Chapter 78

The smell of hospital disinfectant still lingered on Song Ningshu's cashmere coat. Holding Qin Zhou's death certificate, she flagged down a taxi in the cold wind. In the rearview mirror, the driver secretly glanced at the woman wrapped in a black scarf, wondering why her eyelashes didn't even tremble, as if what she held in her hand was merely an ordinary grocery receipt. A light snow was falling on the day of the funeral. Qin Zhou's mother cried until she fainted, and relatives and friends gathered in the mourning hall whispering. "Ningshu is far too cold-blooded," and "A-zhou doted on her so much, how can she not even spare a single tear?" These words drilled into her ears like tiny shards of ice, but Song Ningshu only mechanically handed out tissues, her nails digging deep into her palms. She remembered the scene when she first met Qin Zhou seven years ago. She had just arrived in the city from her hometown, working as a cashier in a convenience store. As she was closing up on a stormy night, a completely drenched Qin Zhou rushed in carrying a box of beer, the water droplets dripping from his hair forming a small stream on the checkout counter. "Could I borrow a phone?" he asked with a smile, revealing his canine teeth, "My phone fell in the water."