Started with a green hat for Verlaine

In France, the smell of decay lingers in small hotels.

Ma Shengqiu also reached out to touch the drafts on the table, and looked at the contents of the "Color Painting Collection", as if flipping through the yellowed pictures in his memory.

Once upon a time, he hoped that Lantang could write such an excellent poetry collection.

Lan Tang, who has been endowed with the identity of a poet, looks thoughtful when writing, with literary romance and grace in his eyes, with one hand on his cheek, even if he is in a daze, he is very cute, like an explorer covered with stars and moonlight .

That is the ideal dimension of a writer, that is the ocean of a poet's soul...

That is an art that many supernatural beings cannot understand.

Ma Shengqiu also handed over the pen to Lan Tang, and coaxed Lan Tang to write, watching the other party complete the content of the poem, he would always smile uncontrollably.

write quickly.

What you write will be your supernatural power.

If you understand the source of your supernatural powers, you will understand the source of your strength.

You are no longer the lonely and wandering Lantang in the original book, but beside me, Lantang with rich literary accomplishment and self-digging soul depth.

——You will get something more precious than your memory.

——Family, friendship, love, I create bonds for you in Japan.

Ma Shengqiu also flipped through the paper silently. Verlaine's handwriting was better than Rimbaud's, and it was filled with Rimbaud's poems and Rimbaud's rebellious words against society.Rimbaud's sun is freedom in the distance, and Verlaine's sun is Rimbaud.

In everyone's eyes, the shining person is the sun.

The last thing Verlaine accomplished with his life was to let his sun shine and continue to leave precious footprints in the literary world.

This kind of behavior can be called gentle and restrained.

"He's not that guy..."

Ma Shengqiu also thought of the blond-haired Verlaine he faced before his death, the indifferent Norse god who had the pride of disdain to bend down, would just stand there, wait for the one who loved him to hold the treasure in front of him, and would never do anything selfless .

With this thought, Ma Shengqiu could no longer confuse the identities of the two.

Compared to the blonde Verlaine, the poet...has the shadow of Lan Tang.

Lantang's weakness.

Lan Tang's melancholy.

Lantang is meticulous and sensitive.

At the same time, Lan Tang has both the firmness of Rimbaud in the third dimension and his desire for family, just like the characteristics of Rimbaud and Verlaine were broken, and the souls born from the re-condensation have the same relationship with those two people. karma.

Ma Shengqiu also put the unfinished poetry collection in his arms, closed his eyes as if holding the poems written by Lan Tang, and suppressed the nameless sadness.

""Colorful Paintings"...is named after Verlaine."

"Some of the content is incomplete. You need to find Rimbaud to complete it."

"After completion—"

"Will I see Lan Tang?"

At the cost of the poet's life, in exchange for his chance to meet his lover.

What a grim thing.

With hatred and extremes, he killed a person who was grateful to him before he died, and imposed grievances that did not belong to the other party on the other party's head.Verlaine died in middle age before he could ascend the throne of the "King of Poets" in France.

A few days later.

With Wang Qiu's gift, Paul Verlaine's funeral was held normally.

After Paul Verlaine's accident, those friends who avoided like snakes and scorpions attended the funeral one after another when they heard of Wang Qiu's arrival.

Stéphane Mallarmé addressed Paul Verlaine's funeral, reading a poem from "The Grave": "The north wind turns a black, angry rock..."

Among the sparse crowd, the oriental man in black stood in the corner. The writer who wanted to greet him did not dare to make a sound, feeling the gloomy depression on the other party's body, while the oriental man put his hands on the cane, Holding a hat that had just been taken off, he remained silent, like a pale statue.

Stefan Mallarme glanced in Wang Qiu's direction temporarily.

He sighed in his heart.

If Wang Qiu had been in France, he might have been able to save Paul Verlaine.

However, these are all his unilateral speculations. After all, Wang Qiu is such a charitable character to writers. The only thing you need to pay is the work.

Besides, Stefan Mallarmé regretted that Rimbaud was not present.

The "Wandering Angel" still doesn't know where he wandered.

"Thank you, Mallarmé." After the funeral, the coffin was about to be transported to a cemetery in Paris, France. Ma Shengqiu also thanked Mallarmé for his help.

Stefan Mallarme said implicitly: "I am also a friend of Verlaine."

How much of this statement is true and how much is false is unknown.

Ma Shengqiu would not try to expose it, but looked at a woman who was crying into the coffin, and asked, "Is that Verlaine's mother?"

Stefan Mallarme nodded: "Does Mr. Wang Qiu want to comfort her?"

Ma Shengqiu also had a cold face, and he had been so indifferent since the beginning of the funeral, like a black ghost before the funeral, no longer gentle.

"I don't think she is short of money, she should have no worries in her life." Ma Shengqiu couldn't lift his spirits, "It is human nature for a mother to suffer so much for her dead son, even I can't let Verlaine Back from the dead, instead of talking about scenes, let her say her final farewell to her son."

"Tell her something for me."

Before Ma Shengqiu also left, he told Ma Lamei.

"I will not refuse to publish his work like other publishers."

"What I can do is to buy the copyright of his son's poetry collection, translate and publish those works, so that he can live in the hearts of readers..."

"And... mourning..."

The figure of the Oriental is far away.

Stéphane Mallarme kept the other party's words in mind, and walked slowly towards Verlaine's mother, conveying the goodwill of a publisher.

The atmosphere of this winter seems to be particularly bleak because of Paul Verlaine's funeral.

The literary enthusiasm of Britain and France has declined.

Everyone started winterizing, stockpiling supplies, and finding indoor recreation outside of writing.Many salon gatherings tirelessly invite Wang Qiu, hoping that the other party can appear in the salon they hold and add a lot of talk to the topic on the street.

Aso Qiu also received a few debts that had been released, and when he returned to London, Oscar Wilde also noticed that he was mentally weak, and pushed various classmate activities, and spent a whole winter with Aso Qiuya attentively, and learned Baked sweet potatoes and other skills.

As soon as he put on the long johns, Oscar Wilde's style changed drastically. He was simple and naive, and he was no longer the flamboyant Oscar Wilde in the London social circle.

Ma Shengqiu also sat in front of the fireplace and smiled.

Oscar Wilde was not shy either, showing his thick thighs after wearing long johns. The color he chose was his favorite red!

Ma Shengqiu also picked up the tape measure and measured the latest height for the other party.

Wilde has broken through the 1.9-meter mark.

Put on high heels, properly two meters.

Oscar Wilde was troubled: "There are annoying people who like to attack me and my mother's height. I just grow taller."

Ma Shengqiu also said: "Don't listen to those people's bad words, tall and thin men are good-looking." With his support, Oscar Wilde kept his figure, bent his arms, and showed off his muscles: "I also Think so."

Aso Qiu also poked his finger down the opponent's show.

Oscar Wilde collapsed onto the sofa and protested: "You have too much strength!"

Ma Shengqiu also misses: "In the eyes of the people I knew before, I was weak and vulnerable... I had to be protected by three layers of inner and outer layers."

A secretary surnamed Mori often feels that her boss will die unexpectedly.

"Impossible." Oscar Wilde panicked.

"My physical skills are very weak." Ma Shengqiu also finally got in the mood to joke, and regained his usual state, "But it's okay to hit ten with one."

Once again, Oscar Wilde decided that Qiu used to live in a place full of talented people.

"Qiu, tell me a few more stories about people with different abilities."

Oscar Wilde's bedtime stories are often changed, depending on what Ma Shengqiu wants to tell, usually he will pick up "The Mysterious Island" by the way, and coax Gabe to sleep together.

Ma Shengqiu also raised his voice and said, "Okay, let me tell you a story about the white tiger. Once upon a time, there was an orphan who lived in the orphanage, but the director treated him very badly and locked him up from time to time. , treated differently from other children, he always curls up and cries at night, unable to see the moonlight outside..."

Oscar Wilde listened to his narration. It was the story of a boy named Atsushi Nakajima, revealing the cruel and tender corner of the supernatural society.

In the world of Wenye, Oscar Wilde, who is used to seeing all kinds of things, also silently recalled the story of the white tiger boy, feeling a little sour in his heart.

"Qiu, the life of a person with supernatural abilities is not necessarily beautiful."

"However, what you envy is that no matter how dark the place they are in, one day they will have the opportunity to control their own future."

Oscar Wilde thought of Percy again, and his eyes dimmed.

I'm sorry, but Percy never felt the misfortune of people with supernatural powers in his life.

A real trash beauty.

He covered his face in shame, "I'm awake, I won't be confused anymore!"

In order to get rid of Percy's psychological shadow, he decided!If you have nothing to do, draw more Posey!

Fighting poison with fire is very effective in cutting off the feelings of your ex-boyfriend.

Portrait of Posey: "..."

Are you polite, Wilde? !

Oscar Wilde seems to be powerful and prestigious in England, but in fact he also has unspeakable grievances. For example, he repeatedly begged Mr. Shakespeare to return the portrait. In my hands, it has nothing to do with you, the original owner."

If Oscar Wilde entangled further.

With a sound of tearing, William Shakespeare pulled his hands with a smile, and tore away Oscar Wilde's suit pants and sexy black stockings. The men were all gone, and they were no worse than women, and the skin color of their thighs was exposed.

The other party threatened very badly: "Xiao Tiantian, if you hug me like this again, I very much welcome you to stay overnight at my house."

Oscar Wilde was discouraged.

Mr. Shakespeare is shameless and bullies the younger generation!

"Qiu, I really can't beat Mr. Shakespeare." Oscar Wilde cried faintly in his own home, "He is a senior everywhere..."

In the dream, Shakespeare, a historical celebrity in the literary world.

In reality, Britain's top boss - Shakespeare.

Compared with this person, he is really a little sweet in the other party's mouth.

……

At the end of the nineteenth century, in front of the grave of the poet Verlaine.

Arthur Rimbaud, whose whereabouts have been lost, appeared once, and put down a black hat as a gift in front of the opponent's grave.

"Here, this is my favorite hat, and you may like it too."

He looked at the name on the tombstone.

This was the person he had been in love with in his youth, the two had hugged and kissed passionately.Had a fight, and finally parted ways under two shots in Brussels.

"I never thought of letting you die..."

"there has never been."

The blond young man squatted down and kissed the tombstone. The cold breath of death passed between his lips and teeth, "You asked me in the past, did I ever like you...I will answer you now, you are dead, and I am very lonely..."

"There is no one like you chasing after me anymore."

"As soon as I cry, you will come back..."

A boy's tears are weakness, but a man's tears are a farewell.

"I'm going to start traveling again."

"For you, for us... to see the vast world... I will always remember that I liked you when I was 17 years old."

……

Wenye World, on the deck of a ship.

The blond-haired Rimbaud looked at the golden waves on the sea level, and said to Paul Verlaine who came over: "I want to take you to Japan, get ready, and worship someone with me." His lips pursed, He seemed to ask casually, "Brother, your partner, what does that man look like?"

Paul Verlaine said: "Black hair and green eyes, typical French."

"Do you have thick hair?"

"concentrated."

"Are the eyes beautiful?"

"Golden green from different angles."

"Is it easy to get drunk?"

"will not."

"Put your face on the pillow during sex, shy?"

"..."

"Huh? What kind of strange expression do you have? Wait for me to check your body at night."

The blond-haired Rimbaud turned his head, mentally interpreted the other party's ellipsis, and then looked at Paul Verlaine with malicious eyes.

As "Rimbaud", you didn't fuck your partner!

Are you okay?