"Cough, cough, cough..." A coughing sound came from the side.
Su Ming'an turned his head and saw a white-haired girl sitting next to him. Her face was pale and her handkerchief was stained with a little blood from coughing up.
Noticing his gaze, the girl took out a booklet, a little reserved, but also a little eager: "Oliviers. I wrote a new poem... do you want to hear it?"
"Yeah." He heard himself respond.
It seems that this experience is the coexistence of Si Que and his friends.
The white-haired girl opened the book and read softly:
"[Daisies sway in the spring breeze,]"
"[In the green fields, alone and uninhibited,]"
“【I don’t envy the birds flying high, I just want to be like this, enjoying the time quietly.】
"[In the embrace of Mother Earth, daisies bloom, year after year...]"
Si Que listened quietly. Above the grass, only the clear voice of the girl could be heard.
Red butterflies land on swaying daisies, and the recitation of poetry is like a flowing stream.
After reading it, the girl held the book in her arms, blinking her bright eyes: "...How is it?"
Her eyes were full of anticipation, as clear and pure as a mirror.
"I can feel your spiritual energy towards nature." said Si Que.
"Is that good or bad?" the girl asked.
"There is no good or bad in literature, and every word is equal." Si Que said, "I like the artistic conception of your poem, that's enough."
The girl was stunned for a moment, then said, "But people say your work is good, and compare it with others' work, and belittle others' work. Isn't this the difference between good and bad?"
"I don't think so." Si Que said, "There is no good or bad literature, only whether it suits your taste. There is no need to give a value evaluation, only whether I like it or not. They think my work is good because they like it and follow the public opinion, but in fact, I don't think my writing is much better than others, it's just that they 'like it'. This does not mean that what is disliked should be denounced as garbage."
The white-haired girl lowered her head, as if she understood something.
"Read me some more of your poems," said Si Que.
"……good."
The girl's face showed a happy expression. She turned the page, revealing densely packed beautiful small characters, and read the poem that belonged to her:
"[Floating in the blue sky, a wingless bird, with a light body, flying freely.]"
"【Unfettered, unfettered. The pages are feathers, the words are songs.】"
“【Fly over the mountains, cross the oceans. Wander freely in the poems, write in ink, and create a gallery of poems and paintings.】”
"[O wingless bird, oh bird, what wings do you have, and to which heaven are you flying...]"
She read, and Si Que listened quietly.
She stopped and Si Que waited quietly.
Su Mingan didn't expect that Si Que's experience would be so heartwarming. Compared with the time when he was being eaten, this experience made people feel lighter. It turned out that Si Que also had such a good friend. There was no interest or impurity between them, just pure poetry sharing and chatting.
Until the setting sun gradually fell into the end of the field and the stars fell, it was as if a fairy tale had finally ended, and the moonlight flowed on them.
The girl closed the book as if awakened, and stood up suddenly: "I have to go back, otherwise my family will be worried."
Si Que was still lying on the lawn: "Those family members who beat and scolded you?"
The girl tucked her hair and said softly, "It's normal for them to be wary of me. After all... I'm the child left by the devil. But as long as I'm well-behaved and obedient, they will definitely accept me."
"Give my regards to Ms. Lin Wangan for me," said Si Que.
"Okay, I'll tell my mother. But I can't let them know that I've made friends with the famous Creator, otherwise they will definitely try to get close to you." The girl smiled and said, "Okay, I'm going home now. I'll write a poem for you next time."
“…”
The magpie was still lying on the lawn.
His fingers kept bending over and over again, as if hesitating about something.
"—wait a moment." He began.
The girl's back is reflected in the distance. She tilts her head with a warm smile on her face, and her white hair sways in the setting sun.
Si Que looked at the distant sunset for a moment, as if he wanted to keep the girl, but his lips trembled for a moment, and finally he just said: "...Be careful on the road."
The white-haired girl smiled and responded:
"Thank you, Oliver."
"I never thought that a tiny person like me would be valued by the great creator of Luowasha and become his friend. You often come to listen to my poetry... Even if they are just insignificant poems that no one would like, you always encourage me."
"Meeting you is truly the luckiest thing that has ever happened to me in this unfortunate life."
"You are such a good person. Although I know that I am definitely not the only friend of yours...but in my heart, you are the best."
The white-haired girl waved at him, turned around, and walked briskly, her long skirt fluttering like a white daisy swaying in the sunset, with an extremely happy smile.
"By the way." She suddenly stopped.
She didn't look back, and her timid voice floated over with the wind:
"Next time... could you bring a harp and play music for my poem? I heard... you are very good at the harp."
"good."
Si Que agreed.
A smile appeared on her face, and then she took a step forward, slowly, and left at the end of the horizon.
Si Que lay on the lawn. After a while, he got up and saw a white flower on the grass next to him. This was the little flower she had carefully cultivated and gave to him.
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