Old-time musicians

Woodpecker Consulting Office, Office 209 on the second floor.

The effect of the gas heating pipeline is very obvious. Sheeran sat in front of Fanning's desk, wearing only a thin plain dress, barefoot in cotton slippers, and a maroon cape draped over the back of the chair.

On the desk with fiddle-back walnut wood, there was a pile of books that was almost one meter high, crooked and ready to fall at any time, and books and manuscripts were scattered in other places.

Sheeran put down the pen, picked up the long Colin cup on the table, drank a sip of ice milk, and then rubbed his face tiredly.

There was a knock on the door, and then a boy in formal clothes and carrying a briefcase pushed the door in.

"Oh my God, it's so hot inside, the heating pipeline of the Guidance School is too fierce." Fanning quickly took off his black coat.

Xilan stood up: "You're back, Carolan. I covered your blanket last night and slept on your sofa."

"Oh, it's okay." Fanning waved his hand carelessly, picked up the milk on the table, and drank half of it directly. "I haven't used these yet. Well, I'm thirsty."

"But I've drunk this before." The little girl in a dress covered her mouth with one hand in surprise, and the redness on her cheeks spread all the way to her collarbone.

Fanning's movements were stunned for a moment: "I didn't mean it."

"A full cup, I thought it was new, sorry, I asked them to send another cup."

After a few seconds of awkwardness, Fanning coughed and asked: "How is Wenxian? I feel that your face is pale and red, and you don't seem to sleep well last night. Is it uncomfortable here?"

"It's quite comfortable here, better than Dad's office. The sleep time last night was also normal, but the translation of Wenxian is a bit tiring."

"Don't be so anxious, Xilan, just move forward slowly and step by step. We'll go downstairs and walk around the street later. Letchi Street not far away is the most prosperous commercial area in East Mecklen."

"Knowing that Wenxian may be related to Dad's death After I found out the reason for the translation, I also wanted to translate it as soon as possible. But the situation of this book can be said to be quite strange, no, it is simply unheard of. "

Fanning couldn't help but be curious: "Unheard of?"

Shilan raised his hand to show nearly ten pages of paper fixed with paper clips: "Look, after I came here last night, it only took me nearly two hours to translate the main part of this book - the Turangalian language with a slightly academic writing style is not very difficult for me. "

Fanning looked at the beautiful font on it: "So, it's so simple? What's strange about it?"

"Take a look at this and you will know."

Shilan pulled out a piece of pressed paper from the bottom of the table.

Fanning walked to Shilan's side, supported the table, and looked at this woodblock printing paper that was even larger than the A2 size in his previous life.

At a glance, he felt that he was about to have intensive phobia.

The paper was filled with dense text boxes drawn by Xilan. Some of the boxes were filled with words, while others were empty and scattered. They were connected, interlaced, and guided by lines and arrows. There were solid lines, dotted lines, wavy lines, double lines, crossed lines, question mark lines, and lines with text annotations. Some were one-to-one, sometimes one-to-many, many-to-many, some were one-way and sometimes two-way. The lines and lines formed a huge and messy maze.

Roughly speaking, there were at least two hundred text boxes and nearly a thousand connecting lines!

"What...what does this mean? Didn't you say that the main text was translated in two hours?"

Fan Ning was sweating all over. He looked at the paper and then at the other stack of words that were as delicate as poems.

Whether these two are similar or not, at least they are completely unrelated...

Shiran explained: "The main part of this anonymous document is a long narrative poem written in Turangalian, which only accounts for about 5% of the entire book."

"Then the rest includes four types of comments, indexes, annotations and supplementary explanations. These appendix contents are obscure and mutually quoted. Some are nested and some are cross-cutting..."

"For example-"

Shiran said, extending her slender jade finger, pointing to a line of the long poem she wrote and reading: "... We are bathing in a pleasant pilgrimage, the pleasure is fleeting, and the pain is greater than before, like a palm on a wax surface, like an eggshell immersed in salt water, like nutrients covering the mountains. Bright red The Great Mother picked us up one by one in the secret, gathered us into fuel to reflect the radiance, and witnessed the unborn day..."

"It is not very difficult to translate the main part into such literal information, but it is full of symbolism and metaphors, and it is unclear. For example, when I read this paragraph, there were four marks in the original text, indicating that I could refer to the comment on line 1405, the indexes 225 and 226, and the supplementary instructions on page 140. I followed the prompts and searched back. The content of the comment on line 1405 pointed to the index 410. The indexes 225 and 226 required me to understand the other seven hints in the original text, and the supplementary instructions on page 140 and the index 410 complemented the prayer annotations of group 75..."

"What's annoying is that the languages ​​of these information fragments are different! According to the historical geographical distribution, they cover the ancient Hofman, Turangalian, and Noa languages ​​in the current Tioraine, the ancient Lange, Tungusic, and Nilemman languages ​​used by the border people in the remote southwest, the Bega, Gemini, Mixed Lydian, and Ancient Janus languages ​​in the history of the Western Continent, the knot language and well language of the natives before the discovery of the Southern Continent, and the ancient Chaniz language that is independent of these systems and whose origin is a mystery..."

Shiran's hands Scratching his hair, he sighed in frustration: "Carlon, now you know why I drew this paper like this."

Fanning was already dizzy, and he sighed: "Sheeran, you can comb it like this in one night and one morning. I think your fighting power has reached the ceiling..."

At this time, he recalled the evaluation of this nameless document made by the "translator" at the underground party, Professor Lorraine Browne, who had been deformed and died: a huge ball of yarn that often gets stuck.

It's quite vivid.

"There are still gains." Sheeran said, "Although the details of the main poem are vague and the symbols and metaphors are unclear, fortunately it is narrative as a whole. If I extract its skeleton according to the literal meaning, I still read some information."

Fanning, who had just sat down on the sofa, jumped up again.

"What?" He became excited.

Shilan narrated: "The narrative framework of the main text is about an opera artist and spiritual practitioner 'Banshuwa' in the late Turungarian Dynasty, who traveled around the western continent in search of an ancient relic. According to the literal meaning, during the journey, he made an attempt to open 'a certain door with a price', which eventually drove him crazy."

"What attempt?"

"If it is literally translated into Hoffmann, it can be named-"

Shilan rolled his eyes and thought for a moment: "Turungarian Illusion Secret Art."