The hall was empty and quiet, and the howling of the snowstorm outside the window was endless.

"Can you dance?" The girl in the hall suddenly asked, turning her head for no reason.

"No, no." The little boy who was asked by the girl seemed a little timid, as if he had been asked similar questions countless times, but his answer was always the same.

"You can't be normal." The girl standing in the middle of the hall showed an expression that should be like this, taken for granted: "You are Asian. I think Asian girls here have short legs. Of course people with short legs will not Dance."

"You are Asian too."

The boy wanted to argue, but because his voice was too weak, the girl ignored him and said, "Then do you want to learn to dance?"

The boy was stunned for a moment and nodded subconsciously: "I think so."

"I can teach you." The girl said, "I am from the Soviet Union, and Soviet girls can all dance ballet. This is genetic inheritance. We start to rise, fall, rise, and fall from the womb."

"Why teach me? Why not someone else?" the boy asked.

"Because I like stupid people." The girl said matter-of-factly: "It is not difficult to teach smart people, and I will feel very unfulfilled. But if I can teach you, it will prove that I am smarter than smart people."

"Yeah." The boy didn't know what to say and could only nod. He watched the girl rising, falling and spinning in the empty hall. The lines of her arms and calves were as beautiful as oil paintings. He couldn't help but whisper: "I Can you not learn ballet?"

The girl stopped dancing, her blond hair spread behind her back, she turned to look at him and asked, "Why? I know you are stupid, but I am confident in teaching you."

"Ballet is a dance for girls." The boy hugged his legs and whispered.

"Oh, you're worried about this." The girl said as she walked forward: "Ballet is actually very suitable for you."

"Do you want to say I look like a girl?"

"No, I said ballet is suitable for you because its meaning is very similar to yours."

"Meaning?"

The girl stood in the middle of the empty hall, turned around neatly, raised her long neck, looked down at the timid boy in the corner, and said softly: "Ballet is a dance that imitates swans. Every rising and falling ballet dancer is a swan, and some swans remain silent all their lives." , and will sing a song before death, I think the swan, which has never been known to sing forever, will sing a song before death that is particularly sad and beautiful."

"Are you saying I'm going to die?"

"Everyone will die, it's just a matter of time."

Half of the boy's face was hidden in his arms as he looked at the girl in the center of the hall. The flowing colors of the pupils looking down at him reflected the splendor of the hall.

*

The vibration of the plane woke Lin Nian up. What he saw when he opened his eyes was long hair as gorgeous as gold. For a moment, he couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality. He couldn't help but reach out to touch the soft hair. The blond man, but suddenly someone beside him patted the back of his hand gently, bringing him back to reality.

"I want to dye my hair myself." Lin Xian looked at Lin Nian who was sleeping in a daze and said, "Didn't you see how big his boyfriend is?"

Lin Nian looked up blankly and saw that he was sitting on a United Airlines flight. Sitting not far in front was a blond American girl. The blond hair he saw when he woke up belonged to that girl, and Sitting next to the girl was a tall man who looked like a bodybuilding coach, wearing sports headphones and nodding along to the rhythm.

A warning tone sounded in the cabin, and the sweet voice of the flight attendant told everyone that the plane encountered some controllable airflow, and that vibrations were normal and there was no need to panic.

Lin Nian remembered that he and Lin Xian were sitting on a flight to Chicago International Airport. The journey lasted nearly 13 hours. Cassel College's wealthy people had booked first-class tickets for them. He couldn't stand the boredom of waiting and fell asleep temporarily. passed.

"Seeing that you were sleeping soundly, I didn't help you flatten the seat for fear of waking you up. Are you having a nightmare?" Lin Xian asked.

"No, it shouldn't be a nightmare." Lin Nian bent down and pressed his temples. The memories in the dream disappeared like the melting snow of the first sun. When he tried to remember, it was like holding fine sand in his hands, and the memory couldn't stop slipping through his fingers. It disappeared with the wind until there was nothing left when I opened my hand.

"Forget it if you can't remember. Some people really can't remember what they dreamed about." Lin Xian said.

Lin Nian glanced sideways at Lin Xian. It seemed that in order to avoid getting caught in his hair when boarding the plane, Lin Xian specially tied his hair up and tied it behind his back today. A black ponytail was smooth and soft.

Lin Xian noticed Lin Nian's gaze and raised his eyebrows: "If you want to touch it, just say so. The girl in front is unlikely to agree, but you are still allowed to touch my hair."

"No, forget it." Lin Nian shook his head: "I don't have that hobby."

"That's right." Lin Xian said, "What's your hobby that I still don't understand?"

Lin Nian couldn't help but roll his eyes at her, sighed and said nothing.

"You woke up in time. We will arrive in an hour." Lin Xian looked at the electronic watch on his wrist and said, "I set the time to Chicago time. It should be two o'clock in the afternoon when we arrive at the airport. You look like you haven't slept well. You don't have to be jet-lagged anymore. You fell asleep with your pillow at night."

"The most troublesome thing is after we arrive. We still have to find the train." Lin Nian yawned: "I heard from Senior Sister Mandy that you shouldn't let me look for the CC1000 express train at the Chicago train station because it can't be found in the timetable. , even if you go to the train station attendant, it’s useless.”

"Then where should we look?" Lin Xian frowned.

"Sister Mandy said she would ask one of her seniors to pick us up." Lin Nian recalled: "The name seems to be Fingel von Flins, sixth grade."

"Sixth grade? Does Kassel College have a high school department?" Lin Xian asked in surprise.

"No, it's actually the fourth grade. I just repeated the grade for two years and is considered a legend in the school." Lin Nian hesitated and said, "Senior Sister Mandy said that he was the only one who came to pick us up in Chicago when school started and she had time to run errands. He is quite idle. After all, he is in the fourth grade and has no classes so he idles around in school every day. It is said that he still owes the school a lot of money. Senior Sister Mandy gave him some benefits and covered travel expenses and food expenses. He was very willing to do so. Coming to pick you up."

"Sounds very unreliable." Lin Xian had a wary look on his face.

"I think so too, but Senior Sister Mandy said that this senior is a close friend of Professor Manstein, so she is quite trustworthy. At least she won't kidnap us to dig coal in a dark kiln," Lin Nian said.

"Fingel von Frins." Lin Xian repeated the name: "The name sounds like a German? Isn't there a language barrier?"

"Kassel College has launched a Chinese school. After six years of school, no matter how much you speak Chinese, you should be able to speak Chinese smoothly, right?" Lin Nian said hesitantly.

"Did your senior sister say anything else to pay attention to?" Lin Xian asked.

"Yes." Lin Nian nodded: "She said that if this Senior Fingel sincerely invites me to join the News Department and encourages me to pay the entrance fee in advance, and asks me to just slap him in the face without being polite, she will be responsible for it afterwards."

"Yes." Lin Xian nodded thoughtfully, seeming to have a better understanding of Senior Fingel.

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