[Net King] Pilgrim

The white floc-like rain was pattering down, but the sky was clear and clear to the naked eye.

Machida took a big bite of the blueberry muffin in his hand, rubbed the bread crumbs at the corner of his mouth with his little fingers, and then dropped the food he was chewing with the cold coffee.

It is four o'clock in the afternoon, and she is sitting in the open space in the middle of George Square in Glasgow, looking up from time to time to confirm that the SLR set up in front of her is working normally, and the tone of the recorded footage is harmonious and stable.

In the camera, the last ray of light on the horizon gradually melts into the rolling clouds, and the bright sky above begins to turn gray.

The rain has no tendency to stop, and there are also a few gusts of cold wind.

Counting from lunch, she has been here for three hours, for a few seconds of empty shots of the sunset.Today is one of the few good days in weeks, and she took some time out of her busy final week to gather material.

Well, it's just "good weather" in the forecast.

After finishing the food, Machida looked up at the sky and pouted, "Sure enough, the weather forecast is the most unreliable thing in Glasgow."

While muttering, she lowered her head to pack the garbage into a plastic bag, then stood up and patted her pants.

Fortunately, I was well prepared.

She approached the camera to carefully check the content of the shooting, and nodded in satisfaction.Except for a few places where the lens is blurred due to focusing problems, it basically has everything you want.But after all, it is a SLR, and the requirements should not be too high.

Thinking of this, she seemed to feel better.

Use your upper body to block small raindrops, and carefully remove the waterproof cover and shading department that are set on the machine.

After putting all the equipment properly in the camera bag, she lifted the hood of the sweater to cover her head, tightened the washed blue denim jacket, then picked up the schoolbag on the ground, put it on her shoulders, and left the square.

The temperature in Glasgow at the end of November is cold, and the humid air is filled with the aroma of baked muffins and fresh grass. The Christmas market not far away is very lively and crowded with people.

Machida took a step and threw the garbage bag into the trash can on the side of the road, and walked towards the subway station.

Like most pedestrians, her steps are not in a hurry, there is a thin layer of water droplets on the Martin boots, and her figure is embedded in the city when the lights are just on, looking casual and flamboyant.

After waiting for the traffic lights, she pulled out the earphones from her backpack, perhaps because she was carrying a camera bag in her other hand, her movements seemed a bit strenuous.

The corner of the intersection closest to her was a bar, and there were bursts of clapping and applauding from inside. With the loud cheers erupting at the end, Machida was finally so startled that his hands shook and he took out the earphones that he had finally taken out. fell in a puddle.

"Shi*...!"

She rolled her huge eyes in her heart, bent down to pick up the earphones that had been dead, and glanced at the door of the bar.

Time slowed down instantly at that moment, and everything around was as still as water in a sluice.

The indoor TV is hung above the wall, and the fluorescence of the screen is particularly eye-catching in the dim yellow room.

The words "ATPFinalsLive" are displayed in the upper right corner of the screen.

She saw the camera slowly sweeping across the auditorium, large crowds of people shouting and cheering one after another.

Machida suddenly felt her heart beating violently, and her fingers, which were a little red from the cold, unconsciously clenched the schoolbag strap on one side. She breathed very lightly, and white mist came out of her mouth.

The next moment the camera cut, as the narrator couldn't help repeating "Echizenwonthefinals! Whatablastthisfinalshasbeen!" loudly, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her heartbeat slowly calmed down.

Then she saw under the bright lights in the tennis court, the teenager with a wanton smile running towards the rest area beside the court, hugging the [-]-year-old coach who was standing by the side all the time.The latter also hugged him back hard, patting his back and saying "Well done!" proudly.

The game will be broadcast live on the Greenwich peninsula in southeast London.

Machida had never been there, but she knew that Glasgow was less than four hundred miles from London, about ten hours by bus, five by train, and an hour and a half by plane.

This should be the closest moment between her and Echizen Ryoma since the first grade of junior high school ended eight years ago.

Pedestrians gradually stopped at the entrance of the bar to watch the small square screen inside, and the heat-like air in the room rushed outside, hitting their cheeks gently.

She lowered her head and took out her mobile phone from her pocket, picked out a familiar number and sent a text message, then clicked on the Amazon interface, and ordered a pair of original earphones without hesitation.

The live broadcast was over, Machida put his phone back into his pocket, sniffed, turned and crossed the road.

She only felt that her whole body began to warm up, a smile twitched on her lips, and said in a low voice, "Congratulations."