immortal person

When Lorenzo awoke, a cloak was tightly wrapped around him.It was strange, dark gray, made of extraordinary materials, probably the most precious piece of clothing for its owner.He clutched the soft fur of his cloak, blinking slowly.

It was just before dawn and there were no candles in the room. Lorenzo leaned against the wall with one hand resting on his forehead, waiting for the usual morning headache to subside.When he looked up, Giovanni was already standing by the door, and the light came in from behind him.

The young apprentice was fully dressed, his routine was always very good, and he got up to work before dawn.Lorenzo looked at him. From the perspective from the bottom up, the figure of the young man looked particularly straight and slender. Lorenzo's eyes stopped on the already handsome face, and then changed from thin and powerful His shoulders moved all the way to the slightly curled fingers at his waist.He could feel Giovanni tensing up, and so did he; the memory of last night flashed back quickly in his mind, and his head hurt even more.

Giovanni stood at the door for a moment, then came towards him, and handed him a silver cup containing clear water, sweet and cool, sweetened with honey and mint.Then Lorenzo took the warm hand towel from him. Lorenzo thanked him and wiped his face with it, knowing that he probably looked terrible now-it is always difficult for people with hangovers to maintain their appearance.So far, though, there's nothing worse than waking up in bed in the apprentice workshop.

He could still feel the aftereffects of his drunkenness, and he felt dizzy in fits and starts.Giovanni looked at him with concern in his eyes, but thoughtfully did not mention what happened last night.After a while, he said, "I'll ask Mr. Housekeeper."

Lorenzo shook his head.

After a night, his hair fell to the side of his neck, but there was no sign of a headband anywhere.Giovanni bent down and gathered the bits of hair from his cheeks behind his ears one by one.

Lorenzo looked up at him.

During this process, neither of them spoke.Giovanni seemed completely unaware of the impoliteness of what he was doing, his movements were delicate and patient, his downcast gray eyes were gentle.Lorenzo seemed to want to say something, but in the end he didn't speak.

After it was over, Giovanni straightened up, their eyes met in the air, and they looked away immediately.Lorenzo coughed very softly, and beckoned Giovanni to come to him.The silence between the two lasted for a moment, and Lorenzo was rarely so embarrassed to speak—in the end, Giovanni spoke first: "Your Highness."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," he said. "Don't worry."

He was so empathetic that Lorenzo felt uneasy, and perhaps a little guilty.The boy looked at him with his quiet bright gray eyes, and for the first time in his life, Lorenzo felt that he could not bear someone's gaze.

Some people have reflections of heaven in their eyes, he thought, so this is true.

He wanted to say something comforting, but his voice was so hoarse that he had to pick up the glass and take another sip as if to cover up.Giovanni frowned, looking concerned and anxious: "You need to rest."

Lorenzo smiled and said no.

After just two words, he fell into a situation where he had nothing to say.Perhaps this was the first time the two got along, and he became the more silent and reserved one.Some sentences are only suitable to be poured out at night, and some things should only be buried in the night.The daytime is vigilant because of its bright light, which is enough to obliterate all traces and excuses of ambiguity.Lorenzo suddenly realized that he woke up too late, since he walked in here last night, everything was doomed to go wrong.

Uncontrollably, he recalled Giovanni's whispers of the previous night.He may be drunk, but the person in front of him is not.He remembered the palpable tenderness in that sentence—perhaps not even the other client had noticed.

"Forgive me for being rash last night," he said finally, "for interrupting."

Intentionally, or not—he couldn't tell at the moment which he was—but he knew for certain that a crime had been committed, and they were all in it.He thought he should get out of here as soon as possible.

And it was my fault, he repeated in his mind, I was wrong.

On the way back to the study, Gian Sforza's face appeared in Lorenzo's mind again.It was a face that reappeared over and over again these days when he was at his most exhausted, like a ghost or a devil.In fact, he knew it was just an illusion born of guilt.

When he was brought before Ji An for the first time, both of them were 14 years old.The little prince of Milan was pale and thin, looking much younger than his actual age, and seemed unable to lift a sword.Unlike him, Ji'an, who grew up under the protection of his parents, was innocent and simple, with a rare kind heart. When hunting, he couldn't bear to shoot the horned sheep that was close at hand.On the contrary, when he was younger, his grandfather ordered him to cut open the chest cavity of a deer himself.

Don't say those words that make you weak, overcome your doe heart, Cosimo? Medici's old voice echoed in his ears.Do what you have to do, even at the expense of doing so.

Years ago, after meeting Ji An, his grandfather said to him: Remember this face, it will be your friend's face.Their friendship was determined by their fathers, and the purpose was not pure, but he and Ji An did become true friends of each other.They have too many hobbies in common: music, painting and ancient philosophy.On his last visit to Milan, Gian organized a grand harp recital for him, and Leonardo, his court painter, presented a harp of pure silver, the tone of which was better than any he had ever seen. Both are clearer.Ji An loved this piano, but still gave it to him without hesitation.

Friendship is one of the closest human beings can have, and he never questions that.But now he will stand idly by when his friend is in trouble, and even betray him and betray him.

"Don't spread rumors with others, don't join hands with the wicked to testify falsely, don't follow the crowd to do evil, don't follow the crowd to go astray in matters of litigation, testify against the righteousness", he meditated the scriptures in his heart, "Turn away from what is false, and do not kill the innocent but the righteous".He is about to rebel against the teaching of the scriptures.This is for the benefit of more people, because peace is always more honorable than bloodshed.So is Ji'an the burnt offering he wants to offer for this?Will this sin be forgiven?Will he become an unrighteous man?

—I have already been.thought Lorenzo.

He came to the study.He knew that at a quarter past eight o'clock, the Florentine nobles represented by Soderini and Pazzi would come here to listen to his final decision.And he would give an answer that satisfied them, even if it would make him regret it for the rest of his life.

He thought he would never pick up the harp again.

In Florence in summer, flowers are blooming everywhere, and people walk on the gray stone road, surrounded by fragrant breeze.Giovanni returned to the Medici Palace through St. Mark's Square, and saw an oriental-shaped white porcelain vase on the gilded sandalwood table in the hall, in which a bouquet of fresh and tender purple lilies was kept in clear water.He guessed it was a gift from the fleet manager of Venice, only they could bring back the goods from the ancient eastern country.

He went up to the third floor, and the door of Lorenzo's study was still closed.The city hall announced the resolution three days ago, and the Republic of Florence recognized Ludovico Sforza's title and recognized his status as Lord of Lombardy.He did not see Lorenzo again for several days.The maid said that the Duke had gone to Kareggie's villa for the summer.When he left, he was accompanied by only two or three attendants.

Lorenzo didn't tell him, of course, and he shouldn't feel disappointed.It's just that he sometimes repeatedly thinks about what happened that night, Lorenzo is leaning against him, and he can touch it with his hand.Like a dream, a phantom.Maybe it's because he's a little guy that Lorenzo opens up to him -- that's the most plausible explanation.But he was looking forward to an answer beyond reason, for example, Lorenzo really trusted him a lot...but he also understood that this was just a delusion.

He returns to his workshop.Previously he had seen only the beauty of sculpture, but Lorenzo had opened his eyes and moved his heart.He sat quietly in front of the unfinished statue of Hercules for a while, and before he picked up the chisel, the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

Giovanni was surprised to see his long-lost brother at the door.Leonardo Buonarroti hurried to his side, bringing the news of his father's death.

The author has something to say:

The two verses quoted in this article come from the Old Testament "Exodus".