How many times had he rushed out of the door amid his father's sighs and groans? How many times had he laughed at his father's manuscript paper, which was just a pile of toilet paper that the publishing house didn't want, and how many times had he angrily accused his father of offending Sique Olivers and having no future in life.
He never imagined that one day his survival would be determined by such absurd standards.
And that poor, sick old man, that unlucky guy avoided by his neighbors, will become what people call the "savior."
"You, you can't abandon me! My father is a great hero! I will become a great noble in the future! My father's manuscript paper created the Rin clan! I am the son of the savior! You can't abandon me!!!"
The man shouted desperately and waved the manuscript paper in his hand.
Lu Zhuqing slowly closed his eyes.
"Dad! I was wrong! I was wrong! I shouldn't have called you useless. Come back to life and take me away! Dad!!!"
The crying gradually died down.
…
The manuscript paper fluttered like snowflakes.
…
“Snap, snap.”
Ying came to the foot of a hillside and looked up at the hillside.
He pretended to be nonchalant and tidied his long purple hair, checked again that he had put on his golden contact lenses, put on the blood-red cloak with golden wheat ears, and walked up.
Inspired by the "master of colored contact lenses" Hui Bai, Ying moved his clever little brain and came up with an idea - since changing colored contact lenses can change one's identity, then if he disguises his wig and face together, can't he directly pretend to be someone else?
So he got a wig, colored contact lenses and clothes, put on a mask that covered half of his face, put on makeup for a while, and cosplayed as Si Que.
This was not due to his addiction to the second dimension, but he was disguising himself as Si Que to contact some key figures, which should have enabled him to obtain some information that his original form could not.
There was not enough time, and Ying only found a key person, who was on the hillside.
He straightened his collar, showed his professionalism in cosplaying as Boss Rabbit, and walked up the hillside leisurely.
On the hillside, a slender figure stood quietly. The young man's white coat was stained with dust, and he was blowing a leaf flute at his lips. The Snow of the End was right in front of him, but he had no intention of running away.
It is obviously a young face, but the eyebrows and eyes are solemn, as if they are covered with frost.
The young man heard the footsteps of Ying, but continued to play the flute until he finished the whole song. He put down the leaf flute and said calmly:
"You taught me how to play this leaf flute. When I found you as a child, I felt like I was walking on clouds and in a dream. I have been drifting for decades... and I haven't woken up yet."
The shadow came closer, and a gust of wind blew, causing a few strands of long purple hair to brush past the corners of Ran Bo's eyes.
"Perhaps the end has come, light and darkness have merged, and I remembered a lot of things." Ran Bo still did not look back:
"I remember how you arrogantly rewrote everything, how you arrogantly robbed me of all my honors, and how you treated me like a worn-out shoe. I remembered the countless days and nights of desolation, the majority of my life that was despised by others, and the countless sheets of calculation paper that were reduced to waste paper..."
Ying secretly smacked his lips, feeling fortunate that Su Mingan wasn't such a scumbag, but on the surface he showed his acting skills to the fullest, trying to get more information: "So what?"
"So!" Ran Bo emphasized loudly, seeming angry at the arrogance of this sentence.
He hated the arrogance of those in power, but still secretly looked forward to a new world "without pain and without conflict."
If everything is constructed with words, will there be no pain in this world? If everything can be rewritten with words, what miracles can't happen? Incurable cancer can be cured with just a few strokes. A disabled person can stand up again after losing his legs with just a few strokes.
But the reality is beyond people's imagination. The price of curing cancer is that the common cold becomes a terminal illness. The disabled person gains two legs, but the normal person develops leg hyperplasia... The physical laws of the world are constant after all. The reward and the price are actually twins.
Commoners gain the power of writing, overthrow the nobles, and become new nobles. The brave obtain the sword to overthrow the dynasty, kill the dragon, and become a new dragon. The sharpest pen can rewrite everything, regardless of the writer, he is also the person in the book - but it cannot rewrite desire.
The huge power system has never changed, it has only changed from "army", "salary" and "position" to "pen strokes". How dare we ask that the world will become a paradise where no one does evil? It is just the beginning of a new cycle, and the people sitting in the lower, middle and upper levels have changed. They are still stamped with the same red seal, writing the same documents and typing on the same keyboard. There is no personalized, romantic and free art here, only the same kind of beasts covered with beautiful flowers.
The soil beneath the roots remains unchanged, the dark land can only produce barren flowers, and the frozen lake cannot produce justice.
"...I was indeed wrong." Ying coughed and said calmly, "There is no utopia or Garden of Eden in the world. All these words are used to deceive people and stimulate their desires."
"What I care about is..." Ying paused and asked his own question: "Ran Bo, why are you here?"
According to his information, Ran Bo, as the scientist who created the Lin tribe, should have stayed with Huibai and Xiaobai. Why did he run to the hillside alone?
The snow of the end is falling, is this person going to die?!
Ran Bo turned around, opened his arms, and looked like he was half crying and half laughing:
"——This is my 'revenge' on you."
"Revenge?" Ying opened his eyes wide.
"You know what?" Ran Bo showed a grin that was almost like gritting his teeth, with a look of satisfaction from revenge on his face: "I planted a wrong 'red line' for the Lord of the Lin Clan that I created with my own hands."
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