There is no additional sound in the empty room. The dim candlelight in the corner lightly illuminates the sculpture of a deer praying devoutly on one side. The shadow of the flowers wrapped around the deer's antlers is projected on the opposite closet, and on the guitar carefully placed in the closet. Create subtle shadows.
The light outside the window has completely disappeared, and darkness has completely enveloped the entire world, but the traces of people have not completely stopped. The sound of the rumble of the carriage gradually became louder, and then stopped amidst the shouts of the coachman.
"Master, we are back." The waiter's voice sounded outside the house.
No voice responded to his words, but steady footsteps began to sound, getting closer and closer.
"You can just go and rest." The footsteps stopped at the door, and the young man's voice was slightly hoarse. "Let Patrachi bring me a bowl of oatmeal to relieve my hangover."
"Okay, Master." The waiter's voice was mixed with the sound of the door opening. The shadow of the young prosecutor in the moonlight was projected along the open door. The waiter saluted him and took the hand from him. With his cane and hat, he lit most of the candles in the house, then turned and left the house.
The young prosecutor stood quietly on the somewhat empty ground and made no movement.
"Click." The waiter's careful closing of the door when he left was so obvious in the quiet night. The young prosecutor seemed to have suddenly woken up. He staggered and collapsed on the sofa, looking at it with a dull look. Men, women, animals, plants, and saints looked a little too colorful on the roof.
As if he suddenly remembered something, he quickly sat up and looked at the guitar quietly placed in the closet.
He stood up suddenly, stumbled a bit, took down the guitar that was there, and sat down on the chair next to the closet.
He fiddled with the strings a few times casually, and started playing it seemingly inexpertly. The intermittent sounds of the piano vaguely connected into a somewhat familiar piece of music, and the presence of more than one dissonant note showed that he was almost a complete beginner. identity of.
He finally stopped plucking the strings under his hand and held the guitar in his arms with very irregular movements. The room became completely silent.
"I have a headache..." the young prosecutor's slight voice sounded in the room, "Agyness, please rub it for me..."
He leaned his head against Qin and closed his eyes.
After a long time, his voice sounded in the room again.
"...I'm such an incompetent person..."
...
Agnes opened her eyes, and the scene covered with gray gauze in front of her eyes was completely replaced by the dark blue sky outside the window. She let go of her hand holding the window sill and subconsciously looked at the ring of thorns on the ring finger of her right hand.
"Aurelio is calling you." Huizhen's voice rang in Agnes's ears. She turned around subconsciously and looked at the full-length mirror in the corner.
"I know," Agnes said in a calm voice.
"Do you want to go back and have a look?" Huizhen didn't speak, but Agnes understood what she wanted to say through her dark brown eyes that rarely showed any emotion.
"No, I won't," Agnes said.
Agnes raised her hand to cover the dark brown eyes of the figure in the mirror. The familiar face of the figure gradually became dazzling and blurry in her eyes. She felt that she had difficulty breathing and was dizzy. The scene in front of her was almost nothing but a blur. Vague.
"I have chosen to leave, and I will not stop."
She felt the cracks spreading under her palms, and in her mind she almost imagined the scene of the figure in the mirror gradually breaking as the cracks spread. She could almost imagine those dark brown eyes disappearing in the cracks, but in front of her eyes there were only white blocks mixed with red blocks, and then quietly turning into a chaotic gray.
"Your calamity of establishing the heart has been completed, and the walking corpse syndrome has disappeared," Huizhen's voice sounded in her ears, with a sigh, "and I will be in the next season of the calamity of the heart." It appears before your eyes again."
"Of course, our agreement is valid for a long time," Huizhen's voice gradually became ethereal in his ears, "If you are willing, you will know how to do it."
Agnes put down her uninjured palm, closed her eyes and pressed her chest and took a few deep breaths. She felt that her consciousness seemed to be rising and falling, with each step becoming deeper or shallower. , bright or dark, unpredictable, chaotic and noisy fluctuations rushing towards her, mixing into sharp and harsh noises, drilling into her mind, sadness, joy, resentment, gratitude... It was as if various colors of paint had been poured together, mixing into a thick slurry with no visible color.
She felt as if there were countless small dots of various colors spread out in front of her eyes, most of which were constantly changing, and only a few parts were either pure and calm, or chaotic and turbid.
And there are still a very few. Agnes subconsciously casts her gaze at the small dot wrapped with gray-black mist, and almost subconsciously reaches out her consciousness to brush over the snow-white flowers, and the gray-black mist follows her. Taken away by the caress, the snow-white flowers bring a little clarity and tenderness.
She opened her eyes, and the chaotic gray in front of her eyes almost completely disappeared, leaving only Agnes's figure in her shirt in the broken mirror.
The same pair of eyes are reflected in the fragments, with pure and clear blue, and small black dots appearing and disappearing one by one.
...
The winter morning in the Duxi Bay area is moist and cool, and dewdrops slide down the veins on the leaves.
The young prosecutor woke up to the song of unknown gray birds, heralding a slight gray tint to the clouds on an overcast day.
He sat up, subconsciously raised his hand to press his temples, and raised his eyebrows at the unexpected relief mixed with his physical fatigue.
"Master, I have a little suggestion," the butler holding the tray opened the door and said with an elegant smile, "If you want to stay awake for a while longer at the banquet, ginger ale is a good choice. pretty good idea."
The young prosecutor stood up with a slightly helpless smile.
"Actually, I think I'm in pretty good shape right now, Patrazzi." He said with some inexplicable lack of confidence.
"I also think that the night you played with your guitar last night was very memorable." The butler said with a raised eyebrow.
"Maybe... it's because Agnes rubbed it for me?" the young prosecutor said with a joking tone, but there was an inexplicable excitement in his eyes.
"I think it must be because Miss thinks you should find a qualified guitar teacher."
The young prosecutor shrugged helplessly at the steward's words and looked out the window at the garden that still looked green.
"Maybe." He said slowly.
