The poor husband I picked up turned out to be from a wealthy family

Chapter 876 Qin Feng Sells House

the other side.

Qin Feng sat on the floor of his home.

Looking back at the sofa.

With a sad face and empty eyes, he looked at every corner of the house.

I can’t see my children and can’t have a good talk with them.

There is no one in this world who can talk to him.

I don’t even know where my source of income comes from.

The irritation grew wildly in his chest like weeds, almost bursting his chest.

The air in the room was filled with a pungent smell of low-quality tobacco and cheap alcohol, which was in stark contrast to the slightly warm sunlight filtering through the window.

There were a few empty beer bottles and a crumpled cigarette box scattered in front of him.

Another cigarette was put out in the ash-filled can, making a slight "sizzle" sound, and was immediately drowned out by the dead silence.

He grabbed the last can of beer beside him, opened the pull ring with a "snap", tilted his head back and took a big gulp. The cold liquid slid down his throat, bringing a brief numbness, but it couldn't suppress the irritation that was almost boiling in his heart.

Cigarette ashes and butts were scattered haphazardly on the floor around him, along with empty bottles.

He casually put the bottle on the ground, making a dull "bang" sound that was particularly harsh in the silent room.

Then he fumbled in his pocket to pull out a crumpled cigarette case, shook out a cigarette, and put it between his lips.

The lighter clicked several times before it lit up, the dim flame licking the cigarette. He took a deep breath, letting the nicotine with its pungent taste rush into his lungs, and then exhaled two streams of turbid smoke from his nostrils.

The alcohol began to take effect, my head became dizzy and my vision was a little blurry, but the irritability and pain in my heart did not ease at all. Instead, they continued to expand like fermented dough.

In the smoke, Qin Feng's face became even more blurred, with only his bloodshot eyes staring at the wall opposite.

Thinking that it was pointless to come out, he took another big gulp of wine, and the bottle was empty at an alarming speed.

He had thought that the moment he regained his freedom would be one of ecstasy and relief. But when he truly set foot on this familiar yet unfamiliar land, he discovered that the world outside was even more disorienting than the one behind bars.

He covered his face, a strangled gasp coming from between his fingers. Was it regret? Anger? Or utter uncertainty about the future? He couldn't tell. His chest felt incredibly tight, like a huge rock pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe.

The cigarette box was empty and the wine bottle was empty too.

Qin Feng slowly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. What should he do next? He didn't know. It seemed like there was no place for him in this world.

The phone screen on the ground lit up briefly. It was a spam message. He glanced at it, then looked away indifferently.

He wished it was Li Jingnan or Wu Jiao who let him see the child.

He knew that what he did was wrong and that he was sorry for his child.

He wanted to make amends as much as possible.

But it seems they no longer give him a chance.

He felt nothing but heartache.

Perhaps, only in the numbness of alcohol and nicotine can he temporarily forget who he is, forget the past that he cannot bear to look back on, and the future that has no hope.

The only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and the occasional noise from another world coming from outside the window.

And he seemed to be isolated in an airtight glass cover, bearing everything alone.

……

The wine is finished.

There are only empty cigarette boxes left.

His head leaned back on the sofa.

Looking back on it all, he was wrong for the most part.

Looking up at the house, he felt that it was pointless to live here alone. He might as well sell it.

Compensating Li Jingnan and Wu Jiao for the house loss was the most he could do.

He also knew their current lives. Perhaps giving them some money would make their lives better, and their children's lives better.

After a while.

Qin Feng was drunk.

Stand up.

During the two days he stayed at home, he didn't even draw the curtains, living in darkness every day.

Everything in the room was still the same, just covered with a thick layer of dust.

Qin Feng's eyes felt a little hot, he turned his head away, not daring to look again.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured softly to the empty room, his voice hoarse and unrecognizable. These three words were too late and too light, so light that even he felt pale and powerless.

He was wearing a suit of clothes that were washed white and had a lingering sense of embarrassment.

He didn't linger, just glanced around, suppressing all his reluctance and regret deep in his heart. He took out his phone and called the agent, an agent he knew before.

"Hello, Manager Zhang? This is Qin Feng... Yes, regarding the house, we can make an appointment to come and see it... Price? It's up to you, anything around the price will do. I want to sell it as soon as possible."

His voice was calm, as if he were discussing someone else's affairs. Only his hand, gripping the phone tightly, his knuckles white, betrayed the turmoil within him.

After hanging up the phone, he locked the door again and handed the key to the agent. He didn't look back when he turned and left.

He knew that selling the house would be like completely cutting off his retreat, but he had no choice.

This money is the only thing he can afford at the moment.

He wants to give the money to the mothers of his two children.

He knew that this could not make up for the suffering and grievances they had endured, nor could it make up for his absence of three years, or even more. But this was his atonement, his clumsy and belated compensation.

He hopes that this money can make their lives better.

Walking out of the community, the sunlight was a bit dazzling, and Qin Feng squinted his eyes. He didn't know what the future would be like, nor did he know whether Lin Hui would accept the money. But he knew he had to do it.

He wrapped his clothes tightly around him, braving the wind, and walked forward step by step. His back was desolate, but with a determination to burn his boats. The road ahead was still long and confusing, but he had a goal in his heart, a faint hope that supported him to move forward.

In order to survive, the most important thing for him now is to find a job and have a source of income.

Then use the little money you have left to rent a small house to live in.

. . . . .

In the next few days, Qin Feng was running around like crazy. He went to the job market, which was crowded with people and full of recruitment notices, but most of them required "no bad record".

Whenever the interviewer saw the gaps in his resume, or when he hesitated and was unable to explain, his eyes would always become complicated, and in the end he would usually say, "We'll think about it again" or "Go back and wait for notification."

He also went to small shops on the street with "Recruiting Workers" signs, and hired people from everything from decoration company laborers to logistics company porters. The other parties were enthusiastic at first, but once he confessed his past, he was often politely rejected or simply waved his hand.

Hopes flared up again and again, only to be extinguished again and again. Qin Feng's steps grew heavier, and he felt as if a heavy stone weighed down his heart. He began to doubt himself, wondering if he had truly been completely abandoned by society.

I really hit a wall again and again.

At night, curled up in a cheap rental house, he often suffered from insomnia, looking at the moonlight outside the window, feeling deeply powerless.