Vertical lines, I don't know if this is a trace of modification or I want to give a shadow to the nose.
Under the shadow, one could vaguely see an extremely ugly mouth.
What is this thing
Oswald stared at the paper for a while, and then distinguished the tree and the table from behind the faces, and the style of the painting still made it impossible to look directly at.
shade? table? people
The combination of these things made a scene flash in Oswald's mind. He pondered for a while, and his face instantly darkened.
"Tap! Tuck! Tuck!" Oswald bent one of his knuckles and slammed on the table.
"Huh?" Kevin snorted, frowned and opened his eyes, looking at him sleepily and blankly.
"What are you drawing?" Oswald flicked the paper.
"Well..." Kevin fell back again, resting his pillow on his arm and closing his eyes, he answered vaguely.
The Parsons' backyard.
Oswald leaned closer and heard him say this.
It's not enough for this ancestor to just remember the time when he could be beaten by raising his hand, but he has to draw it down. Since the painting is the backyard of Parsons Manor, it is self-evident who this ghost-like thing is.
Oswald: "..."
The scene in the dream just now resurfaced in Oswald's mind. He remembered what he said when he saw this ancestor for the first time, and he almost wanted to go back and pull out his tongue.
Like a fart! If you don't hate it, there will be ghosts.
"Get up!" Oswald knocked on the table again.
Kevin frowned and waved his hand, and said vaguely, "I'll talk about it later, I'm too sleepy."
Oswald frowned: "You have the final say or I have the final say?"
Kevin didn't even bother to wave his hand this time, so he didn't speak at all.
"Hey—" Oswald stared at him for a while, and wanted to call again, but found that Kevin's breathing was long again, and he seemed to have fallen asleep again, but his frowning brows hadn't parted yet, and he was full of breath. A tiredness that didn't match his usual.
Oswald snapped his fingers, feeling something was wrong.
Chapter 17
Kevin dreamed that he was digging soil in the thick mist of Andorha's dense forest. He pushed away the wet mud, dragged an indistinct heavy object, and lay down together in the pit, and then sealed the mud himself. The underground is stuffy and humid, and the whole body is sticky, as if covered with a thick layer of blood mud.
The rusty smell of blood became more and more serious, and he finally couldn't help pushing aside the dirt and sat up, but he saw dead bodies everywhere around him, and the battle flags of the Bronze Army and the Golden Lion Kingdom fell not far away, soaked in blood. color. He glanced down to the left and saw that the man lying with him in the pit was Oswald.
"Wake up—" He felt a little sad, and pushed Oswald's shoulder hard, only to see that the lying corpse sat up.
Oswald pulled out the arrow stuck on his body indifferently, picked up a longbow on the ground, handed it to him, and said, "Can you shoot the chamomile leaves on the other side of the courtyard here? Show me look."
He propped himself up from the ground, and when he looked up, he found that the battlefield had turned into the garden of Parson's family. The adult Oswald was at the refreshment table, looking at him leisurely with his arms folded.
"Okay, try." He hesitated to reply, then squinted at the chastity tree in the distance, and steadily drew the bowstring.
With the sound of breaking the wind, the long arrow was heavily nailed to the broad-leaved chaste tree. The whole tree trembled for a while, and fell in response.
He put down his bow, only to find that he was on the top of the mountain. The whole world was extremely quiet, as if he was the only one left. The huge sunset slowly sank behind him, leaving the sky as golden red as blood.
Kevin woke up in this silent dusk.
He sat up, but found that he had been moved at some point—this was obviously not Oswald's study, but a large bedroom. A thick and luxurious bedroom with black gold and brass as the main decoration.
"You're finally awake," said an elderly voice.
When Kevin turned his head, he saw a well-dressed white-haired old man sitting on a chair beside the bed and watching him quietly. The nasolabial folds at the corners of his mouth were so deep that they were almost carved into his bones, making him look rigid and stern. There was a book spread out on the old man's knees, and with Kevin's eyesight, he could see the mark on the corner of the book with a quick glance: the second book.
On the first line of the opened page, there is a sentence: Don't take dreams as a nonsensical and absurd journey, it always has a source.
Kevin pouted, looked away, and said to the old man, "Uncle Ian, long time no see."
It's been a long time indeed. Ever since he left Parsons Manor after the spring break that year, he hadn't seen the old butler again. He didn't expect that Oswald would bring him into the palace.
ian