An Zhe woke up from a comfortable dream.

In the dream, there were no eyes, no ears, no organs used by humans to perceive. It seemed that he had returned to a long, long time ago, when he was deeply buried in the soft and moist soil. But that was not soil. It seemed that he was not far from Lu Xun, as close to the colonel's breath, closer than the distance to death.

After opening my eyes, I stared at the gray ceiling in a trance. I had been trying not to think about the people and events in the northern base. I could feel the memory slipping away. I had almost forgotten what the poet, the doctor, and Colin looked like. What happened in that city was gradually fading away, but Lu Xun appeared in my dreams more and more frequently.

Sometimes when I opened my eyes, I felt that this person was by my side. The dark green vine leaves hanging by the window were covered with a layer of white frost before they had time to wither, and they were frozen into a crystal clear color, like Lu Xun's eyes looking at me.

But the cold outside soon enveloped me again.

Outside the window, lead-gray clouds were pressing down on the top of the mountain, and the hard ground on the top of the mountain was covered with white frost like pine flowers. Winter is coming.

The people in the Highland Research Institute still take good care of me. Ten days ago, I received a woolen scarf and a pair of rabbit fur gloves. Every day, I left the building wrapped in these warm things and went to stay in Polly's laboratory in the white building.

The Simpson cage consumes a lot of electricity, and the wind turbine has a limited power. It can only be turned on for two hours a day. In the rest of the time, Polly will do something else. Sometimes, he would teach Anzhe some knowledge about physics and biology, such as everything is made up of atoms, which can be divided into electrons and electrons, but this is far from the end. No one can see what the material basis of this world is.

"To perceive this world, blind people can only reach out and touch things, but what they feel is obviously not the whole picture of this thing. Our understanding of the world is as superficial as that of blind people, and we are destined to only see the appearance. We have many assumptions, but we cannot verify whether they are correct." Polly said.

As he said this, the window of the laboratory was blown open by the north wind howling from the mountain peaks. The brown-skinned Indian man stood up to close the window. Polly Jones reached out and pulled up Anzhe's scarf.

The scarf wrapped around Anzhe's entire neck. He was buried in the soft and warm fabric and asked Polly, "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm old, and many parts of me are dull." Polly Jones's warm gray-blue eyes looked at him. Anzhe could see his reflection in his eyes, wrapped in a white ball. But he didn't look for long before he lowered his head and started coughing. It was so cold outside, but his lungs felt like they were burning and aching.

Polly passed the hot water on the table to Anzhe along his back.

"Do you have any more antibiotics?" Anzhe said to the Indian man named Rum.

"There are still some."

After coughing, Anzhe swallowed the medicine with shivering. The charcoal stove was lit in the room, but Anzhe still felt very cold.

"I can't find the reason for your illness." Polly wiped the fine cold sweat on Anzhe's forehead with his fingers. There was obvious pain in Anzhe's gray-blue eyes. He whispered, "There are no advanced instruments here... Sorry."

Anzhe shook his head: "It's okay."

Polly said that human beings' understanding of the world is always superficial, and sometimes Anzhe also feels that his understanding of human beings is just superficial. When 놛 returned to the abyss, he never expected to be treated like this by humans.

For example, Polly, 놛 is not a medical expert, but because Anzhe's body is gradually weakening, he began to read the medical literature in the database, and Rum would also help search.

Sometimes Anzhe would feel guilty for their kindness, because 놛 is not a human being, and these kindnesses seem to be stolen by 놛 in a human skin. 놛 began to fear that the day he died, 눕 true form would be exposed.

놛 once told Polly that it was not necessary to waste money like this. At that time, Polly used the back of his hand to test the temperature of 놛's forehead and whispered, "You are like my child."

When Polly was not around, 놛 asked Rum indirectly why Mr. Polly treated 놛 so well.

Rum said that Mr. Polly loved everyone here.

"Before I came to the institute, half of my body was rotten and moldy, and I was not conscious." Rum rolled up his trouser legs. His strong calves were covered with hideous scars and earthworm-like protrusions. This usually taciturn man said a long sentence: "Sir, you saved me half of my life day and night. I didn't believe there would be such a person in the world."

He added: "I was not a good person before. When I was a mercenary, I hurt my teammates. Now I have rescued a compatriot from outside, which can be regarded as atonement. It feels good to be a good person. It is better to be a human being than a monster. There are many people like me in the institute. No one doesn't love you."

Anzhe clearly remembered that he suddenly thought of Lu Xun for no reason at that time - an inexplicable association, wondering how Lu Xun was doing now. Then, he shook his head and drove away the profile of the guy who was completely opposite to Polly from his mind.

Rum was an amateur music lover. When he had nothing to do, he would practice playing the harmonica with a worn-out music score, and sometimes taught Anzhe. The sound was pleasant to the ears. But Rum said that humans had musical instruments that were thousands of times more beautiful than the harmonica. They could play an extremely grand and shocking symphonic music together.

When he said this, Polly came over and joked, "If Rum was born before, he would have been an outstanding musician."

Rum, who was always taciturn, smiled. He would pick up an old radio, turn the tape over, press the play button, and a fierce or slow rhythm would come out of the rusty machine. It was the sound of countless musical instruments, each with its own timbre and melody. These timbres and melodies combined together to form another kind of magnificent sound. The music flowed and echoed in this charcoal-burning laboratory. Downstairs in the white building, a man with one arm transformed into a beast's claw waved over here. Rum hung the radio on the railing outside and turned up the volume.

The light and smooth music came through the ice-covered window glass. There was an announcement before the music played on the tape: This is Beethoven's "Spring Sonata". An Zhe held his chin and listened. The spring in the abyss is also beautiful, but he probably won't be able to see it.

——It was at this time that he received a text message from the northern base.

The red light of the communication channel that had been silent for a long time flashed - there was only an unknown object on the communication list.

An Zhe brought up the communication interface, and the text message sent by the unknown object was only two lines and a dozen words.

"Winter is coming."

"Monsters are behaving strangely, please be careful."

An Zhe enlarged the words and looked back at Polly: "Sir."

"News from Dr. Ji at the Northern Base," Polly said, "You are the only one who has been secretly contacting me."

The word "Dr. Ji" made An Zhe dazed for a moment, and he asked, "...Do you want a reply?"

"Reply." Polly said gently, "Please reply for me."

*

Northern Base.

The communication channel lit up, and a reply text message came from the Highland Research Institute.

"I received it."

"Thank you for the reminder, please be careful at the base."

The doctor passed by the communication screen.

"Colonel Lu, tsk," he raised his voice, "It's hard to imagine that the Inquisitor would do such a thing, and you are still a good person."

Lu Xun looked at the words on the screen with a faint look.

"Who is that on the other side?" asked Wang.

"Someone you would never expect." Dr. Ji said, "Polly Jones."