First Player

Chapter 1243 Chapter One Thousand Two Hundred and Forty · [What are your wings, and which paradise do you fly to? 】

"Cough, cough, cough..." A cough came from the side.

Su Mingan turned his head and saw a white-haired girl sitting next to him. Her face was pale and her handkerchief was stained with a little blood from coughing up.

Noticing his gaze, the girl took out a pamphlet, a little reserved and a little eager: "Olivis. I wrote a new poem... Do you want to hear it?"

"Yeah." He heard himself respond.

It seems that this experience is Si Que's coexistence with his friends.

The white-haired girl opened the book and read softly:

"[Daisies swaying gently in the spring breeze,]"

"[In the green fields, alone and uninhibited,]"

“[I don’t envy the birds flying high, I just want to enjoy the time like this. 】

"[In the arms of Mother Earth, daisies bloom, remembering each year...]"

Si Que listened quietly. Above the grass, there was only the clear voice of the girl, mixed with a trace of trembling, as if she was a little nervous because of sharing.

The red butterfly falls on the swaying daisies, and the poetry is recited like a flowing stream.

After reading, the girl held the book in her arms, her bright eyes blinking: "...how did it go?"

Her eyes were full of expectation, as clear and pure as a mirror.

"I can feel your aura of nature." Si Que said.

"Is that good or bad?" the girl asked.

"There is no good or bad literature, and no word is high or low." Si Que said, "I like the artistic conception in your poems, and that's enough."

The girl was stunned for a moment, then said: "But people say that your works are very good, and they compare them and belittle other people's works. Isn't this the difference between good and bad?"

"I don't think so." Si Que said: "There is no good or bad literature, only whether it suits your taste or not. There is no need to give a value evaluation, only whether I like it or not. They think my work is good because they like it and attach it. But in fact, I don’t think my writing is any better than others, it’s just that they ‘like’ it, which doesn’t mean that if it’s not liked, it should be dismissed as rubbish.”

The white-haired girl lowered her head, seeming to understand a little bit.

"Read me some more of your poems," Si Que said.

"……good."

There was a happy look on the girl's face. She opened the pages of the book, revealing densely packed delicate small characters, and read out a young poem that belonged to her:

"[Floating in the blue sky, a wingless bird, with a light body, flying freely.]"

"[Unfettered, unfettered. The pages become feathers, and the words become songs.]"

"[Flying over the mountains, crossing the ocean. Wandering freely in the poems, swaying with ink, poetry and painting corridors.]"

"[Wingless bird, bird, what are your wings, and what paradise do you fly to...]"

She read, and Si Que listened quietly.

She stopped and Si Que waited quietly.

Su Ming'an didn't expect that Si Que's experience would be so heartwarming. Compared to the time when he was eaten, this experience made the spots on his body look lighter. It turns out that Si Que also has such a good friend. There is no interest or impurity between them, they just share poetry and chat.

Until the sunset inch by inch fell into the end of the field, and the stars ended, as if a fairy tale had finally ended, and the moonlight was flowing on them.

The girl closed the book as if she was startled, and stood up suddenly: "I have to go back, otherwise my family will be anxious."

Si Que was still lying on the lawn: "Those family members who beat and scolded you?"

The girl rolled her hair and said softly: "It's normal for them to be wary of me. After all... I am a child left by the devil. But as long as I am well-behaved and obedient enough, they will definitely accept me."

"Say hello to Ms. Lin Wangan for me," Si Que said.

"Okay, I will tell my mother. However, I can't let them know that I have made friends with the famous Creator, otherwise they will definitely come after you." The girl smiled: "Okay, I I’m going home and I’ll write you a poem next time.”

"..."

Si Que was still lying on the lawn.

His fingers bent over and over again, as if he was hesitating.

"——Wait a minute." He said.

The girl's back is reflected in the distance. She tilts her head, with a warm smile on her face, and her white hair swaying in the setting sun.

Si Que looked at the distant sunset for a moment, as if he wanted to retain the girl, but his lips trembled for a moment, and finally he just said: "...be careful on the road."

The white-haired girl raised her eyebrows, smiled, and responded:

"Thank you, Olivia."

"I never thought that as a small person, I would be valued by the great creator known as Luo Vasa and become a friend. You often come to listen to my poetry... Even if it is just some trivial poetry, no one will like it if it is released. , but you encourage me every time.”

"Meeting you is really the luckiest thing... in my unfortunate life."

"You are such a good person. Although I know that I am not the only friend you have...but in my heart, you are the best."

The white-haired girl waved to him, turned around, her steps were brisk, her long skirt fluttering like a white daisy swaying in the sunset, and her smile was extremely happy.

"That's right." She suddenly stopped.

She didn't look back, and her timid voice floated along the wind:

"Next time... can you bring a harp and play music for my poems? I heard... you are very good at the harp."

"good."

Si Que agreed.

A smile appeared on her face, and then she took steps, slowly, leaving the end of the horizon.

Si Que was lying on the lawn. After a while, he got up and saw a white flower lying on the grass next to him. This is a little flower that she carefully cultivated and gave to him.

"...Good person." He repeated the word and suddenly laughed at himself, not knowing what he was laughing at: "She said I was a good person, ha, ha ha ha ha..."

He covered his face, and with a wave of his right hand, a white space door appeared in front of him, and he stepped into it.

A white light flashed, and he returned to his room. The flames were crackling in the fireplace, the ground was covered with paper airplanes, and the kerosene lamp was shining dimly.

He sat at the mahogany table with an unfinished piece of draft paper open.

He looked at the scratch paper and was silent for a long time.

…

[No.: Persona-002]

[Identity: The child left behind by the demonizer]

[Outline: After she was adopted by a pair of pianist parents, she entered the most famous academy as a top student, but she didn't want to be a great creator, she just wanted to write free poetry.

She suffered school bullying and domestic violence because of her background. At this time, "Olivis" contacted her and saved her from despair. The two often sat on the grassland together and read poems. In the tranquility and happiness, she gradually began to believe that... life would definitely get better. As long as she was obedient and obedient enough, those who insulted her would gradually find that she was not so evil.

At this point in time, a key plot point is inserted - after reading a poem, she gave "Olivis" a white flower, which was the flower she took care of quietly every night. She extended an invitation to him. Could he bring his harp to accompany her next poem reading? "Olivis" agreed to her.

She fantasizes that her life will get better and better in the future, and people will gradually understand her kindness and will no longer look at her through colored glasses.

But after returning home this time, her parents believed that the crisis of demonization was imminent and that she was the child left behind by the demonizer, so they cut off her legs with their own hands to prevent her from harming others in the future.

The free bird can no longer go out, and she will no longer have the risk of attacking others - everyone feels at ease, and the child of the demon is studying hard for the future of mankind without any danger, which is really worthy of joy thing.

No one paid attention to her loss of legs. Everyone only sees that as a top student, she will always have excellent grades. In the future, she will definitely be able to produce high-profit assembly lines to benefit her family and younger siblings.

She once thought she had a bright future, but she found that the road was too far.

She once dreamed of an eagle spreading its wings, but she found that the wall was too high.

There will no longer be a white-haired girl running free on the lawn. The flowers she planted will wither and her poetry collection will be thrown into the fire.

Her friend brought the harp to the grass field, but never waited for the next poem reading. The sound of freedom floated in the air, and there was no trace of her under the warm sun.

The white daisies swayed, and the passing birds seemed to hear the distant echo,

So, they sang a song leisurely, as if they were remembering the girl poet whom they never saw again:

——"Floating in the blue sky, a wingless bird, with a light body, flying freely."

——"Unfettered, unfettered. Pages become feathers, words become songs...\