Started with a green hat for Verlaine

How could this be the problem?

In the face of a sad lover, no one in this world would choose a body, right?

Ma Shengqiu also froze for a long time, met Arthur Rimbaud's eyes as if he was waiting for the most important answer in the world, and put his beating heart back. There is no reason to hesitate, he has chosen the soul twice , follow the heart and say: "I choose your soul."

Arthur Rimbaud laughed, and the tears that hung from his eyelashes fell and left a trail of tears on his cheek.

"Qiuya, give me your hand."

Ma Shengqiu also felt a strong sense of sight, felt uneasy again, and gave him his left hand nervously.

Arthur Rimbaud took off the gloves he had been wearing all year round, and they were new for an unknown number of generations.He showed Aso Qiuya an elegant French wedding ring with pale, clean five fingers, stroked the other's left hand with the pulp of his fingers, and then turned the palm of Aso Qiuya's left hand over.

"What is my soul like?"

he asked expectantly.

Ma Shengqiu also took a deep breath, and was about to answer Gentle, but the answer was a bit vague, Wenye did not describe in detail Lantang's character before amnesia, and he didn't even have the other party's formula book, all he could refer to was the three-dimensional in his mind In the evaluation of Arthur Rimbaud, this person is chasing freedom in his bones, tired of living the same life as others, and will take revenge in extreme anger after being deceived by love.

Ma Shengqiu couldn't help but said: "Your soul is dazzling and free, love will not bind you, and you will be famous in history without supernatural powers."

Arthur Rimbaud raised the corners of his lips: "What will I use to leave my name?"

Ma Shengqiu also blurted out: "Poetry."

Arthur Rimbaud has published two collections of poetry and has long been famous in the French literary world.

This has the credit for cultivating the other party to become a poet, and it is more of Arthur Rimbaud's own talent for lighting up poetry and creating a surrealist poetry genre.

Arthur Rimbaud said in a low voice: "You just praise my poetry like that? Think it has reached the level of being famous in history?"

As a fan of Rimbaud's poetry, Ma Shengqiu reminded him every day, and said happily: "Your previous works are already so good, and they will definitely be even better in the future. When we lose our jobs and travel abroad, you You can write poetry while traveling, I will be responsible for publishing your poetry, let me enjoy a life lying on the copyright fee of poetry."

Arthur Rimbaud felt an incomparable chill.

Poetry, poetry again, this person ignores his ability to be engraved in French historical files, and only pays attention to the existence of poetry. Could it be that he who stands out in France is not as good as a poet?

"Qiuya, you really appreciate talents... No wonder you like souls." Arthur Rimbaud's complexity was indescribable.

"This is different. There are many talents. I like the unique Arthur Rimbaud." Ma Shengqiu also thought that he had chosen the right answer, so he couldn't help but say a few more words, "I am very lucky to meet You, in love with you, for this, I would rather have your name tattooed on my body."

Not to mention tattoos.

The mention of tattoos made Arthur Rimbaud short of breath.

This man did not allow him to tattoo the name "Lantang", but asked him to practice his real name in French - "Artier Rimbaud", and branded this name on his intimate lower back.

At that time... what did this man say?

Japanese is not good-looking?

Arthur Rimbaud stared at him for three seconds, then picked up the table knife between the flashes and flints, inserted it into Ma Shengqiuya's open palm, and firmly nailed it to the table! ! !

"Ahhh-!"

Ma Shengqiu also watched the mountain collapse without changing his face, and his face immediately twisted. The knife was not thin enough, and it was not sharp enough, which brought a strong dull pain after tearing the flesh.

The port mafia leader screamed under the pain in his palm.

The screams suddenly appeared in the too quiet atmosphere, even people passing by outside the bar could hear it!The bar manager and public relations officer who were afraid to speak at the side froze collectively.

Is it useful to say "protect the leader" at this time?The cadre is stabbing the leader!

Reasonable, the bar manager can escape, but the public relations officer who is a quasi-cadre of Hong Kong and black cannot, he has to step forward to stop: "Mr. Lantang, please stop hurting the leader, do you want to commit the following crimes, for the sake of a moment Are you impulsive, violating the rules laid down by the port mafia with blood..."

"Get out!"

Arthur Rimbaud opened the "Painting Book" angrily, and used the warp to drive people out.

The world outside the warp is silenced.

The interior returns to silence.

For Aso Qiuya, there is no safer and more dangerous conversation environment than here.

Ma Shengqiu couldn't stand still, bent down, his hands were nailed to the table and bled, his pupils constricted, and he was a little stiff in disbelief: "You... even... remember this?"

Arthur Rimbaud quipped: "Yeah, I haven't written poetry."

The 30-year-old French man said slowly with a cold expression more terrifying than anger.

"Eight years ago, I didn't know you at all."

"The black hat doesn't belong to me, it's a birthday present from my family and friends."

"Poetry is not mine either. I haven't systematically learned how to write poetry. Most of my life is spent in special circumstances. How do you ask me to write poetry that will last forever?"

"The Japanese name Lantang is not mine."

"Up to now, I can no longer lie to myself... none of this is your lie."

"Aso Qiuya."

"Stretch out your other hand, and I ask you, who do you take me for?"

Facing Arthur Rimbaud's cold and stern face, the golden-green eyes no longer had the tenderness of the past. Ma Shengqiu also closed his eyes due to the sense of danger coming to his face, and the nerves in his hands danced like bouncing, and even his forehead The cold sweat kept slipping down, and the veins in his wrists tensed.After a few seconds, he placed his good right hand on the table between the two of them, palm facing up, and spread it consciously.

"It's my biggest secret."

Ma Shengqiu also explained the origin of his time traveler in a different way, "I once... accidentally saw multiple parallel time and space, and saw a little bit of the future."

"You in that world are a famous French poet."

"I admire your talent and sympathize with you for leaving the world early because of illness... So, I lied to you in this world, lied to you that you can write poetry, lied to you that I am a lover..."

"I won't apologize to you. Apologies are useless. You hate people who say sorry."

"I want you to remember me."

"I want you to remember that you were scammed by a common man."

"I want you to look at me in surprise and anger after recovering your memory. I can actually deceive you for eight years! I can actually use love to construct a true lie!"

"I waited with my life for this day—waiting to express my lofty love to you!"

"Artille Rimbaud!"

"You are a shooting star across the sky of France. You are known as a genius who 'lights up the world while destroying himself'. I admire your soul and rejoice for your strength!"

The more he talked, Ma Shengqiu also tried his best to make himself laugh, his eyes were crazy.

Pain is nothing!

As long as you don't wipe his neck!

He wandered in the love between heaven and hell for eight years, savoring the excitement of life and death, love to the point of paranoia, almost to the point where another person would collapse if he knew the truth.

But eight years ago, he had no choice but no confidence. How could a toad eat swan meat?

Only deceit, only madness!

Arthur Rimbaud was shocked by Aso Qiuya's unprecedented expression. The black-haired man's face was no longer an elegant smile, but a distorted extreme love that could dig out his heart and show him.The pain and the showdown tore up the daily side of Aso Akiya, and the other party showed him all the "inside".

What a madman.

A French poet in parallel time and space... This kind of thing that has no scientific basis actually exists in reality, and has Ma Shengqiu really seen his "self" in parallel time and space?

If you love me...you love "me"...

Arthur Rimbaud hints at the last hint of anticipation: "What is the other man like?"

Ma Shengqiu also excitedly said, "It's you with blond hair and blue eyes in the painting."

He had long thought of a public answer.

Falling in love with "Ranbo" in parallel time and space, he wanted to save Lan Tang in this world. He didn't lie. He deeply sympathized with Lan Tang, who was betrayed by his partner and still died in love.

Lantang has the reflection of the three-dimensional "Rimbo", and can create poems he likes.

11>2 ah!

He can not only get a life-and-death love, but also satisfy his desire to pursue poetry, change fate, and save others. He has done it all in Wenye's world!

"Lan Tang, every person in parallel time and space will have some subtle differences. The sprout of my feelings for you originated from parallel time and space, but I know and meet you in this world!"

Arthur Rimbaud just lit up a little, and the world fell into darkness again. The people on the portrait... Hehe, how sad, Ma Shengqiu also kept saying that he loved him, but he still loved the wrong person.

Eight years.

All your mad love is for another man named "Artille Rimbaud".The me by your side - not the blond hair and blue eyes you expected, not the unruly wind you want to catch.

Arthur Rimbaud's eyes were suddenly empty, "You are crazy."

Ma Shengqiu also retorted: "I'm not crazy! I decided eight years ago that I would never lie to you again. Even if you are angry, I have to explain to you clearly that I only cheated on your love at the beginning."

"Hey!"

The second knife pierced Aso Akiya's right hand!

Arthur Rimbaud firmly pressed down on the table knife and his struggling right hand. Hot blood flowed all over the table. He didn't even try to expose the wrong person, but screamed, "You're crazy!"

Ma Shengqiu also staggered, unable to raise his hands, looked at him in shock and pain.

At this moment, who is crazy?

—It was two people.

The truth Arthur Rimbaud was looking for was not that he became a substitute, but that Ma Shengqiu also cultivated him in the shadow of another person, who made him a French poet, complementing other people's poems and giving him a blank memory Fill in other people's colors and trample his self-esteem into the dust!

Arthur Rimbaud should have killed Shuya Aso!Kill the man who lied to him for eight years!

However, he couldn't do it.

Knowing that it was the flower of love that was a lie, he glimpsed the gorgeous beauty, and looked down again. Ma Shengqiu also planted the root of love in the hearts of the two, and what he drew was not the blood of one person.

Arthur Rimbaud's eyes were filled with tears and humiliated hatred.

Instead of using an ordinary table knife, he took out a sharp medical scalpel from the subspace of the "color painting collection", and easily inserted it into the chest of the man who was once reluctant to hurt.

If he doesn't vent his hatred and take revenge on this liar, he will go crazy, and he will definitely collapse before Ma Shengqiu goes crazy too!

He understood Mr. Baudelaire's intention: wait for the two to go to France before settling accounts.

He can't wait for the day when he goes to France, he is afraid that he will be angry to death in Japan.The love I thought was probably not a ridiculous big lie in the eyes of the teacher who made a thorough investigation.

He sank himself into it, and his soul wept bitterly.

Human beings are such different animals, that's why the devil laughs at the hypocrisy of human beings!

"I hate liars!"

A knife.

"I hate people who counted on me for eight years!"

Two swords.

"I hate flatterers!"

Three knives.

"I hate people who say I'm hard to keep like the wind!"

Four knives.

"I hate people who trick me into getting married and shed tears saying that they are moved!"

Five knives.

"I hate people who fool my memory!"

Six knives.

"I hate people who force me to write poetry!"

seven knives.

"I hate how affectionate you are performing in front of me!"

Eight knives.

"I hate your poetry books, your portraits, everything you send me with purpose!"

Nine knives.

"I hate it when you use me to satisfy your own shady hobbies."

Ten knives.

"I hate ordinary people who are arrogant."

……

A full 36 knives, bloody!

All the mistakes Ma Shengqiu made in the past eight years were retaliated by Arthur Rimbaud. Ma Shengqiu also felt the pain in his whole body transmitted to his brain, and stared blankly at his chest.

The legendary medical expert can guarantee that you will not be fatal if you are stabbed dozens of times.

Pain is real.

The last scalpel sank between the ribs and grazed the heart. Aso Qiuya's heartbeat almost stopped. The white shirt in the suit was stained with blood, and his whole body was covered with injuries.And these pains are far less than the place where he was stung by Arthur Rimbaud's 36 sentences, and his despicable soul trembled.

Ma Shengqiu also forgot the voice, leaning against the table, the fake smile disappeared from his face.

He loses madness.

He was sobbing quietly and humbly.

There are two sad lovers in a bar, and it is hard to tell who is sadder.

Arthur Rimbaud let go of his hand, and looked at the last knife that was inserted into the opponent's chest and ribs. The blade was too thin, and as long as it was not pulled out, blood would not flow out, as if they were raining in their hearts.He tried to keep his breath from panting for the other party, and gave a liar an unforgettable lesson in a steady, indifferent tone, "I hate all your hypocrisy, Aso Qiuya."

The man who almost never cried hung his head, the tip of his chin was full of tears.

No one can predict the heart.

Before today, Ma Shengqiu also unilaterally thought that Arthur Rimbaud would forgive him, even if he made a mistake first, the crime would not be death, as long as the other party didn't kill him, it meant he still loved him.

He firmly believed that he was not afraid of any pain, and Yosano Akiko gave him such confidence.

Not to mention piercing his hands and giving him as many knives to vent his anger, as long as he is given a breath, he can be divided into five horses!He can be crazy for each other to the end!

But he forgot... Why do you need to stab a knife in the heart to kill someone, just kill the heart.

Ma Shengqiu was also defeated.

The pure white and hesitant Lantang has become a thing of the past.

Standing in front of him was Arthur Rimbaud, a French man with self-respect, fatherland, teacher and complete self-knowledge, definitely not a wife willing to endure in lies.

"You did a stupid thing and saved me. You can ask for my life-saving grace in a normal way, but you chose the worst path...you told a big lie."

"You don't believe in yourself, and you don't believe in me. You would rather believe in a parallel time and space that you have never been to."

"I'm just like the 'wind', is it difficult for you to catch me?"

"See for yourself—"

"Who is the person who stayed with you for eight years?"

Arthur Rimbaud's questioning was slightly smiling, and it was the desolation that he could only know.

"I'm Lan Tang, the person who believed your words the first time we met after amnesia."

"I'm Arthur Rimbaud again. After recovering my memory, I was hugged and had sex with you on the bed. I wanted to strangle this person who offended me, but I couldn't kill him."

Aso Qiuya's body trembled, the time Lantang recovered his memory - was it on the bed?

I vaguely remember that my lover's arms hugged my neck tightly, strangling him, and then I relaxed under his cry, and looked at myself with a flushed face, as if I suddenly felt shy.

Arthur Rimbaud's words lingered in their ears.

"I used to hate your pain."

"However, you have to taste the bitter fruit you brewed today, and no one gives you immunity."

"listen."

"Our past marriage is over. You can take back all the assets you gave to Lantang. I will go back to France to see the teacher alone. You can do it yourself."

Arthur Rimbaud slowly pulled out the scalpel and threw it aside, the scalpel made a crisp collision sound.Arthur Rimbaud lowered his head and kissed the ring on Aso Akiya's left ring finger. The man's left hand was trying to break free from the table knife, his fingers were moving with difficulty, and the fingertips rubbed against Arthur Rimbaud's cheek.

Their love was once as beautiful as a custom-made wedding ring.

After Arthur Rimbaud recovered his memory——

Everything has changed.

Perfect love does not exist in reality, even for those who are praised and envied by everyone.

Afterwards, Arthur Rimbaud completed his farewell ceremony, and the unbroken lingering gave Ma Shengqiu a glimmer of hope. Was Lan Tang giving himself a chance to keep it?

The fragments of the supernatural power crystallization were not taken away, and the wedding ring was also there.

"Don't go!"

Aso Qiu also instinctively shouted, the sound of Arthur Rimbaud's footsteps was receding.

Ma Shengqiu was also on the verge of shock, and a will to support him with mixed sorrow and joy made him drag another person he had never met to die without hesitation: "One thing is true, Verlaine betrayed France, Caused you serious injury and amnesia, he is a selfish person, and in parallel time and space, he is even a scumbag who abandoned his wife and children, he is not worthy of your trust at all."

Arthur Rimbaud paused in pushing the door open, and stepped into the winter night without looking back.

"Really? I remember."

……

A scumbag who abandoned his wife and children?

Paul Verlaine in your eyes...was this what he looked like?

Thank you so much for your reminder.

……

"Silent Heart Song: Melancholy": Roses are all so gorgeous, and ivy is all so dark.Dear, my disappointment is so deep, as long as you turn your head a little to one side...I am full of expectations, but always scared, you may leave me cruelly...I am tired of the monotonous endless fields, tired of everything— — except you, oh!

—Paul Verlaine.