Boundary Convention

diary excerpt

"In an ocean of ignorance, we find truths as small as grains of sand."

"Is that dream again..."

I sat up and looked towards the wall habitually, imagining that a window opened here, and there was a blue sky and groups of migratory birds outside. days, months, or even years. The only thing that can remind me of "time" is that the antique clock on the wall rang seven times dullly at this time as usual.

I got up from the bed and sighed again for today's disappointment. Today's test was placed on the table. I had to finish it quickly and hand it over to the doctor. Although I hated all kinds of weird academic questions in it, but I have to. This malicious white paper was once torn into pieces by many people, but no one dared to tear it a second time.

Name: wasteland

Sex: Male

Age: don't remember

Please answer the following questions (choose one)

Short answer question 1: Write down the three laws of thermodynamics.

Short answer question 2: Briefly analyze the theoretical and practical significance of the 'brain in a bottle' hypothesis.

Short answer question 3: Talking about the human brain, brain cancer, and its treatment.

Among these questions, I only remember the answer to the third question, which seems to say that the brain is the largest organ with the most fat in the human body. Water, fat and protein make up 75% of the brain. The average weight of a newborn's brain is about 400 grams, while that of an adult is about 1350 grams, and the brain of a male is a little heavier than that of a female. Interestingly, over hundreds of years of evolution, our human brains have actually shrunk by 9 cubic inches, which may have something to do with our smaller size. Containing approximately 86 billion nerve cells, the brain not only stores vast amounts of information, but is also responsible for signaling...

Sighing, I crookedly filled in my answer.

Walking into the bathroom, I picked up the cup and took a cup from the tap, and drank it down. Taking off the wet pajamas, it seemed that the strong smell of blood from the dream still remained on it. Why did this dream come about, I often ask myself, people always say that they think about it every day and dream at night, if the dream is really a manifestation of a person's subconscious... then what kind of person am I?

Caressing his own face in the mirror, black bangs that have not been taken care of, and a childish fair face... What kind of person is the wasteland? Perhaps, this point I will never have a way to know.

Because I have no memory. To be precise, there is no memory other than being in this hospital. What is left at the starting point of the memory is this clean and monotonous room, and the habit of living in the hospital like a machine.

After splashing a handful of cold water on my face, my frozen thinking gradually began to move. In the music played by the speakers hanging around, a new day begins again. "Fly me to the moon" is the wake-up bell of this hospital, and it is a piece of music that doesn't quite match the name of this hospital.

The name of this hospital is 'Library', and this name is not often mentioned in the hospital. Perhaps it is named after the unit it belongs to like the Army Naval Hospital, or it may be named after the establishment place or history like the "Hospital Knights".

But anyway, this hospital does have a ridiculously large library, probably bigger than all the other activity rooms combined. Doctors are also keen to offer a wide variety of courses. Literature and history courses are more popular because the main content of the courses is to watch documentaries, but for some subjects such as topology and quantum mechanics, few patients in the hospital take them. Mood to study. Courses will also record credits, and there are a series of rewards and punishments... Sometimes I suspect that this is not a hospital, but a weird private university.

Mathematics and physics are compulsory courses in this hospital. Except for those who are terminally ill, all patients must be present, otherwise they will be severely punished as much as the army... Confinement is only the most gentle of them.

However, it is one thing to go, but another to listen. Most of the patients are buried in their heads in class, but what is strange is that these two courses have different teaching methods from other subjects. After the topic is left on the blackboard, nothing else is left, no one teaches it, and no one checks it. Although there are occasional exams, it won't make any difference even if you hand in blank papers.

I really don't know what the meaning of compulsory class attendance is.

I pushed open the door, and the corridor outside the door was empty. At this time, everyone else had probably gone to the cafeteria to have breakfast. In this fully enclosed hospital with not much to do, people only had to eat I can be more positive.

When I came to the cafeteria, the banquet was already full. I glanced at the table. Today's breakfast was only ordinary gruel, not even steamed buns. I could see that I was quite coping. But this is also a common practice. The cook on Monday is always in a bad mood, and the food is even muddied.

Picking up the plate and eating the porridge, the moment the gruel fell from the cook's spoon——

"How do you eat salty porridge today?" I blurted out.

The other party glared at me, raised his hand impatiently, poured half a spoonful of gruel back into the pot, and said angrily: "I like to eat, don't eat it." I was so scared that I hurriedly took the plate back.

I found a seat near the corner and sat down, and I was annoyed by my behavior of talking but not thinking. This bad-tempered cook is notoriously picky when cooking, and if I dig such a spoonful back for him, I won’t eat at all. Not full. Sighing, I grabbed the spoon and took a mouthful, almost spitting it out.

"It's so salty..."

It was just a sudden thought in my mind, which actually made me think again, the porridge in the cafeteria is usually added with sugar, but today it has been added with salt, and a lot of it is added. Deliberately knocked over the salt shaker in the kitchen, it's the new boy who got salt mixed up with sugar, really...

"How can you eat it so salty, it's dead."

While I was still savoring the lingering salty taste on my tongue, there was a soft complaint from the neighbor. Although the voice was small, it was full of resentment.

"I really can't stay here any longer." The bald man sitting next to him said. "I haven't had a good day since I came here. It's like squatting in a cell." His voice was still very low. After all, loud noises are not allowed in the cafeteria, and no one in this hospital can afford the price of violating the regulations.

"Okay, where did you come from to let you hang around in there? You should be content with your life, talk less, get cured as soon as possible and go outside to have fun." The fat man sitting opposite the bald man said, while Said that while drinking the porridge, even though his brows were already wrinkled by the saltiness, he still wolfed down the plate.

It's a beautiful world out there, and once we're out of the hospital, we're treated to a certain level of care, such as counseling, job referrals, and even spouse introductions—that's what everyone agrees on.

"Healing diseases, do you still believe in treating diseases here? I have been here for so many years and my rheumatism has not been cured."

Indeed, hearing their conversations, sometimes I have this kind of doubt, whether this hospital is a hospital or not? I don't really see what's wrong with me and my fellow patients, although they sent us in with ambiguous terms...except for some crazy and stupid people who are really mentally ill, but these guys have special wards and personal care. From this point of view, it is more appropriate to say that this place is not so much a hospital as a lunatic asylum.

"Didn't the big white guy next door get cured a few days ago?" The fat man continued. "Everyone is out."

"Do you really believe that Dabai has gone out?" The bald head suddenly moved his face a little closer, and at the same time lowered his voice. "I heard that Dabai entered the 'professor''s office and can't come out again..."

"Rumors are all rumors. How can you believe them all?"

"Tsk, you still don't believe it, I think this hospital is probably the kind of black-hearted hospital that buys and sells human organs."

"Come on, don't say a few words." The fat man said, and glanced at the camera on the ceiling. "Eat as you eat, there are so many words."

"I don't have any complaints about the hospital, but at least tell us why we came here." I muttered in a low voice, "I don't know where I come from, and I don't know where this is. What's the point of being alive."

"Let's eat, little brother, we will go out when we are cured." We sighed in unison. In fact, since I came in, there will be a small-scale riot not long after. Some patients really can't bear this Suicide due to captivity, fights between patients with broken hearts, and patients who tried to escape, but the final result of these things is that they return to their respective wards, continue to fill out questionnaires the next day, continue to attend classes in various classrooms, and continue to Doing a series of checks. Gradually, everyone has become numb, and the doctors here are all kind and friendly. If you don't violate the regulations, the patient and the doctor are completely friends.

The doctor told me that the reason for coming in was "intermittent delusional disorder". The irony is that I actually think they have a good point.

At this moment, a careless, bald elbow touched the spoon, which slid a few times on the smooth table, fell to the ground, and bounced to my feet. Reflexively, I bent down and reached for the spoon.

The moment I touched the spoon, I suddenly felt that something was wrong with me, and I shivered suddenly, my skin was itchy, as if the pores all over my body were suddenly opened, and there was a fusion of five senses coming from the loose skin. The complex sensations, smells, touches, and even tastes all stuck to the skin of the whole body, making people feel very uncomfortable. Fortunately, this feeling only appeared for a second, and then disappeared without a trace. I froze for a while under the table, then I sat up and numbly handed the spoon to the bald man who was looking this way.

"Thanks, little brother." He took the spoon with a smile, as if he didn't notice my discomfort.

"Watch your feet," I said.

Strange, why am I saying this? Although he vaguely felt that he might slip...but he was sitting now.

The bald head didn't say much, just said 'oh', took the spoon from my hand, looked at it over and over again, showing disgust in his eyes, probably felt that there was some dust on the ground. So he stood up and wanted to change the spoon.

But before he took a few steps, he suddenly slipped and fell on his back in an extraordinary manner, and then...with the sound of "Ouch", he was helped up by a few kind-hearted patients.

The fat man sitting across from the bald head also went to help. Suddenly he raised his head, looked at me with a mysterious expression, and muttered softly: "The reputation is well-deserved."

To that, I had no choice but to shrug my shoulders in response.

I really don't know when I started to be like this, it seems like it has been like this since I can remember, speaking good but not bad. Some inexplicable words often pop up inadvertently. To be honest, I don’t know why I said these words, as if bypassing the brain and coming out of my throat directly, but these words will often come true—unknowingly Somebody started calling me Crow's Mouth.

To be honest, although most of the people in this hospital are good people, they didn't bully me or isolate me because of this, but the feeling of being a catastrophe is really uncomfortable.

After the meal, the people in the cafeteria gradually dispersed, and I was also preparing to leave after eating. As usual, I would still go to the oil painting room to kill time. It is probably the most spacious activity room in this hospital, a little bigger than a movie theater, maybe because it is both a studio and a gallery.

But it's actually just me in the studio... Others don't seem to be able to bring up this kind of leisure and elegance.

Walking into the studio, the room is filled with a strange smell of turpentine. Except for a few little-known small works on the walls that are real oil paintings, the rest are famous paintings displayed in electronic picture frames, which are changed every week. Compared with those masterpieces on the LCD screen, I still prefer those clumsy works painted on canvas. Only the real brushstrokes and those slightly raised paints can make me feel the reality of painting.

I was especially fascinated by the bust of a woman hanging in the corner. This is a painting without any introduction, name, type, specification, author, creation year, creation background, etc., all unknown. Judging from the content of the screen, there is very little information obtained. I can only know that it is a woman dressed in exotic clothes, sitting in front of me with her eyes closed, her expression is mournful, as if she has just attended a grievous funeral.

Today is Monday, and the new canvases have arrived. I chose a medium-sized one, and sat in the middle of the room, since I was the only one here anyway.

Using charcoal pencils to make a good draft skillfully, this time the theme...is still that dream. This dream has been repeated countless times in sleep, and the number of times this scene has been reproduced on the canvas is also countless.

Although I dare not call myself a painter, I like drawing from the bottom of my heart, especially drawing on drawing paper, which can give people a completely different sense of satisfaction than using a digital tablet.

I'm not in a hurry to apply the background color, because usually at this time, the doctor from the hospital should come to urge me to go for a physical examination. Drawing and writing are both behaviors that require continuity. No interruption is the best. I don’t like to be interrupted when drawing an important part. Therefore, it is the best choice not to start before being interrupted, because once you start writing , facing only success or failure.

"It's about time," I said to myself, fiddling with my palette knife.

As soon as the words were finished, there was the sound of opening the door. I turned around and was stunned. It turned out to be the 'director' who came to remind me today? I was not very familiar with this 'director' before. I only knew from the work card hanging on her chest that her name was Mo Xiao.

She was a lean woman in her twenties, with a single brown ponytail, and like everyone else in the hospital, she never left her white coat. As for appearance... there are not many women in the hospital, so I don't know if she is considered beautiful, but she looks a bit like the woman in "Portrait of an Unknown Lady", which is also a painting I like very much.

At this time, she was staring at me, her eyes were as sharp as ever. Maybe it was because he felt that it was disrespectful for such a famous person like me to urge me, an unknown person, to go for a medical examination. Mo Xiao had an unhappy aura all over his body.

"Wasteland." She said coldly, her voice didn't sound unpleasant, but aggressive.

"Yes... yes!" I jumped up from the chair and stood in front of her in a panic, "I am the wasteland."

"Come with me, it's time for the physical examination." After finishing speaking, she didn't say a word, turned around and strode out.

"Please wait..."

I wanted to call her to stop and let me pack the painting tools first, but she ignored her and walked out without looking back. I looked at the things around me, and at her receding figure, and had no choice but to quickly follow her.

"I said, can you wait a minute?" I said and reached out to her, wanting to pat her on the shoulder.

Suddenly, a little green monster slowly 'changed' from her shoulder, like a "malignant tumor" growing from her body, and this green "malignant tumor" gradually gave birth to facial features and Limbs! This caught me off guard, and I yelled and fell to the ground.

And this fall finally made her stop, and turned her head to look at me coldly.

"What a fuss."

She said coldly, as if I already knew this little monster very well.

"Since you know I'm coming, you should have packed your tools first." She said coldly, stroking the little monster's head on her shoulder with her index finger. When I took a closer look, I found that it turned out to be a chameleon, and it was wagging its long tongue at me, as if making a face.

"But... I was painting at the time." I argued, wiping the sweat from my brow at the same time.

"You only used charcoal pencils on your canvas to make a draft, but now you are holding a palette knife." She pointed to my hand, and I realized that I was holding a palette knife in my hand all the time , did not put it back. "The palette and knife are clean, and the paint has not been opened. From this, it can be inferred that you were in a state of idleness before my arrival. Therefore, I judge that there is no value and significance in waiting-it is you who wasted cleaning up time."

"I..." I was speechless after being uttered by her so quickly, and I couldn't think of words to refute.

"If you don't want to waste your and my time, get up quickly." Putting down these cold words, she took another step. Ignoring my shouts, she walked deep into the corridor without looking back, and it took me a long time to keep up with her footsteps.

After walking through the intricate corridors of the hospital for a long time, we finally arrived at the door of the room for the routine physical examination. Mo Xiao swiped his pupils on the iris detector at the side, and after a crisp sound, the door swung open. She came up behind me and roughly pushed me in, who was dawdling in the doorway.

"Here we come." Walking into the room, Mo Xiao said to the swivel chair in the center of the room with its back facing us.

"It's too slow, you are 103 seconds late." The chair slowly turned half a circle, and a woman looked at us. "103 seconds is enough time for me to read the first three chapters of this book, you are already disqualified."

It was only at this time that I noticed that several sheets of paper filled with various mathematical equations were neatly arranged in the air in the entire room. Obviously, this is a holographic projection, and these more than a hundred sheets of paper are what the woman said. the first three chapters.

"Sorry, Professor." Mo Xiao lowered her head slightly, and from this distance, she could clearly see that her expressionless face was covered with a layer of haze. "I'll pay attention next time."

"There will be no next time. If it weren't for everyone else to deal with the birthday party, I wouldn't let you do this kind of thing." The woman on the chair said, with no mercy between the lines.

The woman speaking is the head of the hospital. I don't know her name, but the staff and patients in the hospital call her "Professor".

The professor looked much more mature than Mo Xiao, with eye-catching silver-gray short hair, wearing a white suit with purple sleeves and a white windbreaker. But although they are all white, the white on the professor's body is different from Mo Xiao's lazy white coat. It is filled with a daunting metallic texture, just like the woman in my dream, but I know that the professor is not not her. Because the woman in my dream had golden eyes as bright as the sun, while the professor's eyes were deep purple, like a bottomless ghost.

She doesn't appear many times in front of people. Perhaps as the head of the hospital, she needs to spend more time dealing with other things instead of showing her face in public. However, I am not very unfamiliar with the professor. She was very interested in my behavior of saying something unconsciously a long time ago, and asserted that it was a kind of brain disease, so she often checked me personally and looked for cure The plan will even meet some of my unreasonable demands on painting... I have to say that in this hospital, she can be regarded as my benefactor and takes good care of me.

Although not as unsmiling as Mo Xiao, even so, I still think she is a scary person, for example, she can read the first half of a book in a few minutes, and then write the second half by herself, etc. During the distance conversation, I found that her eyes never reflected anything, as if it was a lifeless valley...

"Okay, let's start quickly." The professor urged.

I never dared to neglect the professor's words, and obediently lay down on the X-ray machine as usual. I knew she wasn't really looking at me, but past experience told me she knew what I was doing all the time.

After I lay still, the professor snapped her fingers, and some keyboard-like light screens appeared out of thin air beside her, and she tapped lightly on them twice. In the sound of running, the machine started, and countless mechanical arms approached with various instruments.

I actually don't like this examination very much, it's hot and cold, and sometimes it's a little painful. I am used to watching the professor during the physical examination. She always sits on the seat and stares at the examination process as if in a daze. This makes me somewhat at ease in this seemingly dangerous examination. But she didn't stay here for a long time today, she just sat for a while, then looked at her watch, gave some orders to Mo Xiao who was still here, and left quickly.

Sometimes I have the illusion that the professor is indifferent to everything here, at least her eyes show that... It's hard to describe. If I have to say it, it's like the dream I've been having all this time—the gray and white strangeness and the indescribable sense of dislocation.

"do not move."

The professor's place was replaced by the man with the bad face.

Mo Xiao's gaze was always on other places, only the chameleon on her shoulder was staring at me, that gaze might be called dull, but it was very uncomfortable. So I turned my head to the front, and a little nap would be a good idea.

It's a pity, as soon as I closed my eyes, there were bursts of stinging pain from my body, how can I sleep like this? So he clicked his tongue and turned his gaze to Mo Xiao again.

To my surprise, Mo Xiao was also staring at me closely. For a moment, our eyes met, and she froze for a moment, then turned her eyes to the side. Only the chameleon on her shoulder was still staring at me intently.

When the last piece of equipment held by the robotic arm was removed from me, I sat up and stretched my stiff body. And Mo Xiao was in a hurry to deal with the reports that spit out continuously from the machine.

"That... I'm sorry." Looking at her back, for some reason, I suddenly felt that I should apologize to her.

"Why do you apologize?" Hearing my voice, her movements only paused for a moment, and she continued to fiddle with those recording papers.

"Well, if I hadn't argued with you about packing up the painting utensils... Maybe you wouldn't have been late."

"Nonsense," she said without looking back. "Being late is an unpredictable result. Even if you pack your painting tools, there is no guarantee that you will not be late. This is force majeure."

"But..." I wanted to say something more, but for a while, I was speechless by her words again, and couldn't think of anything to continue apologizing. "No, wait a minute, then why did you scold me just now?"

At this moment, it seemed that it was a bit difficult for one person to handle such a large pile of things. One of the reports slipped from the stack of papers she was holding, and she turned around in a panic to catch the fallen papers. And I couldn't help reaching out to the report, just like that, by coincidence, our two hands touched together.

However, what I feel is not the heartbeat when I touch a woman's skin.

Here it comes again, this feeling of confusion and twisting of the five senses reappears. Many grotesque images flashed through my mind...the blazing fire, the terrified cries of the people, and a group of shrunken old men, who fled in all directions, and hung not far above...it was actually a star Black sun! This is very similar to the scene in my dream, but slightly different.

When I came back to my senses, I found that my hand was holding her hand tightly. I was startled, quickly let go of my hand, and took several steps back.

"What did you see!" She threw away the piles of reports and walked towards me aggressively. "Say it!"

"I don't see anything!"

"lie!"

"Really, I really didn't see anything!"

"Name!"

"wilderness!"

"age!"

"have no idea!"

"Why were you sent to the hospital!"

"Because I'm sick! I came in voluntarily!"

"What did you just see!"

"Sun! Black sun!"

Being forced by her like this, I yelled out in a panic.

"what about others?"

"No...no more..."

Probably because her transformation was so sudden, I subconsciously withheld other details.

"real?"

Walking and retreating all the way, I was finally forced to a corner. Mo Xiao didn't know which nerve was touched, and glared at me angrily. From this distance, I could even feel her messy breathing. As sweaty as I am. But soon, her breathing became calm, as if she had calmed down, and she returned to her usual indifferent face. I immediately started nodding repeatedly.

"That's good."

As if she suddenly lost interest in me, she turned around and walked to the middle of the reports that had just been scattered like flowers by her goddess, and began to pick them up one by one. And the chameleon on her shoulder also rolled up the report papers on the ground with its tongue and sent them to her hand one by one. Seeing this, I wanted to go up to her and help her, but she simply refused.

"Let's go." She only said two words lightly. "You don't know how to sort this out."

It seems that I am hated by her, which makes me a little frustrated, but it is obviously not a good idea to provoke her in the past now.

And just before I was about to leave the room, she suddenly spoke again.

"The professor is not here. I am the owner of this office, so no one will know what I say or do. I want you to forget what happened just now." Mo Xiao said coldly while focusing on tidying up, "You really Do you think that studio is used for painting?"

In the middle of the night, a quarrel came from the depths of the library.

"When can we go out? For your ridiculous research, we have been dormant inside for long enough. My travel plan has been disrupted by you, and I have my own goals."

"The door is not closed, so you can go if you want to go."

The person on the chair replied without raising his head.

"What do you mean, I don't have a license, you know it."

"You can make one yourself."

"There's nothing in that painting!"

"'If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the same pit', it's just that you can't see it."

"That's enough! I don't have time to play with you. After all, we have to escape like this because of you alone. Don't you feel guilty! If it wasn't for you..."

The person sitting on the chair turned around and looked at the shelf beside him. There was a square stone covered with mottled patterns, like a pillow. In fact, someone did use it as a pillow, and that was a man named Jacob.

"Since people have the so-called wisdom, the first cognition produced is not science, but religion. So I always think, if one day even religion disappears, what will be left in this world."

"If religion disappears, it means that people are no longer afraid of death, but I think people will still believe in karma. As long as there is so-called destiny in the world, things like religion will not disappear. I don't think religion will disappear completely .”

"I thought the same way you did when I was your age."

"What's the point? Do you think you can appease me by talking about life and ideals with me?"

"I'm just showing you a possibility. Man's submission to religion is essentially a submission to possibility... Unpredictable weather, unpredictable people's hearts, and probabilistic death. If one day, we get To grasp the power of possibility..."

"I don't think this kind of thing can be done. I didn't participate in that experiment, and I don't believe in your hysterical hallucinations, and I don't think your ideas have any value."

"Since religion can rely on a false idol to gather a large amount of resources for large-scale extravagance and waste, then science can also rely on real power to more rationally use those things that were wasted by religion..."

"I'm leaving, I don't want to hear your crap, it's not going to happen, it doesn't make sense."

"...We can wait." The woman on the chair said, looking at the stone.

After dinner this morning, I sat in the painting room as usual.

The vision I saw in the medical examination room a few days ago still lingers in my mind and can't get rid of it.

It stands to reason that memory will fade slowly, but for some reason, I can't forget that feeling and the real scene.

The pen tip slid across the canvas lightly, and in the upper center of the picture, I used ultramarine blue to outline the weird outline, the black sun. After returning from the physical examination room, I couldn't forget what I saw when I touched Mo Xiao, so I revised the previous draft, and then I was immersed in creating this painting, and I didn't even eat lunch.

Do you really think that studio is for painting?

What Mo Xiao said to me is still echoing in my heart. Maybe this is some kind of cue to stop drawing? But if I disobey the professor, my disease cannot be cured. Besides, painting is the only fun I have, so I can't give it up so easily. Besides... Maybe she was a little angry with her. In retrospect, her fussy behavior and violent temper were really unpleasant.

I sighed and adjusted the colors again on the palette. But no matter how I paint it, this sun makes me feel something is wrong. It is inexplicably different from the sun in my impression. That sun is so special, I don't know how to describe it better... If I really want to say it, it looks like it was drawn with a scribbled sketch, full of miscellaneous edges and chaotic lines.

Perhaps it is meaningless to entangle in such things. I remember who said that what people see is one thing, but what the brain remembers is another thing, and what is drawn is another thing. Therefore, it is impossible for me to faithfully reproduce the sun in my brain. Thinking of this, I picked up the paintbrush again and continued to modify the weird sun.

At this moment, I suddenly felt cold behind my back, and turned my head suddenly, the hairs all over my body stood on end.

professor!

When did she come here? I didn't notice it at all. Although she used to occasionally come to the studio to watch me paint, but most of them came here on the Monday when my painting was about to be completed, which was really the first time. In order to avoid making an irreparable mistake with shaking hands, I put down the pen tremblingly, and forced a smile to look at the professor.

"You... hello..."

The professor didn't do anything, didn't even roll his eyes down a bit to respond to my smile. She just looked at my unfinished painting seriously, and I didn't dare to act rashly. The atmosphere suddenly became awkward.

"Is your sun rectangular?"

It took a full 10 minutes before she said such a sentence, but her eyes still stayed on the drawing paper in front of me.

"Rectangle? Rectangular?" I was confused for a while, and then looked at the sun I drew. It is indeed a round shape. This is the perfect shape recognized by the ancient Greeks. No matter where you look at it It won't be a rectangle... not even a corner.

"I thought artists wouldn't have this kind of thinking."

"That...that, I drew a sphere." I boldly retorted. "This doesn't look like..."

Besides, I'm not an artist, I'm just a patient with no memory.

"Don't you even know what you drew?" She squinted at me, then stretched out her hand, stroked the 'rectangular' sun, and got a little paint on her fingertips. "The sphere you drew is actually a rectangle rotating at high speed."

"This... I really don't know."

Is there such an explanation? Although I feel very far-fetched, I dare not say it.

"The painting this time is not the same as before. Although the composition is similar and the design idea is the same, it is very different. It is obviously not the same thing, and the focus of expression is very different... Yes, it seems to be ..." At this point, she smiled at me with a half-hearted smile. "It seems that some designs were changed midway."

I swallowed a mouthful of saliva, the feeling of being seen through was really uncomfortable, I didn't speak, and she didn't ask, but instead focused on the lower half that was not lustful. There I drew a lot of twisting bodies, as if they were distressed by the heat of the sun but had nowhere to hide, and there were a few skeletons among them.

"This is?"

"People who are punished by God?" I made up a reason, how would I know what it was, I just drew what I saw.

"Is this what God looks like in your heart? Then it is really a cruel and creative god, no, it is a very scientific god."

"Probably so," I muttered under my breath, which didn't interrupt the professor's intoxicated admiration.

"Compared to direct annihilation and destruction, it is actually a genius to choose such a purge..."

"Um...yes, you've been honored." At this moment, I couldn't understand what the professor was saying.

"I mean the god you drew, not you."

"Oh... oh." I looked away in embarrassment.

"However, gods are all conceived by people after all. In the final analysis, this praise should be given to you who conceived such a god...Use your own acceleration to affect the surrounding things, and then form a special resonance with them, so as to To speed up the aging of living beings...very creative, really...will not disappoint." She nodded approvingly, and I could only nod along with her.

"However, this kind of divine power is not yours, is it?"

Suddenly, she turned her eyes from the painting to me again. That gaze was like a cold arrow, and I, who was pretending to nod my head just now, shuddered suddenly, and sat upright in my seat again.

"Wasteland, let's finish it." She said in a commanding tone, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Yes!" I nodded respectfully, and then suddenly realized that this was the first time the professor called my name.

"Then, it's time to get down to business." Speaking of this, she suddenly changed the subject and raised my heart, "I'm not here today to see your paintings."

"What's that for?" I asked nervously. Could it be that the result of the physical examination report is good, and I can almost be discharged from the hospital?

"It's my birthday in six days."

"Oh, happy birthday to you." Hearing her answer, I was somewhat disappointed, but I tried my best not to show it, and I hope she didn't see it either.

"There will be a banquet at that time, you come to it." She said, "You come to it." ' instead of 'Are you coming? ’, which means that I must be present. So I had to nod. In the library, the professor occasionally holds some small banquets, attended by doctors and staff in the hospital. We patients will definitely not be invited, but we will help to arrange and clean up. However, this is the first time for me to participate in something like the professor's birthday.

The professor seemed to see through my doubts easily, patted my shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, I just want to find a representative of the patient. You are a good role model, that's all."

"Then... thank you, wait, didn't I go to clean up?"

"The time is eight o'clock in the evening. The venue is the synagogue. Don't be late or early. This is very important, remember."

After she finished speaking, she shook off her coat like Mo Xiao, and walked out the door with similar arrogance, leaving me alone who didn't want to paint at all, with lingering fear in my heart. I was curious why she didn't let me come early, but I didn't dare to ask.

It wasn't until I couldn't hear her footsteps at all that I recovered from the fear and let out a long sigh of relief. Suddenly, I realized a creepy fact... That professor who measures everything in seconds actually looked at my drawing for 10 minutes...

In the following days, several things happened. Mo Xiao disappeared. The other doctors said it was because he had a bad cold and needed to rest. The classes in the library were suspended. So it was changed to self-study for all members.

I haven't had class for so long, and I actually started to feel a little bored, even... I feel a little lack of sleep when I don't sleep in class. Fortunately, the date appointed by the professor arrived quietly without knowing it.

When I woke up in the morning, I glanced at the antique clock on the wall. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening. This afternoon nap was really too long, but at least I should be glad that I didn't sleep past eight o'clock.

Getting up from the bed, I felt a little inexplicable restlessness, as if before the exam or about to face some big event. Looking through the full-length mirror, there was a sweater, a jacket over it, and a pair of shorts. As far as collocation is concerned, it doesn't look very harmonious. But they were the only clothes I had in my closet besides hospital gowns, and the snug fit proved that they were mine, even though I had no memory of them.

Before going out, I suddenly had a feeling of nostalgia for this antique clock with no special features. This feeling of parting made me look at it a few more times.

The professor said that the banquet was held in the auditorium, and indeed, besides the library, it was the only place spacious enough to hold any event. Walking through the empty corridor, passing by the studio with the lights turned off, I arrived at the auditorium, and looked at the clock outside the auditorium door, I really stepped on the clock, and the minutes were accurate.

In the auditorium, there were already some noisy voices.

What, has it already started? Maybe it's because the professor thinks I don't need to participate in some irrelevant speeches and the like, and deliberately asks me to be late?

Thinking of this, I stretched out my hand towards the door, and the palm of my hand touched the old copper handle on the door. I was about to force it, but I stopped it suddenly.

It was this sudden discomfort again, and an ominous premonition welled up in his heart. I suddenly felt a little short of breath, something in my body told me to get out of here quickly...

This discomfort is like the illusion seen when touching Mo Xiao...

The black sun hangs high in the sky, like a unique god, emitting an ominous halo in the mottled sky. Wherever the light went, people were crying and looking for cover, but they couldn't dodge in time, and were illuminated one by one by the fiery light. Their flesh and blood seemed to have been evaporated, leaving dense white bones where the sun passed by, emitting colorful thick smoke...

Almost at the same time as my hand left the gate, accompanied by some kind of terrifying loud noise, the heavy gate was knocked open from the inside by a huge impact, and I, who was outside the gate, was also bounced away violently, falling fell to the ground.

what happens? ! Enduring the pain all over my body, I raised my head and looked inside the door... I was stunned all of a sudden.

The synagogue... the entire synagogue has been engulfed in a sea of ​​flames. In the raging flames, there is no one...no, it is anything alive. Countless charred bones are being roasted.

I didn't have time to think or react at all. Driven by the rapid secretion of adrenaline, my body moved instinctively, and I ran away.

Explosions, continuous explosions all around, followed by a big fire, drifting away with thick smoke. I don't know how I got out of the trance caused by successive accidents. When I regained consciousness, I was dizzy in the smoke and flames.

This road doesn't work, and this one doesn't work... The explosion didn't just happen in the synagogue, the whole hospital seemed to explode.

The warning lights were impacted, flashing a dazzling red light hysterically, and beeping continuously in the ears. Affected by this, I felt that my mind was in chaos, and I couldn't judge my position at all. I even forgot the common sense of lying on the ground in case of fire, and ran around like headless chickens.

"Professor! Where is the professor! Director! Where are the other people in the hospital? Why is none of them gone?!" I shouted in confusion, helpless.

And just when I felt hopeless, I suddenly found that there was a cold faint light shining through a door on the other side of the corridor. It is particularly dazzling in this intense red light. It's like a drowning person will unconsciously grab everything he can touch in a panic. In the midst of this scorching flame, I panicked and crashed into the coldly glowing room.

"Isn't this a studio?"

When I got up from the ground, I was stunned, feeling as if I had made a wrong choice. It's true that the fire hasn't reached here yet, but when it comes to combustibles, there's probably no worse place than a studio. Drawing paper, paint, and even the easel itself are flammable.

I subconsciously turned around and wanted to rush out of the room, but the fire blocked my way out.

At this moment, the faint cold light in the room suddenly became stronger. Following the light, the light source turned out to be a painting on the wall... It was nothing else, it was the one I usually like... a half-length woman picture.

but……

What's this! In the painting in front of me, the sad woman disappeared, replaced by a scene that I am all too familiar with, that is my dream! A woman in a silver-white robe turned her back to me, the gray-white sky was surrounded by ruins, and there was nothing alive except her. I am very familiar with this scene, but why did she appear here? In the secondary painting, could it be that I was scared out of hallucinations? !

Immediately afterwards, something even more incredible happened. The surface of the oil painting began to distort little by little in front of me, like an overturned palette. The colors, the picture, the canvas itself, and even the wall behind it all began to change. There is no way, they are entangled together, combined with the continuous explosions and billowing smoke around, weirdness and fear occupy my brain...

What... what's going on? I can't understand the weird scene in front of me, the painting... the painting is moving by itself?

Suddenly, the distorted canvas began to produce more obvious spatial changes, and there was a sense of depth that shouldn't exist inside. Various irregular protrusions seemed to be trying to break free from the shackles of the picture. My legs were as heavy as lead, and I couldn't take a step no matter what, as if my body didn't want to leave.

Then, the woman in the painting turned around gradually! She walked towards me step by step, but the surrounding scene did not change at all. This weird perspective made me feel endlessly dislocated.

In less than a few seconds, she was close to me. When I came back to my senses, I realized that a female face was poking out of the oil painting so strangely.

This face with unclear facial features was staring at me, followed by the neck and shoulders, and then the entire upper body was exposed. She seemed to eat me, or let me enter the painting with her. She in the cold light seemed to have an irresistible magic power, and I stretched out my hand to the painting unconsciously.

But before the fingertips touched it, a more violent explosion suddenly occurred around the studio. The loud noise and air waves pushed me to the ground, and the severe tinnitus silenced everything around me. The flames finally reached here, and with all the combustibles burning in the studio, the whole air was filled with a disgusting smell.

And the woman in the painting returned to the painting immediately. I couldn't see her expression clearly, and I didn't know what happened just now. Maybe she came to save me? !

I crawled on the ground and crawled towards the oil painting as if possessed.

At this moment, when I was concentrating on the unrealistic redemption in front of me like a dream, a sonorous and powerful roar came from behind me.

The sound pierced through the barriers built by the tinnitus and reached directly to my heart.

"Follow me! Wasteland!"

I turned my head slowly and followed the prestige.

Between the rubble and the flames, someone stood there... This is... Mo Xiao! Her face was scorched black by the billowing smoke, her whole body was illuminated red by the flames, and the white coat on her body was also burned to tatters, making her extremely miserable.

I looked at her in a daze, and saw that there was no trace of fear or hesitation on her face, and Mo Xiao's green eyes emitted an extremely sharp and focused light, just like the eyes of a poisonous snake.

"Follow me!" She looked at me from a height and held out her hand to me.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know! Are you going?"

"Walk!"