Song Yan didn't know how to answer for a while.

His mind is very messy. Since seeing the diagnosis, he has been in a stupor. 

He has not stepped into the Song family for many years. In order to find Xia Lin in the shortest time, he did not hesitate to give it to him in full view. He knelt down in front of his father in order to see Xia Lin. Even if Xia Liang used nasty words to mock him, he would turn a deaf ear.

At that time, he had only one thought in his mind, that was to see Xia Lin as soon as possible, and only if he could see Xia Lin, all derailed things would be back on track. 

But now, Xia Lin, who has been accommodating him in every possible way, has used such a plain tone to dig out the selfishness that he originally thought was well hidden, leaving him nowhere to hide.

He wanted to refute, but he didn't even think about many things clearly. In Xia Lin's loose but piercing eyes, he found that no matter what excuses he looked for, he could no longer restore Xia Lin's trust in him. 

"Let go." 

Xia Lin turned his face and faintly lowered the eviction order. 

"From now on, I have nothing to do with you. You don't have to be sorry for me because... I'm letting you go now and I am free."

Song Yan's meeting with Xia Lin ended with Song Yan's failed persuasion. 

After being expelled from the bedroom by Xia Lin, Song Yan did not leave. He still lays cheeky at Xia's house, even if he sleeps on the sofa in the living room at night.

Because of the failure of persuasion, Xia Liang looked at Song Yan's eyes as if looking at a tool that had lost its use value. 

Others in the Xia Mansion were also very indifferent to him. Although they did not expel him, they definitely did not welcome him to stay.

But Song Yan didn't care. 

These days, he found that his face suddenly thickened a lot. He did everything he thought he couldn't do with his face. He doesn't know what it means to stay stubbornly in the Xia family, but he knows very clearly that he cannot leave here. 

Once he leaves, he really has nothing.

But this did not prevent Xia Lin's condition from getting worse. 

Xia Liang had to send Xia Lin to the intensive care unit of the hospital, and Song Yan was finally able to accompany Xia Lin's bed again, because everyone was busy preparing for Xia Lin's affairs, no one cared about him anymore. . .

Xia Lin went into a coma and died in just eight hours. 

For Song Yan, these eight hours are as long as eight years.

He stayed by Xia Lin's bed, holding Xia Lin's thin hands, relived their memories from childhood. 

Many of the details that were buried deep in his memory suddenly appeared clearly one by one.

It turns out that he and Xia Lin can be regarded as the friendship between Zhuma and Zhuma; it turns out that when the two were still ignorant, Xia Lin confessed to him vaguely; it turned out that before he met Yu Luotong, all of his life had been all Xia Lin.

Turns out that there are so many important memories but because of his carelessness and inattention, they all turned into bubbles.

Until Xia Lin breathed his last, Song Yan still held his hand firmly, no matter how hard the medical staff tried, he couldn't break him away. 

In the end, Xia Liang came forward and asked Zhou Shuo to punch Song Yan forcefully before waking him up from the devilishness.

"He's dead," Xia Liang grabbed Song Yan by the collar, choked and growled, "what's the use of you holding him on now? Can you still accompany him to death!" 

Song Yan seemed to be hit by five thunders and let go. 

He stared blankly at Xia Lin's body being carried into the gurney and disappeared at the end of the corridor leading to the morgue. 

The words of Xia Liang kept echoing in his mind. 

Can you accompany him to death?

Why not? 

Song Yan's heart was empty and tormented these days, because this sudden sentence suddenly fell into place and found his home. 

For the next period of time, Song Yan behaved very calmly.

He calmly assisted Xia Liang to preside over Xia Lin's funeral, calmly delivered a speech at the memorial service as the survivor, and calmly held Xia Lin's urn, sending off the last part of his life.

Then, on the evening of the first seven days of Xia Lin's death, Song Yan shaved off the scum on his face, put on a brand-new suit, climbed to the top of the twenty-fourth floor, and jumped off in a posture of embracing the void.

 At the moment of the fall, his broken eyes looked directly at the dark sky, as if praying silently.

If there is another life . . .