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Chapter 1243: One Thousand Two Hundred and Forty Chapter [What wings do you use, and to which heaven do you fly? ]

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

Su Ming'an 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 booklet, a little reserved, but also a little eager: "Oliviers. I wrote a new poem... do you want to hear it?"

"Yeah." He heard himself respond.

It seems that this experience is the coexistence of Si Que and his friends.

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

"[Daisies sway in the spring breeze,]"

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

“【I don’t envy the birds flying high, I just want to be like this, enjoying the time quietly.】

"[In the embrace of Mother Earth, daisies bloom, year after year...]"

Si Que listened quietly. Above the grass, only the clear voice of the girl could be heard.

Red butterflies land on swaying daisies, and the recitation of poetry is like a flowing stream.

After reading it, the girl held the book in her arms, blinking her bright eyes: "...How is it?"

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

"I can feel your spiritual energy towards nature." said Si Que.

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

"There is no good or bad in literature, and every word is equal." Si Que said, "I like the artistic conception of your poem, that's enough."

The girl was stunned for a moment, then said, "But people say your work is good, and compare it with others' work, and belittle others' work. 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. 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 follow the public opinion, but in fact, I don't think my writing is much better than others, it's just that they 'like it'. This does not mean that what is disliked should be denounced as garbage."

The white-haired girl lowered her head, as if she understood something.

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

"……it is good."

The girl's face showed a happy expression. She turned the page, revealing densely packed beautiful small characters, and read the poem that belonged to her:

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

"【Unfettered, unfettered. The pages are feathers, the words are songs.】"

“【Fly over the mountains, cross the oceans. Wander freely in the poems, write in ink, and create a gallery of poems and paintings.】”

"[O wingless bird, oh bird, what wings do you have, and to which heaven are you flying...]"

She read, and Si Que listened quietly.

She stopped and Si Que waited quietly.

Su Mingan didn't expect that Si Que's experience would be so heartwarming. Compared with the time when he was being eaten, this experience made people feel lighter. It turned out that Si Que also had such a good friend. There was no interest or impurity between them, just pure poetry sharing and chatting.

Until the setting sun gradually fell into the end of the field and the stars fell, it was as if a fairy tale had finally ended, and the moonlight flowed on them.

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

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

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

"Give my regards to Ms. Lin Wangan for me," said Si Que.

"Okay, I'll tell my mother. But I can't let them know that I've made friends with the famous Creator, otherwise they will definitely try to get close to you." The girl smiled and said, "Okay, I'm going home now. I'll write a poem for you next time."

"..."

The magpie was still lying on the lawn.

His fingers kept bending over and over again, as if hesitating about something.

"—wait a moment." He began.

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

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

The white-haired girl smiled and responded:
"Thank you, Oliver."

"I never thought that a tiny person like me would be valued by the great creator of Luowasha and become his friend. You often come to listen to my poetry... Even if they are just insignificant poems that no one would like, you always encourage me."

"Meeting you is truly the luckiest thing that has ever happened to me in this unfortunate life."

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

The white-haired girl waved at him, turned around, and walked briskly, her long skirt fluttering like a white daisy swaying in the sunset, with an extremely happy smile.

"By the way." She suddenly stopped.

She didn't look back, and her timid voice floated over with the wind:
"Next time... could you bring a harp and play music for my poem? I heard... you are very good at the harp."

"it is good."

Si Que agreed.

A smile appeared on her face, and then she took a step forward, slowly, and left at the end of the horizon.

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

“…good person.” He repeated this word over and over again, and suddenly laughed at himself. He didn’t know what he was laughing at: “She said I’m a good person, ha, hahahaha…”

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 flash of white light passed, and he returned to his room. The fire crackled in the fireplace, the floor was covered with paper airplanes, and the kerosene lamp was emitting a dim light.

He sat at the mahogany table with an unfinished draft paper spread out.

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

……

[No.: Character Design-002]

[Identity: The child left behind by the demonized one]

[Outline: After being adopted by a pair of pianist parents, she entered the most famous college as a top student, but she did not want to become a great creator, she just wanted to write free poetry.

Because of her background, she suffered from school bullying and domestic violence. At this time, "Olivis" contacted her and saved her from despair. The two often sat together on the grassland and recited poems. In peace and happiness, she gradually began to believe... life will definitely get better. As long as she is well-behaved and obedient, those who humiliated her will gradually find that she is not so evil.

At this point, a key plot is inserted - after reciting a poem, she gave Oliver a white flower, which she took care of quietly every night. She invited him to bring a harp to accompany her next poetry recitation, and Oliver agreed.

She fantasized that her life would get better and better, and people would gradually appreciate her kindness and no longer look at her with tinted glasses.

But after returning home this time, her parents believed that the demonization crisis 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 be at risk of attacking others - everyone feels at ease, and the demonized children are studying hard for the future of mankind and are not in any danger. This is really something to be happy about.

No one paid attention to her because she had lost her legs. Everyone only saw that she was a top student with excellent grades and that she would be able to produce high-yield assembly line texts in the future to benefit her family and her younger brothers and sisters.

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

She had imagined herself as an eagle spreading her wings, but she found the wall was too high.

There will never again be a white-haired girl running freely on the lawn. The flowers she planted withered and the poetry collections were thrown into the fire.

Her friend brought her harp to Caoye, but never waited for the next poetry reading. The sound of freedom floated in the air, and her figure was no longer seen under the warm sun.

The white daisies swayed, and the passing birds seemed to hear the distant echo.
Then, they sang slowly, as if they were missing the poet girl whom they would never see again:

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

——"Unconstrained, unfettered. Paper is feather, words are song..."】

……

"——Bird, what wings do you use, and to which heaven do you fly..."

The young man's voice floated through the room, reciting her poems.

Yes.

The white-haired girl is a character he "created".

But he didn't expect that he just wanted to observe her character growth, but her spirit and smile touched him.

He began to feel sorry for the tragic fate he had written for her, even though her life came from his pen.

His quill pen remained on the draft paper, and he was slow to write the ending.

“…She called me a good person.”

"She doesn't know that her tragedy comes from my writing."

The tip of his pen landed on [her parents believed that she was in danger of becoming a demon, so they cut off her legs with their own hands], and the tip of the pen was slightly flat, as if he wanted to cross out the line, but he paused for a moment and closed his eyes.

He pressed his fingers on his temples, massaging them again and again, struggling violently inside.

"I can't delete the tragedy." He said to himself: "If I delete it, this story will be dull and she will lose her brilliance and exit the historical stage of Luowasha in the future. She will never become a brilliant character and can only be an ordinary person on the side of the road."

He frowned, his quill trembled, and he seemed to be in a struggle.

——If a person wants to become a "highlight character in the story", he is destined to experience pain, tragedy and struggle, endure school violence, broken legs, and be exploited by his relatives. If he does not experience these, this person will lose his value and become dull. So, should he delete this person's suffering and make this person happy and mediocre?

Si Que closed his eyes and sighed softly.

"..."

He remembered her happy smile and the trust in her eyes, and his heart was filled with complicated feelings.

——Is this the fantasy of a nihilist, or is it the bitterness destined by the creator?

——Is the creator a villain? Creating a tragedy for the sake of a perfect story, and seeing the fate of the people he created with his own eyes... should this be called cruel?
How ridiculous...

If her future wasn't so sad and cruel, would he still like her so much?
Would he have still longed to witness the beauty in her humanity if her tragedy had not been so profound?
If a person loses the tragic beauty that can only take root in death, will he still be so unforgettable?

To admire the ultimate brilliance displayed in a person - doesn't it come from the tragedy that this person is destined to be?

At that moment, he suddenly understood that the most powerful [Creator] should not invest his feelings in anyone.

"Good man..."

He repeated the name, thinking of the girl's smile, her last happy look back... and the harp in her mouth.

It was as if a white daisy bloomed on her body, and her slender body grew upward, growing countless flowers and leaves. The slender white petals and the overlapping golden stamens gently collided, like the whispers of living creatures, or the echoes of laughter. She looked back at him, and the whole white daisy bloomed towards him, and the dead buds underneath grew, absorbing the last bit of air at the tip of the pen.

At this time, Su Mingan said: "...but if you feel pain, then change her fate."

When Si Que heard this "self-talk", he was confused that he would say such words, but he still did not put pen to paper.

Once changed...she will become a mediocre passerby.

Or maybe he had a reason that he couldn't change. He needed... this girl's existence for a greater goal.

He put down his quill and looked at the tragedy, seeming to laugh at himself.

Then, Su Ming'an heard the most powerful creator of Luovasa pick up a harp and sing in the flickering light of a kerosene lamp.

Paper airplanes and paper flowers were scattered all over the ground, like white daisies in full bloom.

……

"Daisies sway in the spring breeze," the young man said in a deep voice, with clear strings:

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

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

"【Unfettered, unfettered. The pages are feathers, the words are songs.】"

“【Fly over the mountains, cross the oceans. Wander freely in the poems, write in ink, and create a gallery of poems and paintings.】”

"[O wingless bird, oh bird, what wings do you have, and to which heaven are you flying...]"

……

O wingless bird, oh bird,

What are your wings?

Which heaven are you flying to?

What made that heaven?
Suffering, tragedy—or a glorious death?

I sing of tragedy and death, write of sorrow,
Waiting for the glory of destiny, or that moment of delusion.

Just create, don't pay attention to the role,
We should only give it a soul, but not sympathize with its demise.

We should only wait for its ultimate glory to be revealed, and not feel sorry for its demise.
O wingless bird, oh bird,

What are your wings?

Which heaven are you flying to?

Will heaven be,

The library looks like.

……