Started with a green hat for Verlaine

Rimbaud's place was not suitable for convalescence.

Aso Qiu also hired local people and replaced it with a cleaner house.

When he went out with Rimbaud in his arms, all the passers-by looked at them, and Rimbaud unexpectedly covered his face with his hands, not daring to show his head.

Because Rimbaud knew that he was very haggard, and he was afraid that he would be published in the newspapers and that his acquaintances in France would know what he looked like abroad.In fact, Rimbaud is doing well abroad, and the money he earns is enough for a person to live a chic life. If it is not for the relapse of the old leg disease, Rimbaud will show another mental outlook.

The doctors who should be hired still have to be hired, and the money will not be saved much.

In accordance with the doctor's instructions, Ma Shengqiu also cut off Rimbaud's right trouser leg with scissors, and frowned when he saw the swollen muscles.

The doctor made a preliminary judgment in rough English: "It may be varicose veins."

Ma Shengqiu also said: "His right foot was pierced a few years ago, and the old injury is hurting in the last month. Could it be a complication?"

The doctor lacked equipment at hand, and wanted him to take the patient to the hospital. Ma Shengqiu also thought of the terrible environment of the hospital here, shook his head, and said bluntly: "Bring all the equipment that can be brought here, and treat it here!"

After a few days, Ma Shengqiu also spent money like running water, without frowning, barely controlled Rimbaud's condition.

Artille Rimbaud washed with the help of Aso Qiuya, and finally recovered a bit of the outline of a French beauty. His face was pale and thin, and his eyes were full of bloodshot eyes caused by not sleeping well. Painkillers are taken with meals.

Ma Shengqiu also stopped such excessive medication. Once the leg pain occurred, Ma Shengqiu used a towel to apply cold or hot compresses, and talked with him all night to relieve the physical and mental damage caused by the disease.

After Arthur Rimbaud's spirit improved, he always looked at Akiya Aso subconsciously, especially the skin that was occasionally exposed when the other party took care of him.

【The scars are gone...】

A possibility dawned on his chaotic mind.

[Mr. Wang Qiu... is it human? 】

Arthur Rimbaud's eyes were so obvious, Ma Shengqiu also wrung out the towel, wiped his cheeks for him, and said, "Of course I am human."

Arthur Rimbaud felt that he was back in his youth, and he could still be a child in care and receive precious fatherly love.He opened his heart without reservation, and threw himself into Aso Qiuya's arms, pretending that he had never experienced love, never cared about salary, and was still that innocent boy.

What he wants in his life is not only freedom, but also that love and tenderness.

Arthur Rimbaud opened the conversation: "Mr. Wang Qiu, have you received the poems and novels I sent you before?"

Ma Shengqiu also smiled and said, "I've finished reading all the poems, and the novels... are quite interesting. Are those from your personal experience?"

Arthur Rimbaud nodded his head and told about his ups and downs along the way. When he was cheated, when he was a street performer, and when he was the poorest and most embarrassing moment, he did not fall, but enjoyed loneliness and hunger .

He knows that as long as he is willing to look back to Mr. Wang Qiu, all difficulties will be solved, and he is not on a road that cannot be turned back.

He learned German, Spanish, and many local languages ​​in the places he visited... He also learned the self-defense skills of mercenaries, learned about guns and ammunition, came to Africa, knew the types of coffee beans, understood How to survive in a harsh environment.

"I want to go to every corner of the world...I want to see the hometown of Mr. Wang Qiu, and the country where Asians live..."

Arthur Rimbaud laughed in spite of the pain.

His eyes were filled with dreams.

Always travel.

Forever adrift.

This is the life he chose, and this is the reason he sails.

Ma Shengqiu also likes Rimbaud, who is steadfast in his dream. Such madness and fearlessness are the longing in the heart of a person constrained by society.

Arthur Rimbaud asked in turn: "Mr. Wang Qiu, I have never asked you, what is your dream? Don't tell me it's a reminder. Dreams entrusted to others are definitely not real. Dream, your mind should understand this truth better than mine."

Ma Shengqiu was also left speechless by the question.

Reading literature is a hobby, not a lifelong pursuit.

"my dream……"

This word seems a bit far away from him who died once.

The words that he could proudly say in front of his teachers and juniors got stuck in his throat, making him feel the fragility deep in his heart.

Ma Shengqiu also spoke as smoothly as possible without vibrato.

"Wife... child... hot on the kang."

Wife?

child?

The first two can understand that Mr. Wang Qiu loves his home. What is the hot kang head?

Arthur Rimbaud was stunned, listening to Mr. Wang Qiu's dream to himself.

Aso Qiu also stroked Arthur Rimbaud's blond hair. After touching it for a while, he was bitten again by lice and froze slightly.

Ma Shengqiu also sighed: "You just think that I want a stable home."

Arthur Rimbaud buried his head in his arms, feeling guilty for a second.

Although I call the other party's father, but after running away last time, I will not slow down at all, for fear of being caught by the other party and going back to write.

"Can't Oscar Wilde give you a home?"

"he?"

There was a melting warmth in Aso Qiuya's eyes. Unlike the naughty Rimbaud, he regarded Oscar Wilde as an excellent child, "I hope that Oscar can start a family and start a business by himself, and live the life that a normal person should have. Taste the honor and pride of being a writer."

"Ranbo, haven't you two been curious about my past?" Ma Shengqiu also decided to confess, "I can tell you, and it's up to you to decide whether to tell others."

Arthur Rimbaud raised his head in a daze, and a strong premonition appeared.

Perhaps he shouldn't have heard the origin of Mr. Wang Qiu...

"Ranbo?" Ma Shengqiu was also surprised by the other party's hesitation, did Rimbaud feel something?However, at this step today, when he found Rimbaud, he should explain everything clearly, unravel the fog of the two worlds, and let Rimbaud understand what kind of person he is.

"Don't you want to know who the French name on the back of my waist refers to? Don't you want to know who the scars on my body are from?"

Ma Shengqiu also whetted Rimbaud's appetite step by step. Under the twinkling and tangled eyes of the other party, he no longer concealed a smile.

"Rimbaud, I come from another world."

"There is a world that the 'psychic' dreamed of, going upstream."

"There are countless writers who have become famous for hundreds of years. They no longer concentrate on writing, but have become a person with special powers."

"Everyone's masterpiece is their supernatural power."

"And I'm an ordinary person without supernatural powers."

"I'm in love with another Frenchman who used to have the same name as you..."

"We fell in love for eight years, until I died at the hands of a man with supernatural powers who called himself 'Paul Verlaine', and he divided my body into countless pieces."

"So, I have a grudge against him."

Ma Shengqiu also revealed the secret in an easy-to-understand way.

He tore off the silk scarf around his neck, and the last scar was unforgettable.

His head—it did fall off!

"Ranbo, I've died a long time ago, the living me may be a remnant soul."

"!!!!!!"

Arthur Rimbaud's muscles trembled wildly, horrified and shocked.

A real-life horror story!

Paul Verlaine?It was Verlaine who killed Mr. Wang Qiu!

Ma Shengqiu also comforted, "Do you need me to speak slowly?"

Arthur Rimbaud's teeth were chattering, and in terms of excitement, this was probably the most thrilling and frightening thing he had ever encountered in his life.

Arthur Rimbaud thought for a few seconds, and said boldly.

"I want to hear the whole process!"

"Tell me, there is a story about another me, another Verlaine!"

"I'm a poet and an adventurer. I can't bear this temptation—even if I die, I have to watch this world soberly before I die! Tell me, what happened between 'us'?"

The blond young man bent his legs with difficulty and sat in front of Aso Akiya.

Aso Qiu also watched Rimbaud's every move in pursuit of the unknown.

He gladly began to tell the story.

A more detailed story than he told Mr. Hugo.

In the story, there is himself, Rantang, Ranpo, Chuya, Aji...everyone builds the 29-year-old life of Aso Akiya.

Ma Shengqiu also urged the author to update the secret, which is also included in the story.

—He healed the soul through his works.

……

In the next few days, Arthur Rimbaud was immersed in the story and couldn't extricate himself.

When Ma Shengqiu also took out the semi-finished poetry collection compiled by Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud's eyes were indescribable, his nose was sore, and he shed tears directly, and said with a half smile: "It is "Colorful Paintings" ah……"

In the story, Mr. Wang Qiu's lover is named Arthur Rimbaud, also named Lan Tang, and the name of his supernatural power is "color painting collection".

Arthur Rimbaud reached out to take the draft, which was covered in Verlummer's handwriting.After Paul Verlaine was released from prison, he was penniless and all the drafts were gone. He could only rely on his memory of Rimbaud to recall these contents.

"Ranbo, complete it for me." Ma Shengqiu also sat by the bed and said solemnly, "It is incomplete, and I need your help."

Arthur Rimbaud wiped away his tears and opened the poetry collection. The content was all inspired by him, but many details were mistaken by Verlaine's memory.

"Dad, you were right to find me."

Arthur Rimbaud did not complain about Ma Shengqiu. If this was the only way to save him, he would be willing to make this pen and this bottle of medicine, praying that this father who took care of him tenderly could be reborn.

His feelings for Aso Akiya have bred purity from the complexity, and no one will forget the relationship during the Paris Commune.

They have no love.

The family relationship between the two has become a bridge across the entanglement of love and hate.

"I can make it up!"

"Give me some time, and I will write "Colorful Paintings" for you!"

……

sorry--

Was it you who was crying outside the attic?