Chapter 62: The Little Bird Goes Home I will go to the station again tomorrow, or at night...
Life taught a veteran tenacity, tolerance and optimism, but it did not teach him how to face warmth.
"It's raining really hard, isn't it?"
The Wood Bird was very nervous. He was afraid of revealing some indecent emotions, so he bit his lips and held his disordered breath in his throat.
I can hardly breathe...
"Your breathing sounds strange." Mr. D asked with concern.
"Oh, that's because it's raining and the atmospheric pressure is lower. It's more difficult to breathe than usual." The Wooden Bird was extremely grateful for his past experiences, which allowed him to tell lies without hesitation.
Mr. D said, "Your hands are very cold."
The woodpile bird stumbled over his lie: "I just had some cold beer when I got here."
He tried his best to make the ending of the sound rise, as if drinking beer could prove that a person's life was not so difficult.
Mr. D took off his gloves, placed them in his cold hands, and took the medal:
"Let's exchange."
Lambskin gloves are a rare and valuable imported commodity in this troubled times, and their value far exceeds the price of the medal of the wooden stake bird.
Exchanging goods for goods, rather than giving money directly, quietly protects the dignity of others.
The wooden bird grasped the glove tightly, and the warmth of the leather was transmitted to it. Those cocoons worn by war and guns seemed to be warmed and become slightly softer.
But his fingers were swollen and he couldn't put them on.
Mr. D: "Tomorrow is May. Spring is over and it's time to warm up."
"I see." said the wooden bird.
In May, the weather should be warmer. People on the street wore thin shirts, but he was the only one wrapped in an inappropriate leather jacket, his blood and limbs numb from the cold.
Mr. D and the people on the street were gradually heading towards summer, but he seemed to be stuck in winter forever.
He can't go far.
The sky was dark and pedestrians looked in surprise at a middle-aged disabled man who was wiping his tears with his head down. Everyone in the world could see it except the man on the platform.
The wooden stake bird was thankful for this.
This is the best, it’s best not to be seen.
Between him and Mr. D, distance creates beauty. When the distance becomes zero and they really see each other's face, they may only be able to force a smile and swallow their original words tacitly.
He was so dilapidated that if Mr. D could see him, it would only leave him with unpleasant memories.
The woodpeckers knew very well that they were not suitable and there was no possibility. So, he pretended to be nonchalant and persuaded Mr. D:
"Don't wait, the person you are waiting for is gone."
Mr. D asked gently, "What does he look like?"
The wooden stake bird described it with difficulty: "She is a young and beautiful omega who can...be worthy of the flower in your arms."
Mr. D asked, "Do you like flowers?"
Woodpile birds love it. What bird doesn’t like flowers and plants? The same goes for this old bird with rotten feathers and broken legs.
"No, sir, I never liked flowers, and I can't even recognize what flowers you have."
Every time the wooden bird emphasizes a word, its heart becomes more rotten.
"You should leave quickly. If you stand here in your wool coat, you will soon be targeted by gangs and robbed."
Mr. D turned around and fumbled to place the flower pot on the seat on the platform. The bench was covered with colorful and obscene illegal advertisements. When the flowerpot was placed on it, the buds trembled as if in protest.
The woodpile bird opened its eyes wide: "What are you doing?"
"Put it here. Maybe the person will come back to get it when he's done with his work."
The Stake Bird croaked, "He won't come."
Mr. D raised his eyes and seemed to look at him, "Do you want it?"
"I don't want it."
To prove its determination, the wooden bird limped away, the sound of its wooden legs hitting the ground fading away, faint but with a pattern: two taps, a pause, two more taps, and a pause...
Mr. D closed his eyes and imagined: boom, boom, stop, boom, boom, stop again.
He suddenly realized that it was the old soldier who looked back every two steps and looked at him reluctantly.
The old soldier wanted the flowers, but he didn't dare to walk back.
Mr. D, leaning on his cane, stepped out of the platform step by step and walked away. Behind him, there was the noise of traffic and the slow pace of pedestrians, but the mermaid's ears could clearly distinguish the sound of a wooden stake hitting the ground. It was rapid and suppressed, and it almost ran towards the station and snatched the pot of flowers from under the noses of a group of curious and eager passers-by.
It was like a stray old dog, waiting until the feeder left before cautiously coming back to pick up the bone.
Mr. D was amused by his own imagination.
He originally thought that this meeting would end with the other party avoiding him. But he didn't expect that the old dog holding the bone in its mouth would discover his trail, run up to him and grab his arm.
The wooden bird was panting heavily, with an unknown emotion stirring in his chest. He held the flowers in his left hand and the lover he could not have in his right hand. He said with satisfaction and joy:
"You are such a good man. Since you can't wait for anyone, would you like to go back with me for a cup of tea, just to take care of my business?"
Mr. D paused. This reaction was unexpected, yet reasonable. People with mental disorders are often like this, with their moods fluctuating and they are pitifully neurotic.
He thought for a moment and asked, "Besides selling medals, what other business do you have?"
The wooden bird proudly replied: "There are many. I can do demolition and blasting, I have also killed octopuses, picked up scraps, repaired home appliances, sold balloons, sold mineral water, I can do everything. My legs are broken, but I still have my hands and can fly. I earn my living through labor and have not tarnished this period of history."
Mr. D was curious about how there could be such a person, desperate and hopeful at the same time, like a flower that grew out of the dust with all its courage, contradictory and tragic.
"I know everything," Woodpile Bird emphasized, using his unskilled solicitation skills and lowering his voice, "You must be depressed now because you didn't get anyone. I can 'relieve' you. My price is cheaper than others, and the site is clean."
Mr. D was silent for a moment and said nothing.
The wooden bird lowered his voice and added with a chuckle, "By the way, I happen to be missing a leg, so I'll give you a 70% discount."
What kind of crazy person could describe the fact that he had lost a leg as "just right"?
Out of pity, Mr. D took out his wallet.
The wooden bird happily took the money, redeemed the chessboard with five dollars, and bought the jasmine flowers with fifteen dollars. As he walked along the road, he even hummed a song softly.
He hadn't been this happy in a long, long time.
Woodpile Bird knew that a good man like Mr. D would definitely not have the heart to reject him. This out-and-out villain took advantage of the kindness of a blind man and gave him something selfishly.
Mr. D gave him gloves and he gave him a medal.
Mr. D gave him a pot of flowers, and he had to give something in return.
No matter whether the other party wanted it or not, he insisted on giving it. He grew up in the Isoparaiso era, and in his values, good people must never be allowed to leave empty-handed and disappointed.
In addition, the woodpecker also has some secret aspirations. He had never experienced what it was like to do something intimate with someone he was attracted to.
The wooden bird held Mr. D's hand, his heart and eyes full of anticipation. However, when he walked into the basement, the musty smell that hit him in the face was a big blow to him.
He smelled the scent of death and thought of his own withered and broken body, and he couldn't help but worry.
...He was sick and not young anymore. If his heart stopped beating on the way and he fell on Mr. D, the other party would definitely feel guilty.
So, the wooden bird chose a safer method.
The prosthetic limb clattered to the ground on the dirty floor. Muzhuniao nervously and hurriedly looked for alcohol to wipe his hands. He drank two sips of cold water and swallowed the blood taste in his mouth before he unbuckled Mr. D's belt with trembling fingers.
During the journey, he kept swallowing nervously, fearing that the other party would discover that his skills were not good enough.
The woodpile bird felt a hand gently stroking his hair, and Mr. D whispered to him, "Is this your first time?"
The Stake Bird said hoarsely and vaguely: "Yes...I'm sorry."
Mr. D was silent for a moment, then sighed, "Me too."
Muzhuniao thought that what the other party meant was that it was the first time for a respectable person like Mr. D to do business in such a ridiculous place.
Little did he know that this was also Mr. D's first time getting close to someone.
"I will go to the station again tomorrow, still at six o'clock in the evening." Before leaving, Mr. D gave him a second chance.
The wooden bird looked at the flowerpot on the table, then looked at the man standing in the backlight, and its almost dead heart began beating again.
He muttered in his heart, you are always so gentle and tolerate me time and time again.
However, late at night, Muzhuniao's residence was kicked open, and more than a dozen fully armed secret police surrounded the frail and weak old soldier and dragged him from the cold bed to the ground.
An informer disclosed his address.
The captured bird was so calm at first that the police thought they had caught the wrong person.
The police kept asking him to confess his gang and tortured him severely. For 17 hours, he refused to say anything and only asked from time to time what time it was.
"What time is it?"
"The leader of the revolutionary army has fallen to this level. Tsk tsk, this is called kicking a fallen dog."
"What time is it?"
"He looks like he's crazy? Take him downstairs and splash him with water twice to sober him up."
An investigator brought the pot of wild roses, plucked out the leaves and flowers in front of him, and poured out all the soil, trying to find some possible evidence inside.
The wooden bird was pinned to the ground, and it stretched out its hands with all its might to grab the thorny stem and stuffed it into its arms.
The secret police tortured him until he suffered a concussion. When he was thrown into prison, he vaguely couldn't remember many things.
But he still remembered that he had to keep the appointment at six o'clock in the evening. As long as he went, he would be able to break free from the nightmare and go to the land of happiness.
He wanted to treat Mr. D to some snacks, to kiss Mr. D on the cheek, and to... confess his love to him seriously.
So, the dying old soldier, with his dry hands and feet, snatched the jailer's key and ran out desperately. On the way, he was shot countless times by an automatic rifle in the corridor, but he seemed to be unaware of it and did not stop at all while running.
The big screen in the monitoring room showed a sad yet happy smile on his face. The secret police were stunned and extremely angry and sounded the alarm for the entire city.
[5:17], there is still half an hour, there is still time.
Miraculously, he ran to the tarmac, stole a fighter plane, and flew it into the sky.
[5:32], there is hope. As long as he can bypass the controlled area and enter the residential area, it will not be a problem. He has carried out such actions many times when he was young, and it will definitely succeed!
He had to fly over three restricted areas to reach the core residential area. One of his wings was damaged, and he flew around them while falling. Unfortunately, before the last aerial checkpoint, he was blocked by a dense wall formed by the defense forces that had been prepared long ago.
[5:48], I looked up at the sky. It was wrapped in a dense net, losing its original purity and integrity and becoming fragmented.
At this moment, Mr. D was waiting for him at the station, holding the medal tightly in his hand.
[5:52], he suddenly remembered the jasmine flowers in the refrigerator. He was afraid that the flower that no one cared about would be lonely. If he had known earlier, he should have left a light on for it.
At 6 o'clock, the screen began to sound a series of alarms: "Exceeding the maximum turning angle! You have stalled, you have stalled! PULL UP!"
"Beep--" The sound of the aircraft's black box suddenly stopped and remained forever at this second.
Brilliant fireworks exploded in the sunset glow in the sky above the slums, and the aircraft hit the air barrier, with fragments falling like meteors.
That's not like a moth to a flame.
Instead, the birds, eager to return to the forest, willingly crashed into the power grid.
Below the dusty station, gloomy and lifeless eyes watched the explosion unconsciously.
Some of the ashes fell on his eyelids.
At that time, Yu Chen did not realize what was happening. That night, he waited at the station until late at night, but the wooden bird did not show up, so he simply thought that this was just another escape by the other party.
Throughout that week, the evening news was broadcast on giant screens in every building in the Empire, and the crash was replayed over and over again on the screens.
That day, Yu Chen came to collect the remaining relics of the wooden bird. When he walked out of the alley, he stopped there and looked at the screen for a while.
The screen was broadcasting the happy news of the death of the most wanted criminal, and both the host and Cade were delighted.
"I am pleased to inform you that the Empire has finally eliminated a great scourge."
Yu Chen became a little annoyed and turned around to leave, but the screen suddenly jumped and played a video of the wanted criminal's death.
It was a surveillance video, dark, blurry, and with an uncomfortable madness. A bare stem was embedded in the collar of the person, and the body was covered in blood, making it almost impossible to make out a human figure.
The wanted criminal opened his arms like a struggling bird and flew towards the light of the exit.
Yu Chen thought of the dust that fell into his eyes. He suddenly woke up from his numbness and realized that the bird would never fly back.
An old soldier, struggling to survive, finally died in front of his homeland with longing and hope in his heart.
The mermaid's eyelashes brushed across her eye sockets, and a gray-blue pearl fell at her feet, rolling into the dirty sewer of the slums, making a slight sound.
That night, Yu Chen found the scepter and pressed the nuclear button hidden under the palace, destroying the entire capital planet.
The entire interstellar alliance was stunned and shocked. The news column put the two explosions together with the title "Two long-planned attacks."
However, no one knew that this was just the same love suicide without any prior agreement.
·
At breakfast time, Bai Ling bit half a piece of bread and dozed off with his head drooping.
What I had last night was not a dream at all, it was a revolving lantern of life! The little horse's hoof was so dizzy that his head hurt. The most confusing thing was that the dream automatically replaced Mr. D's face with a gloomy one, which made him sigh with true feelings. When he woke up and touched his pillow, he found it was wet.
I'm so sad, I need to find something to comfort myself.
Bai Ling had a blank expression on his face. He gulped down the milk, quickly stuffed his bread, and stood up to look for the royal pressure relief valve. After looking around, he was a little surprised to find that the person was not in the study.
Didn’t you stay up late to work overtime today?
As his thoughts drifted, he walked to the door of the bathhouse. As soon as he opened the door, the little robot slid over on its tracks and made a "hush" gesture towards him.
"The master has stopped taking the medicine and has just entered a deep sleep."
Bai Ling tried his best to lower his voice, "Why did he stop taking the medicine for no reason?"
The little robot covered the speaker and whispered to him: "I don't know. My calculation results for the master are never very accurate. Use the CPU to calculate it yourself."
Bai Ling frowned and thought hard: "...Oh no, did I yell someone else's name in my sleep last night and he got mad?"
"It's possible." The little robot said seriously, "But the master is mumbling something else, and he won't let me say it."
Bai Ling made a move: "Then write it down."
The AI readily used the bug, and the little pliers gestured on the plush carpet:
"The master said, 'I was afraid he was crying and I didn't know it.'"
Bai Ling was stunned for a moment and said nothing. After all, it’s all for myself.
Originally, Uriel asked him to debug the mental firewall this morning, and he planned to come over to take a look and then leave immediately. Now it seems that he still can't help it...
I couldn't help but want to rub the old guy's scales.
Then, Bai Ling bent down without hesitation, quietly took off his shoes, and tiptoed like a cat watching a crocodile in a zoo, walking around the wall of the pool, and then sticking his head to look inside.
What a big blue tail, it fell asleep.
The mermaid rests her forehead on her forearm, her upper body leans against the pool wall, the line of her tail extends to the deep water, her breathing rises and falls, and faint ripples appear on the water surface, reminding people of the blue whale floating in the shallow sea, a tranquil behemoth.
In Bai Ling's impression, the mermaid always went to bed later than him and got up earlier than him. She wished she could use the study as a bedroom and the boss chair as a bed.
This is the first time I've seen the other person sleeping so defenselessly.
If you take two steps closer, you can see the deep eye sockets beneath the high brows. Although he had fallen asleep, his eyelashes were still trembling, as if he was fighting some terrible enemy in his dream.
Bai Ling said to himself: "He shouldn't bite me..."
AI:? Is the mechanical bird about to make a dangerous contact? No! No, you’ll be knocked unconscious by the vigilant big tail!
Don't ask why it is so clear, the answer is that you have picked up spare parts yourself.
The AI was about to use the loudspeaker to stop the keeper from climbing over the "railing", but saw the mechanical bird neatly roll up its trouser legs, revealing its slender calves, and wade through the water step by step, down to the last step of the bathhouse stairs.
One step further is the dark blue deep water area.
The bird was not afraid at all. It opened its arms and, like a foraging seabird, grabbed the old fish's broad shoulders and scooped it up like a cursor.
Then, Bai Ling made a move that was judged as [Level 1 Danger] in the eyes of the AI——
His whitened fingers pushed back the hair, and the warmth of his palms pressed against the scales on the mermaid's neck, whispering in her ear:
"…Whatever nightmare you have, it will have a happy ending."
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