ethereal wings

Ablation

ablation

At four o'clock that night, whether René Descartes wanted it or not, the biological clock he had acquired while teaching in Sweden awakened him again.However, the concealed door and the splashed ink made him full of fear and worry about his roommate's whereabouts.Holding the lamp, the cloak flew across the bushes under the night, and he came to the library of the association, the church, and the discussion rooms of various groups, but found nothing.When the first ray of sunlight fell in the morning, he pushed open the door of the archive room.This ray of sunlight also illuminated his startled eyes.

When Pascal woke up, he was still lying in the familiar room and the familiar bed as on the morning of August 1762, 8.But when Descartes brought him a mirror, he realized that everything about himself had changed: the long black curly hair was much thicker, hanging down over his shoulders; the slightly sallow face of the oval egg was full of traces of time. Disappeared, leaving only the childishness and greenness that have not faded; everything has shrunk, only the gaze in the eyes and the inner soul have not changed.A 19-year-old body inhabited by centuries of soul, what a paradoxical combination.

A suit of small-looking, brightly colored, soft fabrics was handed over.Obviously too young, too childish.Pascal thought so, but found that he stretched out a pair of very small hands at the same time.

The end result is a suit that fits well and fits well.After he put on those seemingly small shoes and stood up, he suddenly felt that everything around him was much taller.

Pascal had to struggle to look up at Descartes, he never imagined that this thin French man could look so tall one day.Obviously, his thinking couldn't keep up with his suddenly young body. Just as Pascal wanted to move forward, he bumped into Descartes' stomach.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Descartes..." Pascal stopped before finishing his sentence.He clearly wasn't ready for his own voice at 16.

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Although Pascal from the past to the present, as he has repeatedly emphasized, has always firmly believed that the greatness of human thinking does not depend on the smallness of the body, but after June 1775, he once experienced some wavering in his thinking, and he was almost about to devote himself to Because of the materialism that matter determines consciousness, this is because the improvement of the body (he sometimes prefers to call it "the reduction of the body") has relieved most of his ailments, and he can now face the cause he loves with almost nothing. into it with apprehension.

At the beginning, Descartes was still worried about this kid who seemed to have no better health than when he was 39 years old, and he was not allowed to leave the world domain of the association and enter the real world, but later Descartes realized that he was obviously thinking too much .

It is now Paris, France in 1777.In front of the small Arsenal Square, people crowded and talked.A young man, dressed in the most fashionable dress in Paris, with a silver wig swaying in the wind, with an arrogant but just right expression, and his assistant, manipulated the mechanical handle on the experimental table, which made the huge glass fixed above Move just in front of the bell jar of the lab bench.

"Such a huge convex lens..." Facing the wind, Pascal squinted and said.Due to his height, he was being held by Fermat to ensure he could see clearly ahead.

"Mr. Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier prefers to call it the 'Fire Mirror'." Descartes shook his sore right arm. He had been supporting Pascal for some time before, and now he only The kid with some weight successfully begged (or "get rid of") to Fermat who came with him.The three memoir incarnations look like people in the 18th century, though they grumble slightly when they wear the complicated clothes that were most fashionable at the time.

Like all enthusiastic amateurs, Fermat introduced with great enthusiasm and professionalism, "This fire mirror is at least a quarter of the size of a bed, and Mr. Lavoisier will use it to ignite the mercury in the bell jar. The whole set of devices is under weighing, and he will prove that the mass remains unchanged before and after the reaction..."

"But what he wants to show is that the matter does not become lighter during combustion... This is obviously a blow to the phlogiston theory." Descartes interrupted Fermat, "Such experiments have also been carried out by British Cavendish. have been done, but it never occurred to him that such experiments could effectively disprove an established prevailing theory." Over the past few years, since Pascal's health has improved, several Memoir Incarnations have thrown themselves extensively into the frontiers of the real world Among them, in Paris, Descartes, Pascal and others participated in one salon after another, which was undoubtedly much more interesting than the academic seminars in the association (of course, after hearing Voltaire’s criticism of himself, Descartes’ criticism of this British However, when he found out that Voltaire was ignorant of mathematics and made a wanton evaluation, he felt that this was justifiable; Pascal felt that he had returned to the period of "secular life" in Paris, and some At that time he found that he couldn't help but miss the girl he had an unrequited love for at that time).

Several enthusiastic ladies crowded forward, their gorgeous headdresses blocking the view of the three.Fermat anxiously put down Pascal and walked to the front. "With your current appearance and demeanor, you can impress them, Mr. Fermat." Descartes said maliciously, and he turned his head to look at Pascal again (to be precise, he looked down), " Pascal, what do you think?"

"I know you won't lift me up again, but I still want to thank you for bringing me out, because according to you, a kid like me seems to be the key target of human traffickers." Pascal said slightly sarcastically, "But ...I have to admit that you are somewhat similar to my father in some respects. He stopped me from learning mathematics out of concern for my health, but in the end he completely compromised after I proved the interior angle sum problem of a triangle. Flute Mr Carl?"

Pascal didn't think he said anything radical, but Descartes obviously seemed to have heard a great compliment to him, and now he looked at this kid with a very affectionate expression, which made Pascal's hair stand on end.

Pascal's concerns are justified.Afterwards, even though he heard that his vortex and ether theory gradually declined because the Cartesians did not recognize Newton's law of universal gravitation, Descartes was no longer angry. He seemed to be concentrating on doing something secret, and Constantly distracting everyone around.

On this day, Pascal sat reading a book in his bedroom on the second floor of the main building of the French Pavilion as usual.In the past period of time, he seems to have been surrounded by mathematics. From Euler to Lambert, his desk is full of various books, calculation papers and drawing tools.However, the more you are surrounded by mathematics, it is inevitable that this sensitive and lonely heart will recall those times when you forget your inner pain by research.The older sisters appeared in front of him again, as if they were still standing in front of his bed yesterday...

"Bryce Pascal?" Suddenly the door creaked open, and a furry head poked in.

"Mr. Descartes, what's the matter?"

"Today is June 6, have you forgotten your birthday? Come out, I have a gift for you."

Before Pascal could finish writing the determinant, he was dragged downstairs by Descartes.In a blink of an eye they were standing in front of the room on the first floor facing the garden, the door of which had never been opened before.

Descartes opened Pascal's little hand abruptly, and stuffed it into a small key. "Open it yourself. This is the new bedroom I arranged for you."

"You are too excited..." Pascal said and opened the door.After seeing everything in the room, he couldn't help being speechless.

The light-colored translucent curtains hide the hazy garden outside the window, blown by the first ray of wind in summer, and gently pass over the small wooden desk in front of the window.The furniture is all in one set, with simple wood and light patterns, waiting there quietly for the owner.There is also a small single bed, covered with pale chaff-colored sheets, like wildflowers just blooming.All of this is exactly the same as his original home in Clermont, in the department of Vogne.

Pascal stepped forward and touched the table.Everything seemed to be home again, the home I had always wanted.The longing for home and love, despite such complex and painful ordeals, is still so simple and strong.The desert in my heart meets the long-lost rain. At that moment, actions and words are secondary.

Tears flowed down from my eyes, and memories of my childhood flooded into my heart. After so many years of ups and downs, the most simple desire in my heart has always existed and never weakened.

Descartes stepped forward and supported Pascal's trembling body from sobbing. "I stayed in Clermont City for a long time in the past, just to try to restore your living environment at that time. Bryce?" He quietly changed his name, "You should look above your bed... that is The only place where I didn't follow the past."

Pascal turned his head, and there was an elegant oil painting on the wall above his bed. Although the scenery on it was scribbled, it was so familiar. It was the appearance of his home in Clermont City, his birthplace.Do you need more complicated forms to move a person?Sometimes what is most needed is not the praise and reputation of the world, but the simple care of others.

It’s the melting of the ice, it’s the soft puffing sound it makes... Everything, everything, seems to be in a flash, besides the cold rational principles, there is something more mysterious, so hazy and beautiful... Even The parallels in "The Book of Wisdom" are also hard to describe this feeling, "It's like the fluff fluttering in the wind, like the foam being blown up by the waves, like the smoke being blown away by the wind, like greeting the guests from the past. memories."

"Sorry, I'm an amateur and my drawing skills are not good..." Before Descartes finished speaking, the crying child had already thrown himself into his arms.

"Mr. Descartes..."

"Just call me Rene."

He gently put his arms around the weather-beaten child.Such an emotional moment, but also so familiar...

France!

☆, family