The days of eating soft rice in London

The stove is about to burn out.

The frail young man had no idea how long he had been in a coma.He raised his head, his eye sockets were sunken, and even the groan seemed to be stuck in his throat.Oscar let out a breath with difficulty, and looked for shelter outside the window, but what he caught in front of his eyes was the hard, rusty iron window.

Burning pain swept through my back, and my head buzzed with choir hymns and passages from the Bible I had recited.

——"I will come quickly, and you must hold on to what you have."

——“May the Lord answer you in the day of your trouble, and may the God named Jacob exalt you. May he rescue you from the sanctuary and strengthen you from Zion.”

- "The LORD saves his anointed, and will answer him from his holy heaven; when all men bow and fall, we rise up and stand upright."

He is not a thief, he is not wrong, it is this stupid class and the law that only serves the nobles, like a whore with a mean face.

He was in so much pain that it seemed that the group of white doves in front of Westminster Abbey appeared in his blurred vision.

Oscar thought to himself, is he going to heaven?

"Boom-"

The door was suddenly pushed open heavily, and the sudden sound echoed in the prison instantly.

The next second, a tall gentleman appeared at the door.

This is not a place for a gentleman to step into.His face was pale and his brows were furrowed.The moment the door was pushed open, a strong smell of blood immediately overflowed the door, and the calm expression on the face of the gentleman who came all the way to save people suddenly cracked.

Louis' expression suddenly became uneasy, and he couldn't believe what kind of torture his Oscar would go through.

The stove was now completely burnt out.The room was dark, perhaps it was Oscar's unbelievable crouching that caught Louis' attention, and he quickly came to Oscar.

The golden soft hair of the person on the ground leaked out from a remote, dark and deep corner, slowly emerging from the abyss like a shark.

The heart of the tall gentleman half kneeling in front of Oscar was clenched into a ball.The appearance of the people on the ground curled up was heartbreaking, and Louis began to be angry at why he hadn't returned to the baron's mansion sooner.

He asked very gently, "Oscar?"

no respond.

Oscar broke out in a cold sweat, unable to move.He raised his heavy eyelids, and the beauty in those eyes was gone, leaving only an indescribable pain and despair.He stared at the roof with vacant eyes, and slowly stretched out a hand, like a survivor of a shipwreck looking for a rope to pull among the waves.

Gentleman immediately squeezed that hand.

"Oscar." This was the second time he called Oscar's name.

But the other party still looked like a skeleton with empty eye sockets, his lips trembled a few times before his eyes slowly turned to him: "Mr. Louis."

The dry and hoarse voice seemed to be squeezed out of the throat, causing the chest diaphragm to vibrate violently.If that rib was a birdcage, the bird of life might fly away from it in the next second.

"Yes, it's me."

Louis avoided the wound, gently picked up the person on the ground, and quickly walked out of the prison.

"The coachman!"

The coachman who stopped not far away quickly rushed to stop in front of Louis.The coachman was obviously taken aback when he saw that the master had actually picked up a bloody man from the prison.Not daring to interfere with the owner's affairs, he immediately got out of the car and opened the door for the owner.

Louis put the man in his arms on the black velvet back seat, and sat beside him, still holding his hand.Looking at the paper-white face, which was completely different from ten days ago, the gentleman's thin lips were tightened into a line.

He will let all the villains who bully Oscar get the punishment they deserve.

***

Oscar was in a coma, and dreamed that he was forcefully put on the jaw by the guard, and the sharp iron tongue was tightly clamping his tongue in his mouth, giving people a painful pain of wanting to bite his tongue.

Oscar yelled frantically in his dream, repeating over and over: "I'm not a thief."

He vaguely heard someone replying to him indistinctly and over and over again: "I know, Oscar." "I know you are not."

Oscar suddenly opened his eyes, realizing that he had already left the execution room.

Not only that, he was lying on a big bed, the fire was burning hot, and the velvet quilt was light and warm, covering his lower back, only his bloody and bruised back was exposed.

Sitting beside the bed was Mr. Lewis, who was watching him.

Oscar tried to get up from the bed, but fell back hard. "Mr. Lewis."

The gentleman glanced at his back that had been pulled to the wound, and frowned slightly. "How do you feel?"

"Thank you, I'm much better." But he still looked extremely weak.

Oscar smelled a strange mixed fragrance in the room, and noticed that it was all rising from some rotating incense burners, and asked: "What is this, sir?"

"A herb of America." Incense it to heal your wounds.

The two suddenly fell silent.

The room was flickering with various emerald and violet lights and fire shadows, and the rising sun shone in through the French windows framed with a single piece of red glass, like a waterfall of molten silver. The wall decoration cascaded down, pouring light into the room from a thousand angles.

Oscar looked at everything around him, and seemed to like the placement of these decorations.

Louis kept staring at Oscar's shiny blond hair, and said unexpectedly——

"I bought this house, I hope you like it."

The author has something to say: Louis: If you love him, buy him a house.

Writing is very slow. I have revised to the present, and then I stayed up all night. This is not good.

Please collect it!

Daily sleepiness, good night everyone. _(:_」∠)_