Blood Ear (Part Two)
Love is simple.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
I am in love with you, I am obsessed with you.
I am infatuated with you, I am bound to you.
My stagnant heart is constantly, in this state—
Resurrection, hanging, exposure to the sun.
Sweetheart, I can only die in your arms.
I love you. "
I love you
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Floral brocade, extravagant pace, silent obedience on earth, and basking in the glow of heaven.
If I love you, how can I hold you tight?
After writing about the most sentimental and hypocritical love, the writer will not take his own life, but the readers, still wanting more, will fall into the river with tears in their eyes.
They landed their bodies on the wide, frozen river.
Bright red blood gushed forth, limbs contorted, and nerves trembled slightly, overflowing with the world's largest, most beautiful, and most expansive tango dance moves.
What I have seen —
Ordinary people were terrified
The artist went crazy over it
The writer happened to pass by at that moment, but only glanced at it briefly.
Because, just five steps away in the gleaming exhibition hall, he will be signing the names of the remaining thousands of devoted book fans.
Who gets into character, who gets out of character, and who never gets into character?
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"Romeo, Romeo! Why must you be Romeo?"
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She spotted it early in the morning.
A black listening device was prominently displayed on the table.
So she smiled faintly and walked up to him as usual.
He looked up at her; her expression remained sorrowful yet innocent.
"Sit here, okay?"
She said yes, and gracefully sat down in front of him.
In the spacious room, the soft sound of dance music drifted through the air. He poured her a glass of warm water, then silently leaned back in his chair and smoked.
After a while, he asked from through the smoke, "Can you dance the tango?"
"I've learned a little bit, but I'm not very good at jumping."
He took a few more breaths before saying softly, "That's enough."
So, on a gloomy, rainy midnight, a man and a woman danced hand in hand, listening to distorted dance music from a tape recorder.
The passionate tango steps are like being scorched by an open flame.
In the end, she rested her head against his chest, turning back with each step, moving slowly and deliberately.
The dance tune suddenly shifted downwards
He suddenly tightened his grip on her hand, and as he looked her over, she leaned back in his arms, twirling and sliding gracefully.
As she drew nearer again, she whispered a sweet laugh in his ear.
A childlike, smooth, jade-like laugh, full of contentment.
He laughed along with her.
After the dance, they drank together by the window, their hearts still heavy with emotion.
When one is immersed in the passion of love, one is not afraid of the cold, and thus enjoys being immersed in the cold wind. She gazes intently into the darkness, while his gaze remains on her hair.
The next moment, a gleaming knife with a warm, porcelain-like base appeared in her hand.
It was the one he used to "break the new orange".
Li Xiangyan's voice was very flat as he asked, "What are you doing?"
Xici glanced back at the listening device on the table.
"You've always known, haven't you?"
"Put down the knife, let's talk."
"Commander Li, we are on opposing sides, and there's never anything to talk about."
"Whether it's you or me, one of us has to die for it all to end."
"Then let's just die together."
Xici chuckled after hearing this: "Are you willing to let her die before tomorrow? Don't you want to see what will happen to her?"
“She won’t come. I’ve already sent a telegram. You’re wasting your time.” He gave her a deep look, then turned and went inside.
"All that effort for nothing? How could it be?" she said with a soft sigh.
You have no idea how much effort I've put into you.
Li Xiangyan turned around and looked at her, asking, "What kind of skill?"
She met his gaze expressionlessly, her eyes beginning to shift with a mixture of pity and indifference, an indisputable ambiguity.
Lee Sang-yeon frowned and walked up to her.
His gaze towards her held a knowing look, and after a moment he chuckled, "I misspoke earlier; you've spent too much time on it."
"You can't touch her, I can assure you."
"It'll be a constant struggle; you'll find out tomorrow."
Lee Sang-yeon lit a cigarette and bit it against his lip. "Would you go to this lengths to kill me?"
"Absolutely foolproof," Xici said with a charming smile.
His eyes narrowed, and he stopped beside her, kissing her forehead. "Smart."
But his hands went around to her back and tied her up.
"However, I can't let you succeed yet."
He smiled at her after he finished speaking, walked out of the room, went downstairs, and saw Feng Yi standing at the door.
"Take Miss Qiu to the interrogation room."
Finally, turning his head, he added, "No mistakes are allowed."
He was reluctant to part with it.
Probably.
Otherwise, why would he keep kissing his Juliet in his heart?
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Xici slightly moved the rope binding her, and the hemp rope rubbed against her skin, quickly turning it bright red.
She leaned back quietly in her chair, resigned to her fate, her eyes gently closed, and remained motionless.
Feng Yi entered and saw her quiet demeanor. "Miss Qiu, thank you for your trouble."
Just like that day, she was tied up and moved from one place to another like an object.
Still sitting in the same spot in the car
Wandering through the streets and alleys, the night was silent and still.
In the distance, only the lyrics of the opera remained, their tone delicate, seemingly filled with resentment and melancholy.
The lyrics go: "A half-line of words is the epitaph of a ill-fated man, a handful of earth is the grave of a heartbroken man, and no one will ever cross this desolate wilderness again."
Who will sing at this moment?
The melody was like the caress of clouds, surpassing the rigidity of reality and falling short of the softness of illusion.
She listened and listened, her eyes slowly opening, silently focusing on what lay ahead.
The misty air made the sunlight seem even more penetrating.
"Alas, on this vast and desolate horizon, who mourns the pear blossoms in the pavilion?"
"Pity that lonely, sorrowful soul, accompanied only by the mournful cries of the cuckoo under the cold moon."
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