To my frozen hometown

Chapter 36 No. 230 Three, Rose Street

"To paint a picture?" Jester obviously couldn't understand what De Rosso had to do.

In his opinion, if he was dying, he would spend all his time enjoying his last life.It must be admitted that this is also a form of relief.

"Yes." But De Rosso just affirmed his doubts flatly, fiddling with the tin can of broth in his hand.

"That's how I've been educated since childhood."

The boy lowered his eyes slightly, as if remembering something, with a faint smile on his mouth.

He was born in the garbage, but grew up in the canvas and paint.

He has seen the most dilapidated appearance of this world, and he has also seen the most beautiful scenery of this world.

So he knows how to choose between the two.

For De Rosso, his memory is already full of the beautiful scenery left by the old painter.

He was a lucky man, De Rosso always thought so.

Because the old painter spent his whole life creating a moving dream for him.

On the first day De Rosso was adopted by the old painter, he didn't say a word, he just closed his lips tightly and carefully looked at everything around him.

The old painter probably saw the uneasiness and fear in his heart, so he prepared warm wolf's milk and jerky for him, while he walked aside and drew a picture.

Thus, De Rosso's dream began.

In the next ten years, the old painter used that brush to paint countless scenery for De Rosso.

There are starry sky, flying snow, homes with warm light and enthusiastic crowds.

They are like fragments of reality, allowing De Rosso to be in it.

It seems that every painting is a corner of the world, and all the paintings are combined to form a complete world.

A world that is completely different from reality, a beautiful, warm, and bright world.

The place is bustling, the streets are always crowded with people celebrating, the sky is sunny, and the houses on both sides are scattered, with blue or red bricks on top.Flowers are blooming by the windows and in the corners of the walls, and beautiful girls are dancing in the square in moving dresses.

The musicians played all day long, and it seemed that the festival would never end.The children walked through the streets and received the candies distributed by the adults.

The clown in the circus was selling balloons, and accidentally broke another one, so that he was depressed.The bearded drunks were arm in arm, with their waists tucked in, drinking wine.

This is the dream that the old painter created especially for De Rosso. In that small studio, he was able to forget all the pain in reality.

Almost every night, the old painter would tell De Rosso a story about those paintings and the people in those paintings.

The magician and the hare, the hunter and the dog, the sausages of Old Cherloft, the girl of the Romansters.All the stories are so real, every detail seems to be connected together.

As if that world really existed, as if that world was right in front of you.

Until the day before the death of the old painter, he was still creating for De Rosso.

Sitting on a chaise longue, he painted the last painting for De Rosso.

A self-portrait of him. In the painting, he is sitting in a small hut and spending his old age peacefully.

There was a fire under the fireplace, and black tea and pastries were placed on the table.The walls on all sides are made of red bricks, and the floor is covered with wooden floors.There are red and purple flowers planted by the window sill, and there is a black cat wagging its tail lying on the bookcase.

He lived next door to Old Cherloft's, so he was always able to share the other's sausages.

The old painter said to De Rosso: I will wait for you in that room.

When you come, I will ask the hunter to bring the dog and go hunting in the mountains with you. If I remember correctly, that is what you most wanted to do when you were young.

When you come, I will ask the magician to specially transform a rabbit for you. It will have snow-white fur and light red eyes.

When you come, I will take you to the city to participate in the celebration. If you are still single, I will find the most beautiful girl and let her dance with you.

Remember, talk more to please her, wear a handsome outfit, and clean your hair.

That way, you can make a good impression on the other party.

Don't forget, prepare a bouquet of flowers. Your mother lives at No. 230 Rose Street. When you are ready, I will take you to her.

Believe me, she must still love you, she will hug you, kiss you, she will cry with joy.

At that time, you must hold her tightly, wipe away her tears, and present flowers to her.

You have to tell her that you love her too, you have to say it ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times until she stops crying.

You know, she has missed you for too long.

You know, she definitely didn't mean to abandon you.

······

The old painter passed away during the narration, and De Rosso cried, but he was not full of sadness.

He believed that the old painter would live well in that world.

He also believed that he would eventually meet the other party there.

De Rosso is really a very lucky person, because he grew up in a dream and will die in a dream.

"Mr. De Rosso, I didn't say that if you want to paint a picture, you can actually do it anywhere. At the end of the heart swelling, the onset is very painful, and the treatment can at least make you feel better."

Kent hesitated, and said aloud.

He had a friend's wife who died of cardiomyopathy, so he knew what kind of suffocating pain would torture a person.

"No." But De Rosso shook his head and said affirmatively.

"That painting must be painted on that ice wall."

"Why?" Maika frowned and asked puzzledly.

"Because, I'm going to create a dream for everyone who can see this painting."

As De Rosso said, he wants to leave a treasure for this world.

A treasure enough to remember the past and look forward to the future.

A treasure that is big enough to see all that is good.

Even if it's not real, even if it's just a dream.

But De Rosso still wants to share his luck.

He believes that one day the world will become extremely beautiful again, people will remember the appearance of the celebration, people will sing and dance, indulge in flowers and sunshine.

He believed that one day his paintings would melt with the ice and snow and be replaced by real beauty, which would no longer have any meaning and be forgotten in the memory of the past.

At that time, he must have lived a happy life at 230 [-] Rose Street.

At that time, all the sweet dreams will have no regrets.

······

For everyone who can see this painting.

Listening to De Rosso's speech, Jester suddenly remembered the nearly [-] boxes of ore paint that the other party put in the supply compartment, twitched the corner of his mouth, and asked aloud.

"I said, you don't want to paint a picture as high as the ice wall, do you?"

"That's right." De Rosso hooked the corner of his mouth and smiled.

"Believe me, it will shine brightest in the direction where the sun rises."

(End of this chapter)