Chapter 709 Black Cello

The deep cello played in the night, the streets along the way were particularly clean and cold, and the sound of trickling water was particularly clear in the darkness.

...

Many people take it for granted that the interstellar era should be lively and noisy, with various information intertwined. In videos and movies, many characters perform never-ending song and dance dramas. Whether vulgar or elegant, they all have their own audiences. Performers and viewers form a circulating circle, and emotions of sorrow, joy, anger and anger linger in it.

Such cognition comes from living in a city where the lights never go out for a long time, and from the uninterrupted narration and accompaniment of each video and movie. People have become accustomed to a world with music, and have become accustomed to labeling everything with various short words.

If, one day.

Turn off the electronic devices at hand and in life, and enter a completely quiet world, a world without people, in that long dark night where you can hear a needle, a monotonous world without any accompaniment or music, what will you think of.

Is it a long memory, a deep fear of facing the unknown, or a long-lost peace and relaxation?

The bizarre information is like a torrent that engulfs the people of this era, making people laugh wildly, anxious, confused, and angry. Many concepts and opinions are like invisible strings, manipulating the puppets below to laugh and cry.

All moods are like flashing diodes, constantly flashing and jumping.

When this process is suddenly interrupted one day and returns to the gray and monotonous reality, a strong discomfort will spread, urging them to return to that wonderful world again.

Objectively speaking, the life of an ordinary person is short and poor, like wearing a thick raincoat, holding an umbrella, walking hurriedly in the dark streets.

The unknown and uneasiness are always everywhere, and there is always a voice in my heart urging me to get through this stage as soon as possible, but turning a street will be another street, and there is no place for you to relax and rest.

It takes a strong will to fight against the torrent of the times, and to turn around and face the darkness, you must have the courage to look at yourself with all kinds of shortcomings, cowardice, and even meanness.

~'If you are not a saint, don't force yourself to go down that path. '~

In the quiet room, a black-haired man held a cello in his hands. He was dressed in all black, and his shoulder-length black hair swayed slightly as the bow was pulled.

The immersive music played, telling the life of quiet darkness, which was isolated from the outside world's evaluation and unique to his aesthetics and taste.

The incandescent filament passed through the yellowed glass lampshade and emitted a halo to illuminate the table, on which was placed an old detective novel. The man sitting at the table was wearing a gray-brown woolen sweater and holding a cup of freshly brewed hot coffee in his hand.

The sound of the cello crossed the low valley and gradually entered the soaring night sky. It was a magnificent sadness of a solitary bird flying, grabbing the heart of the audience.

...

...

The long song ended in constant ups and downs, and the slowly released emotions seemed to still surround this room, in the dark night outside the window.

The cup of coffee was gently put down, and it collided with the porcelain plate at the base, making a subtle sound.

"It's been a long time since I heard you play the cello, Prince." The man sitting at the table was a little nostalgic, thinking of the scenes of his youth, but unfortunately everything was like a yellowed and faded photo, blurry.

The black-haired man in black put down the cello in his hand, and his booted feet stepped on the wooden floor, making a sound in the quiet night. He picked up the tin kettle from the stove on the other side, poured himself some hot water, and tasted it slowly.

"Tell me, what are you looking for me for?" He sat opposite the man, holding the cup with his fingers and shaking it gently, as if it was not just hot water, but rare wine.

"I want you to kill someone." The man spoke slowly.

"Who?" The black-haired Prince continued to shake the hot water in the cup, watching the steam evaporate.

"My daughter."

"What a sad story."

The two fell into a long silence and quiet.

"I remember the last time we met more than 30 years ago, when you said you married a very good wife, and told us old friends that you would retire from the future and no longer get involved in dark and dangerous things."

"Now, you come to tell me this." His voice was low and like the friction of crow feathers.

With a long sigh, the man in the gray-brown wool sweater picked up the old detective novel at hand, which contained an old murder case printed in black lead type.

"Novels often weave reasonable motivation logic for behaviors that ordinary people cannot understand."

"But in reality, only one impulse is needed."

"I will be responsible for my past impulses and end the prophecy that has not yet been fulfilled." His fingers turned the pages that kept passing by, his eyes dazed.

"Prophecy? Do you still believe in this legacy of the past superstitious era? If prophecy is really effective, then all social operations now can rely on it to guide it." The black-haired man shook his head, not understanding how the decisive and resolute man in the past became what he is now.

"Yes, I didn't believe it at first." The man put down the book.

"In the past, I was so rebellious. I could decisively carry out any task, have my own principles, find the balance between reality and ideals, and continue to achieve success."

"Looking back now, I was so confident and determined at that time, and I never regretted any decision. If I really regretted it, I would use the gun and sword in my hand to make it reasonable."

"What about now? Have you, the lone wolf, grown old?

You actually spent so much effort to find my secluded place and ask for help from me, an old friend who is waiting to die." "I have indeed grown old. I don't even dare to face the mistakes I made in the past, that huge mistake." The man looked at the gradually cooling coffee and slowly closed his eyes.

"I shouldn't have let those two children be born. They shouldn't have appeared in this world."

"Why do you say that? Aren't those two children very beautiful? They are even very kind. Even without you, they have not fallen into depravity." Prince blew on the hot water and drank it slowly.

"Yes, in the eyes of others, I not only have the best wife, but also two angelic daughters."

"But what if they really are angels, gods who have never been born into this world?" The man told the truth he knew.

"Do you know the story about Pandora in Greek mythology?"

"I know." Prince did not wait for the other party to speak, but continued.

"I also know what you are going to tell me, about the magic box in Pandora's hand, and the final thing in it."

"Yes, it is 'hope'."

As if he had made up his mind, the man in the woolen sweater stood up and walked around the room.

"When will people grow up?"

"The answer is in despair."

"When will children leave their families?"

"The answer is when they know that this family can no longer provide the freedom and space they need."

"I was very young at that time. I didn't like the various fallacies, deceptions, and injustices I saw in life. I also hated those cowardly and numb people. I thought I didn't care about these phenomena and mundane things."

"As a result, you chose your ideals and betrayed the organization at the most critical moment." Prince replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, when people make choices, there are actually not so many big principles, it's just the impulse of pausing for a few seconds."

"I thought I did a good job, replacing the special test tube found in that mission and preserving it."

"Yes, we didn't realize it, and we all believed that it was just something made up by a crazy cult. If there really was such a treasure, it would have been confiscated by the federal officials or the cult long ago." Prince put down the cup.

"Until ten years ago, we didn't care about that little thing back then, thinking that you just fell in love with that beautiful oriental girl and chose to leave the organization for the sake of your family."

"Although it was very unhappy back then, everyone still didn't blame you too much and let you leave after the incident."

"Now more than 30 years have passed, some of my former companions are no longer there, some have retired, and some are hiding in hard-to-find places like me, but now you suddenly tell me to help you get rid of your daughter."

"I thought you were a very calm, logical, decisive and rational person." Prince continued to shake his head.

"You look like an old lion that has been driven out of the lion group, exuding a contemptible and rotten stench." He leaned back in his chair and slowly said the mocking words.

"Besides, who do you think I am?"

"Now I am the crow guarding the cemetery, quietly waiting for the day when I will be buried."

"I have no obsession, nor do I have gratitude and hope for anyone. You can't convince me."

After saying this, the two fell into a long period of dullness.

The man stood by the window, looking at the dark streets outside, the cold and deserted city.

"This is where you grew up." He suddenly spoke again, this time without continuing the previous topic.

"Yes." Prince stood up and came to the window.

"There weren't many people here before, but I like this quiet environment without disturbance."

"Is there anyone living here now?"

"Besides me, there should be two more families."

"Can I visit them tomorrow?"

"Go ahead, but don't tell them you're my friend."

"Ha."

The two stopped talking.

...

The next day.

The man brought a small gift he had prepared and came to a gray house in the city and knocked on the door gently.

After waiting for a long time, there was no response, so he knocked on the door again, and the bang bang sound echoed in the empty street.

Just like that, an hour later, the old wooden door slowly opened, revealing the hunched old woman inside. She wore thick glasses and had a mottled and faded robot dog beside her. Part of the robot dog's shell had fallen off, revealing its circuit and structure.

"Who are you?" The old woman reluctantly raised her head and looked at the man.

"I'm a newcomer to this place. I want to know something from you. This is a small gift for you." The man showed the gift box in his hand.

"No need." The old man closed the door, and then the door closed again.

After hitting a wall, the man changed to another house, which was a house near the suburbs, with messy weeds all over the yard.

When he arrived, the old man was walking in a wheelchair, looking at the cemetery not far from the suburbs, and the personal terminal beside him was playing the radio, telling the latest news and current events.

When the man appeared, the old man was obviously a little surprised, and even directly pressed the alarm device on the wheelchair, which attracted several riot control units to take off from the city and rush over here.

"I'm not a gangster, I just want to say a few words to you." The man explained, but the old man still shook his head in disbelief.

Later, the riot control unit arrived, and after some questioning and explanation, and under the attention of these riot control units, the man slowly left the yard.

In the next few days, he still tried various ways to greet the two people in the city, and then settled down here, and began to plant trees and trim the messy vines and plants.

Just like that, three months later, the old man saw the garden full of roses while walking, and nodded slightly to greet him.

Later, the woman who lived alone finally accepted the flowers sent by the man and asked him to come in for a cup of tea.

"So you and Prince know each other." As they talked, the two men knew the man's purpose and expressed such emotion.

"That child lived like this since he was a child. Later, he grew up and went out to make a living. He didn't come back until ten years ago." The old woman recalled.

...

"You asked about Prince's childhood. That child didn't like to talk since he was a child. He pouted like a little adult and didn't fit in with others."

...

"Speaking of extraordinary and special things, I really don't remember anything. The only impression is that he played the violin very well at that time, and a girl confessed to him for this."

...

"The result? The result was no result. They separated after about two months of being together. We don't know the specific reason. Now it seems that Prince is probably not the kind of music prince that young girls fantasize about." The old woman commented, and she laughed as she spoke, as if she was thinking of her own youth.

...

"His personality should be very stubborn, but it will not be shown on the surface, but vented in music. That is probably the world he likes." Another old man recalled.

“There are actually quite a few people like this, but they won’t show it in a short period of time together. And most of the time people can’t see themselves clearly. They think they can make do with it, but when they really face that kind of situation, they can’t stand it at all.” The old man once again talked about his life experience.

"I don't think it's an impulse. In fact, it's you, your true self, free from the constraints of social morality."

"I feel more and more that some of the choices I made when I was young, seemingly accidental and unconscious, are actually caused by my own essential character. Even if something seems right to outsiders, if I don't like it, I will subconsciously avoid it or even fail in self-realization."

...

"Hahaha, so you want to convince Prince."

"He is indeed a difficult person to get along with. Even those of us who are old and familiar with his past will find it tricky."

"Let him go out with you and venture out again? This is a difficult idea. He is not a materialistic person."

"Besides, you can't ask him what he really thinks. It's a very obscure thing. I guess he spends more time analyzing himself than you guess."

"It's a pity that you are a man, not a beautiful girl with fair skin. If it were a girl, he would probably be shaken. Haha, I was the same when I was young. I always felt that I was very firm, but in the end I was shaken by a gentle girl."

"Okay, no more jokes. I advise you to give up. I also know something about Prince's situation. He is waiting for death just like us."

...

After the two old men finished their questioning, the man knew a lot about Prince's past, but he still couldn't get this old friend to come out.

"So in the end, you brought me this." Prince sat on the familiar second-floor balcony, where there was a small table and teapot and teacups.

"Yes." As he said that, the man put down the projector in his hand.

Pressing the button on it, the black light curtain gradually closed the surroundings, and then a ray of light shot out, and then quickly differentiated to form a three-dimensional projection.

On the stage, the girl with black hair and black skirt closed her eyes slightly and sang softly. The slightly sad ballad flowed on this quiet balcony.

"Very good song, very beautiful girl."

...

"You said, is this your only surviving daughter?"

...

"She is already a singer, why let her die, isn't this what you expected in the past, a great singer to change this decadent and corrupt world full of all kinds of deception and stupidity."

...

"It's funny. You're telling me now that you no longer believe in this ideal, because you're increasingly aware that this change doesn't bring about a new life, but another, more extreme world."

...

"No one wants to be the saints described in the scriptures, because for most people, that is extremely depressing, uncomfortable, painful and twisted."

"I used to hate those who lied, until one day I saw myself in the mirror."

"It turns out that I don't really want to be that kind of person, I just want to enjoy the admiring looks and countless preferential treatment that comes with that identity."

...

"The better her talent as a singer, the further she will go wrong, until she finally brings everyone into the abyss, because she won't learn lessons from failure and understand and accept the filth of reality."

"And this kind of idealism is naturally just, which makes many people believe it stupidly."

"Until the end, when you can't hold on, the building collapses, and everything that pours out will be more violent and more desperate than before."

...

"Don't you realize that when you tell me this, and even want to change your past mistakes, that's when you're most idealistic, because you still haven't let go and are still living in that obsession."

"But impulse is so strange."

"I accept your invitation and go meet that girl to show her the darkness of human nature. If she collapses because she can't hold on, it means that she is indeed wrong, and the despair predicted will end."

"What if she holds on, and even becomes more paranoid to realize her ideal?" The man finally spoke.

"Then let us watch the world slowly fall into despair together."

"Before I die, I can see so many people fall into the same predicament as me. This actually makes me feel relieved. Now you know what kind of person I am."

"I have realized my own darkness and will no longer change it."

(End of this chapter)