Blade and Poetry

All the doubts accumulated in my heart for a long time were suppressed by me.I think that since I have confirmed my love for him, I must let it accompany my whole trust, instead of chasing rumors in this limited year.

I took all my dreams as fantasies.I began to pursue him--or rather, in a dark way in my own judgment began to pursue him.

I researched the recipes of all kinds of desserts, hoping to give them as gifts: including caramel cookies that scream when they come out of the oven, cakes that bloom with whipped cream flowers after the first cut, gingerbread cookies that change expressions according to the humidity of the air villain.I was always able to make finished products the first time, but they were often ugly, so these weird-looking failed products were eliminated by me and him.

I also decorated his room with flowers.My observation ability was really not sharp in some respects, and it was not until a long time later that I discovered that his bedroom was opposite to mine. At night, I stood behind my own door and watched him enter the opposite side through the crack of the door.He came out again within half a minute, expressed his admiration across a corridor, and we played divination in his bedroom.

I found quite a few interesting gadgets from one of his junk storage rooms.Among them was a palm-sized wind crane, and if someone put it by the wide-open window in a stormy day, it would turn its bald tail and feathers, and hum hoarsely the melody of an old song.I got the functional explanation from Karajan, put it in the window on a rainy day, and we passed out for a while, before I bent down before him and asked him to dance with me.He put his hand in mine.We spun, our cheeks pressed against the fine raindrops flying outside the window countless times.His eyes at that time seemed to be different from when we used to laugh and laugh. For the first time, I felt that he really had something he couldn't talk about.But I also have things I can't confide in; I wish I could tell him the feelings I have for him first.

So I asked him if there was a good place for something fascinating to happen lately.

"On the night of New Year's Eve, you can see the barren constellations from here. Only here at zero o'clock that night can you receive its light." He said, "Would you like to watch it with me?"

Of course I agree.

My quest seemed odd; after all, I was inexperienced, or so I could tell after amnesia.I'm not even sure if I'm approaching that landmark or if I've already crossed it.

It's just that every time I conceive of a confession, I always think of his slightly sad eyes on rainy days.Their blooming souls danced with himself, recurring again and again with my dream appearance.

During the last week of December, I continued to sneak into Karajan's bedroom every now and then, with the tacit approval of my master, to read him a bedtime story to help him fall asleep.His complexion is much better than when I first saw him, no longer like he used to fall asleep and wake up in the early morning at the same time.Once I read to him the fourth volume of "The Kingdom of the Deep Mountains" that he appointed, and I changed the ending vividly: the protagonist's winged horse got a thorn in the hoof, and the market price of horses soared and the supply exceeded the demand, so he couldn't buy new horses. Time cannot enter the deep mountain country, and finally ushered in the catastrophe outside the mountain together with everyone, and was destroyed in the catastrophe.

Karajan was sleepy at first, but his brows became more and more wrinkled. Finally, when he heard me say "the full text is over", he opened his eyes and sat up, and had a fight with me on the bed. A heavy stroke.

We were very sleepy after the fight - I only planned to take a nap in his bed, but I fell asleep wrapped in the quilt and didn't wake up until the morning.During this period, I had another dream, which also contained the shadow of Karajan.

I sat among the people dressed as students in the first row, wishing the people at the same table to my left and right a happy birthday—about their birthdays happened on the same day.Karajan seemed to be facing us, stood in front of a podium, rummaged in his handbag for a moment, dug out two chocolates, and threw one to each of them.

"My favorite chocolate, Frost Lava," he said. "Happy birthday to you both."

I hear people around me thank you.Their voices were mixed together, blurred for a moment.

"Thank you Mr. Karajan," someone said, "thank you Professor Karajan".

Maybe it was because my eyes were too eager to bet on the chocolate, Karajan smiled, quickly changed the trajectory of his hands, went to the bag to find another piece, and threw it into my hand.

"It's not my birthday..." I said.

He nodded to the people on my left and right, and said righteously: "You sit between the two of them."

The dream was not long, and I opened my eyes as soon as it was over.Karajan next to me seemed to have just woken up, with a sleepy look on his face.

I automatically said, "What's your favorite brand of chocolate?"

"Frost Lava," I heard him say.

I'm wide awake.I tucked the quilt in for him, and with the answer to this question—the answer to a question I had never voluntarily asked before—I wandered back to my room.

I sat in a daze on the bed in the room for a while, and suddenly saw the thick "Encyclopedia of Magic and Spells" beside my bed, and stretched out my hand towards it like a nightmare.I already had an idea in my heart, but my hand slowly flipped through it as if aimlessly.My eyes finally locked on a page.The page began in pale blue letters:

"[i] Amnesia Curse[/i]".

I moved my eyes and continued to read down.

"Because 'casting amnesia spells on others without medical permission' has already constituted the crime listed in Article 3010 of the "East and West Parallel Law", this book will not add specific steps for casting amnesia spells, Only here is a brief introduction to some other related knowledge of the amnesia spell.

"Extreme fear, fright, grief, brain trauma and a series of external causes may cause a person's amnesia. Among all the factors causing amnesia, only the law of amnesia spell can be followed.

"The amnesia spell only targets one point: to make the person under the curse forget the caster.

"But the effect of the amnesia spell actually goes far beyond what is stated above. Its scope of effect has a center—that is the caster.

"The lost memory of the cursed person includes not only the spellcaster himself, but also all the associative memories related to the spellcaster. If the cursed person only had a relationship with the cursed person once, he may only lose less than half a minute If the caster of the spell interacts with him a lot, or makes him think, measure and miss all the time, then the circle will expand, and a large area of ​​memory will be lost by the spell caster at the same time. , whether or not the caster was actually present in that past.

"Compared to other amnesia factors, the characteristics of the amnesia spell make it quite mild, and it is also surprising that it is rarely captured by the effectiveness of the amnesia spell in areas that are classified as 'knowledge' by the brain.

"According to official records, the Amnesia Curse must be unraveled by the caster himself in order to achieve the effect of 'quick, harmless, and comprehensive memory recovery'. However, other methods of lifting the Amnesia Curse have long been rumored among the people; many people have been cursed The victim once claimed that he met a good doctor and his health improved."

This concludes the introduction to the amnesia spell.I pushed the book aside, lay down on the bed, and mentally listed all the symptoms since my memory loss.Each of them can match the description in the book.

I also listed every dream I had around Karajan, fantasizing that each one of them was real.

I washed hastily, ate breakfast without food, deliberately avoided the route that Karajan might have passed, and walked to the door of the library.I know he never goes into the library in the morning.

I also don't know what I'm looking for.I asked myself questions almost harshly in my heart, dug out every dusty detail and wiped it.I saw Columbus on the spine of the book here before, and vaguely remembered that was my nationality, so I acquiesced that I still stayed in this country; I agree that the characteristics of swordsman and magician coexist, although there has never been a book The book insinuates this; I don't question Karajan's claims alone.

But now I have found out from an astronomical book that the star clusters can only be seen from the second city of a country called "Puguo"; Coexistence, the lucky ones will divide the magic branch at the age of ten; there are lies behind Karajan's rhetoric.

Of course I can guess who is standing on my "center".The person I had completely forgotten at the beginning, the person who was with me day and night after amnesia, the most suspicious person, and who inexplicably returned with all my dreams.

Why did he keep me in the fortress, why is it limited to one year?He has repeatedly denied his existence, apparently ignorant of the return of my memory, so who saved my past?He treats me well in and out of the dream, what is the reason?

I have too many doubts, but I think I should sort them out.I should let them become a coherent piece of text, first seen by myself, and then said from my mouth, spread flat in front of Karajan; not affected by anger and loss, and not loved.

I temporarily kept those questions in my mouth, and when I occasionally met Karajan, they only turned into a short greeting.I hurriedly avoided the place where he walked.But fortunately, the New Year's Eve is coming soon, and I think I will tell him everything that night—maybe I just changed the content of "everything" compared to my original plan.

I had a dream the night before New Years Eve - no surprises.It happened one night, a small river a few steps wide was covered with green grass growing on both sides, and it was still full of students in familiar uniforms I had dreamed about before, and those students crowded with me on both sides of the river bank.Someone turned his back from facing the river, raised his outstretched right hand, and shouted, "Happy New Year!"

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone shouted "Happy New Year" at the same time, and someone threw the glow-in-the-dark grass in their hands at him, scattering it in a mess.It seems that there are his friends, some simple hecklers, and some people who are full of affection for him.

"Whoever throws it is whoever it is!" A group of people laughed, "Throw it into the palm of your hand, and we will grow old together!"

"Really? Is there such an effect?" I poked my head around.

A man wearing rimless glasses next to me said: "This is the custom of Hoftas. Because you never come out to celebrate the New Year."

"I'm struggling with training," I said, "look at me—I'm going to make up all my previous years' weight this time."

So I burrowed towards the river bank, turned around quickly when I got there, and raised my right hand.

"New—" I shouted with a drawn out voice.

"Happy New Year!" Someone quickly completed my sentence from a distance.

I paused in a daze, and then my hand was hit by the first fluorescent grass that flew over; immediately after, the group of onlookers in front of me simply became generous and threw the grass in their hands at me body.

"I'm not finished yet, who threw the first one!" I yelled, but my voice was completely drowned out by laughter.

My previous friend was calm, kind, and observant.He faithfully answered my previous question:

"It's Professor Karajan, who is going to the free world."

I ran quickly towards the distance, and finally caught up with Karajan in a bush.We started to set the knife, or he taught me how to practice the knife.We fought for a while, and then it seemed like a certain time limit came and I had to retract the knife.I chatted with him; then inexplicably digressed.

"I'm probably half an atheist," I heard myself say, "only when I'm tired—although I don't know what I believe in either."

"Then are you willing to let me be your belief?" He smiled and leaned on the tree very leisurely, "in case of fatigue."

"My belief—if there is any," I was unconsciously raising the corner of my mouth, "is to accompany me until I grow old and die."

"Then are you willing to let me be your belief?" He asked without saying a word.

I don't know what answer I made, because the dream ended here.

It was the early morning of December 31st.Vicente Xiao, who had recovered half of his memory, was still full of doubts, but this dream erased one of them.

—I don't think I need to ask him any more about the "for what reason" question.

I came to the terrace late at night as scheduled and saw Karajan waiting there.

It was cold outside and we all wrapped up in extra layers of clothing.The branches of the shrubs below, lighted with fresh snow, looked thin and thin, like withered hands stretched upward; white clematis bloomed in clumps.We waited silently for the change of the sky, and there was a distance between the arms on the terrace.

There is no cloud at all in this dark night.Layers of milky white gauze mist were blown across the sky; they seemed to be blown aside by the wind, kneading into various light and transparent shapes, and then dissipated little by little, retreating into the black night sky.Then small stars popped up, seeming to converge into a long river.When a layer of mist was pushed away again, the spiral light cluster formed by a large star behind it gradually became clear.There are icy blue, mysterious and warm dark purple, and sharp bright white, which spread wider and wider, drowning the light of broken stars behind.The gap leading to the back of the sky seems to be melted away, extending the ultimate beauty in a glimpse.

"It's so beautiful." I looked up and said, "It's not like night."

"It's beautiful," he said, "Dubai's poem: You are like the stars in the night, and the stars in the night are like you."

"Is it already zero o'clock?"

"Here we are," Karajan said.

"Happy New Years then," I said.

"Happy New Year," he said too.

I looked at him and knew he had more to say than that.

I have seen too many hesitations in his eyes—they roll up once, then fade once, wither for the struggling pain below, and are buried for silence again and again; because I have known him lies, they are too obvious to me, exposed to daylight or starlight alike.

I suddenly wondered how he would react if I called him "professor" at this moment.But I can't say that.When I looked into his eyes, there was no way I could throw out such a sentence.

I sighed.

"You told me that basic knowledge and intuition are never forgotten. I wonder now—Karajan," I said, "Have I ever forgotten my love for you?"

His hand slipped from the balcony and hung slightly unsteadily by his side.

"I don't know," he said. "You never told me that before. Do you have it now?"

"Yes," I said, "I am in love with you right now."

Those incomparably bright stars were hanging above our heads, but the light in his eyes was even brighter than those stars, and it burst to the peak at this time-the brighter it is, the more painful it is.

"Then what about the past?" He said softly, "Did you also love me in the past?"

I think he forgot the story he had made up for me at this moment.Perhaps it was a confession that he was having trouble uttering.He didn't know at all that he himself seemed so urgent and desperate, as if protruding out of a tiny expectation, contradictory and chaotic, it was hard to say what he was begging for; whether it was an affirmative answer, or some kind of forgiveness that could not be obtained.

My heart suddenly became extremely sour.

"Trust me—I know myself," I said quietly. "If you were in Vicente's past, he would love you too."

Karajan opened his arms to me.It was a hesitant, uncertain embrace, crumbling.I stepped forward and took his right hand.He wrapped his other arm around me, pressing against my back.

"I love you too, Vicente..." he whispered in my ear, "I have never met such a person before, and I don't think I will ever meet such a person again."

I silently recited the incantation to construct the Butterfly Oath.My red-tipped butterfly emerged from my fingertips, landed lightly on his overlapping right hand, and then flew around behind him before disappearing into the air—that was once The butterfly oath was concluded, so the traces of failure were reconstructed.

"I love you too," he said.

That last line is so insignificant, like McCaw's "like dust"—a line that cannot be traced, unspoken: "Forgive me."I couldn't help but sigh again.

I pressed against his warm neck and thought: But this world is so... small, let's forget it.

I reached out and grabbed his collar, looked at him for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed him.

He froze and remained motionless at first, and then he seemed to wake up suddenly, attacking me out of reason.The heat of our lips and tongues mingled together, and even the stars in the winter night above our heads became hot.They swirl with light and shadows, sucking people into an endless vortex, in which love, pain and desire are all inseparable.I tore off the string that bound his hair, and we staggered, tangled, toward the house.Our clothes were thrown together, our bodies overlapped like those messy garments, one fold nestled perfectly into the other.

Sweat blurred my eyes, and it was licked and kissed away by Karajan.I clutched him hard, fingers or any piece of skin; I longed to be more, more deeply close to him, everything in me was completely open to him.Our hot breaths mingled, pouring all the unruly, unapproved madness into the night.In my confusion, I faintly heard myself calling, and recognized a few times his name.

There was a fiery wave pushing us up and down, and I was occasionally lifted to the surface of the water to breathe out, and then I was quickly approaching suffocation at the bottom of the water.This went back and forth many times, and we cuddled together exhausted.The hands of the bedside clock have turned several times, and the starlight outside the window has returned to its original sparse and quiet appearance.I hugged him and he kissed my lips again.