Died at the age of 17

On the other side is a sea of ​​bright red intertwined with blood, a sweet and fragrant smell fills the nostrils, and a blood-red shadow is reflected in the eyes that are as clear as water.Their life is just a lonely boat in a sea of ​​blood, but they don't know if the other side is another piece of blue sky and blue sea.

The fire burns the golden picture scroll, the warm childhood years, the close and harmonious family relationship, the sweet dreams, withered and decayed with the flames, drifting with the wind, no one will remember.

That night, the elder brother picked up the younger brother from the pool of blood.Stepping on the blood of his parents, he fled from Paris in a hurry.

That death itself was a funeral, ruining my brother's youth.His love and his hope were ruined along with that night.For the rest of his life, he will carry on with hatred.He didn't want to, but he was powerless.

Ten years have passed.The gears of fate never stop turning.They will eventually go to their own destiny.

The bright flowers are swaying and whispering love words, and the waves of wheat are surging into a deep green ocean.

He had just turned 17, in the prime of his youth.Like all the good things in this spring, the eyes of this boy who is as clear as the sea are burning with the flame of love that will never be extinguished.The soft dark chestnut hair was curled on the head and around the corners of the eyes, softening the thin outline of the teenager.

The elder brother stood beside him, silently buttoning the last button on the collar of his shirt, wrapping his slender pale fingers around him, and tied the loose bow tie.He took off the pearl cuff buttons and buttoned them on the cuffs of his brother's shirt.Finally, he wrapped his arms around his younger brother's shoulders and hugged him gently.

'Chamusha, when you arrive in Paris, remember to write. ’ There were thousands of words and deep worries, and Charlotte could not speak them.He just looked at his younger brother, it was a kind of loneliness like looking through autumn water.In those eyes, all kinds of deep and warm passion and love once surged, but now they have been burned into ashes, and the dimness in the eyes disappears.

It was late spring, but Charlotte was still wearing a thick coat, and her body was emaciated under the coat.His face was bloodless, almost morbidly pale. He was clearly a young man, but he looked like an old man on the verge of death.He is 15 years older than Xia Musha.The years have never let him go, engraving the sensuality of his youth into old and tired.The living are living in the world with the expectation and pain of the dead on their backs. That gloomy emotion has already turned into a heavy burden, which weighs on him and turns into typhoid fever and consumption.

He stared at Xia Musha going away, the wheels were rolling, the dust was flying, and the figure disappeared.He finally couldn't help coughing heavily, and covered his pale face with a white handkerchief, and the bright red blood stains on the handkerchief were shocking.As if in an instant, the entire Spring World was withering and dying, and dead vines grew wildly in the ashen air, surrounding him.

Xia Mousha may never understand her brother's pain.Charlotte once watched his family members being brutally murdered and their corpses exposed on the street. The glory that this family once brought him turned into a shadow in an instant.His ties to the world were brutally torn, and all ties were taken away.In the human world, the last person connected with his blood is Xia Musha.Xia Mousha is the last hope of his gloomy life, the charcoal fire in the ice and snow, the sweet spring in the desert.

Another figure gradually emerged in his mind, his figure was already blurred, but his smile was an indelible memory and nightmare.It reminded him of his long-gone youth, when he had been so radiant.A sickly blush appeared on his pale face, he smiled, and there were shallow tears in the corners of his eyes.

The year she left Paris, Xia Musha was only seven years old, and the traces of the prosperity of the past turned into hazy bubbles, buried in the corner of dreams, and when the morning dew covered the grass leaves, it also dissipated with the wind.Now he returned to Paris in his carriage, and returned to the hometown of his dreams.Paris, every time he utters this word, Xia Musha always feels an inexplicable tremor. He can't explain the complicated emotions in his heart at the moment, but the corners of his mouth are slightly curved, and the mature melancholy can't conceal the eager anticipation and joy. .

The carriage was already dilapidated, and it was the brother's when they fled here from Paris.The driver was an honest and young farmer in the village. The elder brother gave some money and told him to go to Paris to take care of his younger brother.

The bright spring light shines through the roof of the car, and the bitter and fresh breath of the sea fills the nostrils.The blue water rolled up pale waves and slapped on the path passed by the carriage.In his hand, Xia Musha was always holding a pencil made of carbon rods and a manuscript paper made of rough leather scraps, and he was always writing.The sun was dazzling, and Xia Musha suddenly felt like Icarus, flying in the direction of the sun with all his might.His eyes flickered and danced, and he gradually fell into a kind of obsession that almost fainted.

He is thinking about him.

Xia Musha didn't know his name, Xia Musha belonged to the person he saw in the book that his brother carried with him.On the title page of the book, his charcoal portrait is drawn.The painter's roughness is almost simple, but it can't conceal his fragrance that permeates time and space.

His eyes are so soft and compassionate, as if he can embrace the softest tenderness and melt the hardest ruthlessness.The bright brilliance overflowed from the gray and white handwriting, hidden deep in the boy's heart.

When asked about his identity, his brother Charlotte always slammed the book shut, evasive.Xia Musha only knew that he should be a writer.But Charlotte didn't understand that the elder brother, who knew so much about the world's literary giants and talked about anecdotes from ancient and modern times, was so vague about everything about that person.But he couldn't forget that when he saw his brother alone, he looked at the book with an almost desperate sadness.

Somewhere, Xia Mousha had a premonition and expectation that he would be able to see him when he arrived in Paris. That person lived in his brother's youthful memories and lived in Paris.He felt that he had touched the edge of the secret, and also touched the most secret feeling in his heart, a pure, passionate love, the love of a teenager.

"The young master is really a kind person. He has a hard life, but he still helps us. Everyone in the village has received help and alms from the young master more or less. But the young master is always depressed. Only When he helps others, he seems to be relieved and relieved."

The coachman chattered loudly, he realized that he seemed to have said something wrong, paused, looked at Xia Musha carefully, and was relieved to find that he didn't care.The coachman only knew that the Charlotte brothers were fallen nobles from Paris, and he didn't know anything else.He still remembered the day when the two of them came, they were in a carriage driven by an old servant with gray temples. It was this carriage, the horse was old, and the old servant passed away a few years ago.

When they came to this small seaside village, the Charlotte brothers didn't bring much money, and they pawned off their jewelry and dresses before buying a property.It was the old servant who was always planting. It wasn't until he passed away a few years ago that my elder brother stepped out of the field and cultivated it himself.The pale and slender hand that was supposed to hold the pen holder held the wheat seedlings, drawing bloodshot threads.The villagers couldn't see it, so they volunteered to help, so that the lives of the two brothers were maintained.

Although the villagers were close to the two brothers out of pity, they kept a distance.Everyone in the village knew that the two brothers did not belong here and that they would eventually return to Paris. "It's good to go back." The coachman whispered without losing relief.

It is far away from Paris. The coachman drove the thin old horse for nearly 20 days before arriving at a small city in the suburbs of Paris.When he started to sigh at the prosperity, he found that the young master Xia Musha who was sitting in his car had disappeared at some point.He broke out in a cold sweat, how could he explain to the young master.

An hour ago, Xia Mousha jumped out of the car through the window, and he saw the glimpse of this bustling city earlier than the driver.He felt a mysterious call from the depths of his soul gradually becoming stronger, mixed with excitement and anxiety.He knew that this was calling him back to his dream hometown, but he didn't know that it was also calling him to his destiny.

When he was a child, he often listened to his brother recalling Paris, recalling the evening breeze of the Seine River, the Champs-Elysées with flowers blooming on the temples, the noble girls dancing in various dresses, and the teenagers in their well-groomed and handsome clothes.Paris, Paris and the man, the man who had been in his heart since childhood.He must go to Paris alone, to meet him alone.

He didn't forget why he came here, but he didn't want to remember that all this was too heavy for him at the age of 17.He remembered his brother's entrustment the day before he set off. He returned to Paris for the glory of the family and for the family to be redressed.Boys of this age are always brave and timid, and Xia Musha is no exception. He has the courage to go to the light without hesitation at the expense of his life, and he also has a timid and sad feeling of being at a loss for the gloomy future.

Perhaps it can also be said that all this could have been carried by the elder brother Charlotte.It's just that he can't walk anymore, he is too tired, only he knows, maybe he will never go back to Paris.He felt that his life was not long, but he still hoped to see that person again before he died. He wanted to kneel down and kiss the dust in front of that person, and confess to that person the pain that had tortured him for so many years.Only in this way can everything come to an end and he can be freed.However, he never thought that he would eventually push all this to his younger brother.He thought that if he lived one more day, he would be able to carry this burden for his younger brother for one more day.However, fate will eventually befall him.

It was near dusk.The dark blood-colored dome weighs heavily on the gray city.No one knows how many crimes are hidden in the black sludge surging in the dark corners behind the glamor of this city.

Xia Musha felt suffocated for a while, this is Paris, the beautiful Paris in his dream was displayed in the most real way before his eyes.

"Brother, do you buy flowers?" An immature child's voice sounded in his ears, Xia Musha looked down and saw a poor girl covered in plaster showing him the flowers in her flower basket.He took off the pearl cufflinks on his cuffs, knelt down and put them in the little girl's hands.He looked at the little girl with a smile, then took out a bunch of light blue iris from the basket, held it in his hand, and said softly, "Your flowers are more beautiful than pearls." The little girl wanted to smile but couldn't. It's been a long time since she smiled, and she almost forgot how to smile.

This little girl reminded Xia Musha of his sister, who was separated from her on the eve of his escape from Paris. He and his brother Charlotte knew that the chance of her sister's survival was almost zero, so the two brothers kept this sister secret. Existence fades away with the memory of Paris.

The illustrious lord and his wife drove past the street in a gorgeous carriage, splashing mud and water all over the dirty clothes and face of the little girl. The little girl hurriedly hid the flower basket behind her, and was shocked by the horse. fell to the ground.After the carriage passed by, she lay on the ground, trying to find the lost pearl from the muddy water.

Xia Mousha helped the little girl up from the muddy water, then held her in her arms, gently wiped the muddy water on her face, untied the cuff button on the other side and put it in the little girl's hand.These are the pair of cufflinks his brother wore when he fled, and the only pair of cufflinks he has left.But she needs it more than he does.

The author has something to say:

The new article has opened up, this is probably the only happy thing in recent days.

If you like this article, please click on the favorite.

Start to revise the text, and correct the unclear clues.