When Su He came in, Smith Du had already taken off his shoes and got on the bed, holding the box of his collection.
He also buried his head in the quilt, holding it up high like a small hill. Inside the hill was the light of a mobile phone, with a Smith Du and countless Mr. Gu in the photos.
Su He sighed softly.
She sat down at the head of the bed and touched her son's head with her slender white hands through the thick quilt.
"......mom?"
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