When the one-legged tin soldier with a sullen face and Jiang Fang walked out of the messy bookshelf maze, Nan Zhou was sitting on the floor beside the chess table.
One of his feet rested cautiously against the crack of the door, as if worried that the door would suddenly close.
The light from outside the door was like vines, climbing along his ankles, Ming Huanghuang cast on him, making him look like the light itself.
It belongs to Jiang Fang's story, and the formal rules are placed on his knees.
Nan Zhou sat very close to the mummified corpse.
The mummy had long since sat frozen on the stool.
No one knows how long it has been here.
Its clothes are rotten, its skin is peeling off, and it can barely maintain a person's shelf.
Because its back was facing the chessboard for a long time, it was hunched like a pot on its back.
Even so, when the light came in, it still ignored the shavings and pieces of flesh that fell from its body, struggling to lift its face from the chessboard, eager, greedy, and full of looking towards the light outside.
This is the limit that it can reach with all its strength.
When Jiang Fang came out, Nan Zhou was trying to talk to it: "How long have you been here?"
Mummy: "… "
Nan Zhou: "It's been a long time. You should also be a gamer."
Mummy: "… "
Nan Zhou: "Can you understand me?"
Mummy: "… "
Nan Zhou: "Hello?"
Nan Zhou's perseverance made his face, which seemed so cold and unremarkable, looked extremely lively and lovely.
The one-legged tin soldier put Jiang Fang down, jumped step by step, and went to the depths of the bookshelf to find Li Yinhang again.
When the game was over, Jiang Fang, who slowly absorbed his memories from the book, walked forward with a faint smile: "What are you talking about? Can you take me with you?"
Nan Zhou stopped the one-sided chat with the mummified corpse and looked at Jiang Fang: "You were in danger just now."
"It's careless."
Jiang Fang completely disbanded the scorpion-tail braid that had been loosened during the fight, and while re-doing it, he lightly wrote: "It was originally planned to be eaten until the age of nineteen. At most twenty-two."
The variable fell on the tin soldiers who patrolled every half an hour.
It would be safest if the chess game could be turned over in a single blow within half an hour when the tin soldiers could not be dispatched.
Nan Zhou still disapproved of his risky move: "You can wait."
Jiang Fang shrugged indifferently: "They have already decided the outcome of three sets, and I just waited for this opportunity. If I miss this time, who knows how long it will take to wait for an ideal 'general' situation?"
After speaking, he tilted his head slightly, and showed Nan Zhou a brilliant smile: "Besides, I trust you, don't I?"
For some reason, Nan Zhou seemed reluctant to look directly at him.
He replied vaguely, "No."
Then, he handed Jiang Fang's book back to him on his knees.
Jiang Fang took it over: "Did you take a peek?"
Nan Zhou shook his head: "No."
Jiang Fang: "..." Tsk.
He couldn't tell if he was happy or depressed.
This is an extra gamble that Jiang Fang set for himself outside of this game.
He bet that Nanzhou's curiosity would let him peep his secrets.
Since reuniting with Nan Zhou on the bus, Jiang Fang has been thinking about whether to tell him about the past or not to mention the past and start from scratch.
There are some things that are hard to tell, he wants Nan Zhou to see, and he is worried that he will see.
Therefore, he chose to use the game to take a risk and entrust his thoughts and memories to Nan Zhou.
He bet Nanzhou would see it.
However, he lost to him again.
... I don't know why, every time Jiang Fang wanted to make a bet with Nan Zhou, he would definitely lose to him.
Jiang Fang laughed secretly, but when he took the book, his fingertips paused subtly.
Probably because nine-tenths of his stories were eaten by the book, making it ninety percent full, and forcing it to spit it out, it was not in a good mood.
Therefore, Jiang Fang's memory recovered a little slowly.
When the memories are re-injected into his mind, there will be a slight sense of strangeness, so Jiang Fang took some time to adapt and clarify.
When the story is still written, it is told from a third-person perspective.
In countless flashbacks of memory fragments, Jiang Fang suddenly found that there was a little strange and unfamiliar content in his memory after the age of nine.
- He seems to have owned a healing tree house with a building area of about 20 square meters on a huge tree.
"The house was built by Jiang Fang and his father and mother."
"In the house, there are endless desserts and fruits, endless toys, endless books, a group photo of Jiang Fang's family, a warm and safe fireplace, and a picture of the most beautiful picture in the world. A soft bed, a softest blanket."
"After this, every time he encountered painful things, he would hide here."
"When he is sad, the sky will rain for him."
"The rain falls on the wooden roof, the fire burns on the safety charcoal, making a pleasant white noise."
"He slept in the sound of rain and fire."
"When I woke up, all the pain was gone."
Jiang Fang frowned slightly.
The content of this memory contradicted his logic.
His original home was in a steel forest.
There is indeed a forest park a few kilometers away from home.
As a child, his father took his mother and he went there for a picnic.
But since he was nine years old, he has no such memory.
He travels between the overworld and the underworld in Kiev.
He's going to send his mother to an alcohol and drug rehab center. Where's the time to buy a bed and blanket for himself
Even if there is such an ideal harbor, he has no time to live.
As for the photo with the parents, it is even more nonsense.
After a drunkenness, the mother burned all the family photos with her father.
Ten-year-old Jiang Fang wanted to hide the last photo in his wallet, but was also snatched by his mother who was on the verge of madness.
He could only watch the photo and the wallet his father bought for him, all engulfed by fire.
All in all, only children need this kind of tree house where they can fall asleep after being hit, and the wounds in their hearts can heal themselves.
…
However, the source of this strange memory is not difficult to find.
Just thinking about it for a moment, Jiang Fang's silver eyes lowered slightly, and a warm feeling came to his heart.
There was a man who wanted to fabricate a warm memory for him after he got his memory book.
The false memory of him sleeping on the softest bed in the world under the softest blanket in the world was a soft leaden color.
… The color is very similar to the pencils that Nanzhou draws sketches these days.
Jiang Fang's heart was scorched by this warmth.
The slight tingling behind the warmth made him almost panic.
In order to hide the feeling of kissing his heart almost out of control, Jiang Fang deliberately put on a gesture of indifference and asked with a smile, "You said you didn't peek?"
Nan Zhou sighed softly.
Still didn't hide it.
It seems that this book will not absorb and assimilate memories that did not belong to the original owner.
So he honestly said, "I didn't peek."
"I used the catalog to find your nine-year-old location and wrote it with a pen in the blank space. I blocked your other stories and didn't even read them."
Jiang Fang did not expect that the more he talked to Nan Zhou, the more he couldn't help but like it.
When it comes to love, he just can't admit that he likes someone.
So he even started to pick on the thorns of that beautiful story uncontrollably: "How could someone set a fire in a treehouse?"
Nan Zhou: "As I said, it is a safe fireplace and charcoal." He also emphasized twice.
Jiang Fang: "Desserts and fruits, you want to eat them."
Nan Zhou: "Well. That's very happy."
Jiang Fang: "When a person is sad, the sky won't rain for him. Besides, when it rains, the tree house will get wet."
Nan Zhou: "I know. But the sound of rain will make people feel calm. I want to make it rain in your story, and it will rain."
Jiang Fang laughed: "That's a fairy tale, not reality."
Nan Zhou: "I know."
Nan Zhou: "But I want to give you a fairy tale."
Jiang Fang was dumbfounded.
He half-smiled and half-seriously rubbed his head: "How do you grow?"
Why would such a gentle flower bloom in such a lonely, desperate, dirty, and endless quagmire
Nan Zhou showed his usual seriousness and replied, "It's getting longer every day."
Nan Zhou thought about it for a while, combined his own experience, and added: "Fairy tales, some are false, and some may be true. If you don't believe it, it will never be true."
Jiang Fang stared at the tear mole under Nan Zhou's eyes.
The fairy tales that he had believed in the past and refused to believe in the future were now standing before his eyes.
His cheeks were warm and his eyes were shining.
Jiang Fang finally smiled sincerely again.
"Okay, I believe it."
The memory of the wooden house was automatically corrected and gradually erased from Jiang Fang's memory.
But this warmth resided in his heart.
With a physical appearance, fluffy, rubbing against him warmly.
Like a house cat.
Suddenly, in the labyrinth of bookshelves, the one-legged tin soldier slanted his head out from above the bookshelf.
It became annoyed and said, "Please let your friends come out and stop hiding! I explained to her that the game is over, but she doesn't listen to me!"
Only then did Nan Zhou realize that Li Yinhang had not come out.
At times like this, she was quite shy.
It wasn't a safety guarantee from her teammates, she thought it was all fake.
Even though the chasing sound of the big leather boots had disappeared, she still didn't believe a word of the Tin Soldier's words, and she hid herself through the bookshelves like a rabbit.
The one-legged tin soldier leaned on one leg, unable to catch up with her.
After a long rest, Nan Zhou's spirit also eased a lot.
He stood up and instructed Jiang Fang to keep an eye on the door, and then stepped forward to head towards the inside of the bookshelf labyrinth.
While rubbing shoulders with Jiang Fang, he accidentally touched his shoulder.
Jiang Fang was a little dazed and couldn't hold the book, and the book fell to the ground with a snap.
Jiang Fang signaled that he would pick it up and let Nan Zhou go first.
So Nan Zhou walked quickly to the depths of the bookshelf.
The spine of the book in Jiang Fang's hand landed first.
The front of the book is facing upwards, and a page is opened.
There are still some texts that have not completely disappeared.
When Jiang Fang was about to bend over to pick it up, he couldn't help but frown when he saw the faint words on it.
["Boss, we can listen to you in everything, but it's impossible to let him out."]
["He's a boss, boss, you can't treat him as a human just because he has a human face?"]
[“He is in your backpack now, of course you have the final say. Why do you have to let him out? This is the safest way.”]
["Boss, what certainty do you have that you can completely guarantee that he will not hurt us?]
["The conscience of heaven and earth, boss, I promise you, I have never played "Eternal Day" at all, and I have not killed him, but he is recognized as the dungeon boss with the highest fatality rate. This is something everyone knows. Boss, Don't make it hard for us, do you want us to believe that he will be kind to our players?"]
[Jiang Fang heard the collective protest of the team members, and was silent and thinking. 】
[He said: "Then let him out after a while."]
Jiang Fang lowered his silver eyelashes, picked up the book, pinched the seam, and firmly controlled it in his hand.
It was as if it was a past that he couldn't bear to look back on. :,