Chapter 85: Photo

“Are these all from two years ago?”

Su Yao glanced at the white T-shirt in her hand, then compared it with the one she was wearing, and was strangely surprised to find it didn’t look small on her.

“How have I been getting by these past two years?”

She could hardly believe it—the clothes from two years ago still fit her well.

But then again, it made sense.

Su Yao usually bought clothes a size larger, especially during her growth spurt.

Otherwise, she’d outgrow them in no time and have to buy more, which felt like a waste of money.

Looking closely at the fabric, it already had that worn, old feeling.

To be honest, when she first saw it, Su Yao thought she could still wear it at home.

But just moments ago, she’d been hesitating over a single T-shirt, and that made her feel her resolve was a bit cheap.

She carelessly tossed it onto the bed and began pulling out various old clothes from her wardrobe, sorting them out by category before piling them on the bed.

The wardrobe wasn’t very full to begin with, so it didn’t take long before it was empty.

Su Yao sighed softly as she looked at the several piles of clothes and pants.

These things actually carried memories of her past.

She casually picked up a gray and black patched jacket—the pattern on the back was very simple, depicting a bootleg Ultraman, the kind kids in elementary or middle school might wear.

This was a gift from her Grandpa.

Holding it for a moment, Su Yao zoned out, then slowly put the jacket back into the pile.

She fetched several rice sacks from the utility room, then packed all the clothes into them—jackets in one bag, pants in another, tops in a third.

None of the bags were completely full.

She planned to donate all of them…

She left the winter coats untouched for now; they might still come in handy.

After tidying up, she put the newly bought clothes away.

Since she’d started cleaning, Su Yao took the opportunity to clean the entire house thoroughly—dusting, sweeping, wiping down with towels—not only the bedroom and living room, but even the bathroom.

Taking off her coat, Su Yao wore a thick thermal shirt and leaned on the broom, panting softly.

“This is really exhausting.”

After a short rest, she emptied the trash and dust she had swept into the garbage bin and finally finished.

She rearranged a bit and looked at the freshly renewed home with a sense of relief.

But her eyes drifted toward the utility room, and she thought, since she was already this far, maybe she should clean it up too?

After hesitating for a while, she decided to tidy up the utility room.

It was filled with old things she no longer used, all gathering dust.

As she sifted through the room’s contents, memories from the past surfaced—memories she was reluctant to revisit.

Her gaze moved from far to near, finally landing on a book beneath her feet.

It was a Primary School Chinese Textbook for sixth grade, the cover badly worn.

Opening the first page, she saw her name, Su Yao, written in elegant handwriting.

She remembered her teacher praising her handwriting when she was young.

The memory lingered vividly—the teacher’s voice was something she hadn’t forgotten, and thinking about it still made her happy.

“How strange.”

Su Yao scratched an itchy spot on her face where her hair tickled, and smiled lightly.

The less one has, the more one needs it.

She had lacked a sense of recognition as a child, so even a casual, unintended compliment could stick with her all these years.

Su Yao knew this was odd, but she couldn’t help feeling happy about it.

Flipping further, Su Yao found a page filled with doodles drawn with a ballpoint pen.

She had loved drawing when she was little, or rather, she used books to vent her emotions.

Later, she switched to expressing herself through writing.

This was one of the reasons she became a writer.

The drawings were mostly flowers, birds, butterflies—very childish and certainly not beautiful, but there was a special charm in them.

Su Yao couldn’t help but become absorbed in them.

As she flipped, she suddenly froze.

One of the drawings was of a girl wearing a skirt with braided hair…

Who was that?

Maybe out of habit, she deliberately avoided certain memories, so she couldn’t recall paying special attention to any particular girl when she was young.

It had been so many years; it was normal not to remember clearly.

But what came next made Su Yao’s breath catch.

She put down the book and started searching through the pile of schoolbooks, from elementary to middle school to high school—all the textbooks, test papers, and homework books had been kept here, none thrown away or sold.

The collection was huge, making it extremely difficult to find anything that didn’t match her memories.

After a long search, Su Yao gave up.

Earlier, she had seen a drawing in one book depicting a little girl out on a trip with her parents.

Su Yao’s mood for cleaning was completely gone.

The utility room, once fairly organized, was now messier than before after her rummaging.

Leaving that room, Su Yao naturally turned toward the living room.

But the moment she turned, she stopped dead in her tracks.

After a long pause, she slowly turned her head to look at the door at the far end of the corridor.

She stepped forward slowly to the door and looked at the heavily dust-covered doorknob.

Su Yao hesitated for a long time but finally grabbed it.

Holding her breath, she pushed open the long-sealed door.

The door creaked quietly.

Aside from that, there was only silence.

Su Yao first looked at the floor, then slowly lifted her gaze—from the tiled floor to the bed, then the desk, and finally to a portrait hanging on the wall.

Time had faded it, almost overexposed, but the two figures were still clearly visible.

Her eyes moved from the frame’s edge to the face in the portrait.

Locking eyes with that recorded image, Su Yao’s heart suddenly thumped.

A sudden, inexplicable fright caused a bead of sweat to form on her forehead.

Quickly looking away, she paused at the doorway before stepping fully inside.

This room… was her parents’ room.

She looked around.

The buried memories gradually stirred as the scene played back in her mind.

She sighed, “Still the same as before.”

How could it be different? No one had come in here all these years—not even Su Yao herself.

Because it hadn’t been cleaned for so long, a thick layer of visible dust settled on the floor and everywhere else.

Su Yao tried to be careful not to touch anything, so as not to soil her new clothes.

Her gaze eventually landed on the bedside table, where a white vase and a transparent ashtray sat.

The ashtray held three cigarette butts.

She remembered Grandpa had stayed here for a while; they must have been left then.

Opening the drawer, she found nothing inside but an empty paper box and an out-of-gas fire lighter.

After closing it, she opened the next drawer, which was full of paper documents.

Su Yao looked through some but quickly lost interest.

They were old bills and receipts she couldn’t understand.

There was a book without a title—the cover had been torn off.

She set it aside casually, then spotted a small photo album lying quietly at the back.

Taking it out, Su Yao took a deep breath and opened it.

Inside were photos of a man and a woman when they were young.

Flipping to the end, there wasn’t a single photo of Su Yao.

As she looked, a strange feeling crept in.

She stood up, holding the album, and ran to the bedroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, she looked at herself reflected there, then back at the photo in the album.

Unease and fear began to well up inside her.

Hurriedly closing the album, Su Yao took out her phone.

Her first instinct was to call Mu Nanqiu.

But when the dial interface appeared, her finger hovered half a centimeter above the call button.

After a minute of torment, Su Yao still didn’t press it.

Instead, she put down the phone and glanced at the album still in her hand.

She let out a long sigh and murmured to herself, “It’s already in the past, it’s already in the past…”

Slumping onto the bed facing the mirror, she lifted her bangs with her left hand, staring at the face that now seemed a little unfamiliar.

Su Yao sighed deeply, as if sulking to herself.

“Can’t things just calm down a little? I just want to live each day simply.”

Having thrown away everything that needed discarding, Su Yao carried a bag full of clothes downstairs.

Originally, she planned to take them to a specific Donation Station, but thinking about the distance, she decided it was easier to just throw them in a Donation Box nearby—better to make sure they got used.

She made several trips back and forth, dressed in red and black, looking like a pretty young girl—quite eye-catching in the bleak winter.

The Security Uncle at the gate liked to watch this.

Now he saw Su Yao going out again, phone playing a twisting waist dance video, and called out.

“Hey girl, moving out?”

“No, just a big clean-up. Throwing out stuff I don’t need.”

“Garbage? Garbage’s good!”

The Security Uncle had two hobbies—gossip and turning trash into treasure.

Hearing Su Yao say she was throwing out a whole bag of stuff, he was delighted.

“Whatever you’re tossing, let me see. Maybe I can use some of it.”

Su Yao gave the Security Uncle a sharp look, then in a sweet voice said, “They’re all clothes I’ve worn!”

The Security Uncle hesitated, and taking advantage of that, Su Yao quickly ran off.

Finding the Donation Box, Su Yao threw the whole bag inside.

Finished, she clapped her hands—this was the last bag.

Finally done, she happily hummed an unknown tune as she walked back home.

Su Yao didn’t notice the strange pair of eyes not far away.

As she strolled toward the community, the owner of that gaze followed behind her…