day," Travis said, "I'm not like you who have no sense of taste."

"I have a sense of taste," Connor pulled the cart and pushed it to the cashier. "My sense of taste is just not very developed. To put it simply, I'm not as picky as you."

"I'll wait for you outside." Travis gave Connor his wallet and walked out of the supermarket.

It's getting dark early now, just after get off work, and the lights outside are already on. Travis reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette and looked around.

He doesn’t like nights, cloudy days, fog, or any space with insufficient saturation and brightness.

It would scare him.

Even though there were countless people walking back and forth around him at this moment, some were talking, some were laughing, some were crying, and there were people quarreling on the other side of the road. Everywhere he looked, it was full of people.

He still gets scared.

Because no matter how many people there are, no one can see him. Even if he unzips his zipper and urinates in the street, not many people may be able to see him, and before he finishes urinating, these few people may have already Gone far.

Travis lit a cigarette and held it in his mouth. When he put the cigarette case back in his pocket, he touched the cigarette wrapper written by Mason. He took it out and took a look.

Risperidone.

fcuk you.

He lit the piece of paper with a lighter and watched the three words that Mason had written very well slowly twisting and disappearing in the light of the fire.

How do you pronounce the word ketone?

"Third brother," Connor called him, "Let's go."

Travis put out his cigarette and looked back. Connor was walking towards him carrying two large bags.

"So much." He took one bag, and it was quite heavy after weighing it, so he reached out and took the other bag. After comparing it, the first bag was lighter, so he handed the bag back to me. Connor.

"It's too obvious, Third Brother." Connor looked at him.

"You still have to come to my place to get food even if you don't have a car," Travis said. "It goes against my principles if I carry a bag for you, okay?"

"That's right!" Connor turned his head suddenly as he walked with excitement on his face, "You know I just finished checking out, and when I looked back, who did I see?"

"I know." Travis said.

"Jaeger-LeCoultre!" Connor said, "I actually saw Jaeger-LeCoultre! I didn't expect it!"

Travis glanced at him and said nothing.

"Oh, you mean you know," Connor was stunned, "How did you know?"

"Because of you!" Travis yelled under his breath, and kicked Connor's feet as he threw him in front of him. "When I saw him, I jumped up to three feet with excitement! You fcuking love fcuk him!"

"Hey!" Connor jumped to the side, "Don't let me kick you."

"Also," Travis pointed at him, "stop calling him Jaeger-LeCoultre!"

"Why?" Connor said, "I didn't call him Jaeger to his face."

"I'm afraid I've heard too much!" Travis slapped him on the back, "I'll call him Jaeger-LeCoultre when I see him!"

"---..Oh." Connor nodded, thought about it and moved closer to him, "Third brother, I don't really understand why we can't call him Jijia in front of him. It's just a nickname. Don't we call a dog a dog?"

"Shameful." Travis said.

Connor didn't speak and was silent for a long time. When Travis almost forgot what they were talking about before, he slapped his thigh: "I see, calling him Jaeger-LeCoultre seems like we have never seen money." It seems like that, right! I always remember that I have a high-end watch!"

Travis held his breath for a long time and then sighed.

"But you really don't have a watch worth hundreds of thousands." Connor added.

Travis turned his head, and Connor quickly raised his hand to protect his head.

"fcuk your ancestors." Travis was amused, "Did I kick your stool when you were hanging yourself in your last life?"

Travis didn't like staying in the kitchen because the space was too small and he felt stuffy, so when Connor came to eat, he would usually sit in the living room waiting to eat, even though Connor's cooking skills were an insult to the ingredients.

"Third brother!" Connor shouted from the kitchen, "How about making sweet and sour pork ribs?"

"Whatever, as long as it's cooked through," Travis looked at the contract in his hand. At the end of the contract was a copy of Mason's ID card. "Don't make it too hard on Pai Gu."

Mason's name was indeed Mason. Travis stared at his date of birth for a while, and then calculated Mason's age in his mind.

fcuk.

Already twenty-seven.

I really didn’t see it.

Travis flicked his finger at Mason's photo. Any seventeen-year-old child here would have better survival ability than this young master.

At least you won’t be unable to find underwear in the supermarket.

A smell of chili wafted in from the window. Travis choked for a long time, then stood up and closed the window. When he was about to leave, he felt someone outside.

He didn't move the curtains. The lights in the living room were not turned on at the moment, so he couldn't see his shadow clearly outside. He tilted his head and looked out through the gap in the curtains.

A figure quickly retreated into the passage between the two buildings diagonally opposite and disappeared.

Travis frowned, sat down on the sofa, and turned on the TV.

"It's ready, let's get ready to eat." Connor brought out a pot of soup and placed it on the table.

"You can stay here with me tonight." Travis said.

"Hmm?" Connor looked at him, then immediately leaned to the window and looked out, "Did you see anyone?"

"Not sure." Travis said.

"Then I'll stay," Connor took out his cell phone, "I'll call a few more people to guard outside."

"You are like this," Travis pressed his eyebrows, "why don't you write a banner and hang it on the window, saying 'I have found you'."

Connor was stunned and put the phone back in his pocket: "dmn, when will you be able to talk to me properly?"

"When can you make some room for your IQ in your mind!" Travis stood up and went into the kitchen, bringing out the ingredients that Connor had insulted.

"Third brother," Connor sat down at the table, "I have an immature suggestion."

"Let's talk about it when it's mature." Travis said.

"If you think there is something wrong with Jaeger-LeCoultre," Connor said, "don't we have the key? Go in and look for it when he is not here to see if there are any clues."

Travis said nothing and looked at him.

"How is it?" Connor asked.

"Don't call him Jaeger-LeCoultre," Travis said.

"...Oh." Connor nodded.