Cold weapons are a man's romance

"Does the baguette hurt so much?" Roman pressed the ice pack on his head, lying on Cesar's bed, grinning and asking.

Cesar was hanging around his neck with one hand, and carrying a baguette in the other, as if he was ready to hit Roman's head again at any time.

"I thought there was a burglar in the house!" He said, "You're lucky if you didn't get shot when you sneaked into someone's house so sneakily. A baguette is not bad!"

"How could a thief be willing to enter your house? Even if he did, he would be scared away by the things in this house, okay?"

Cesar bit his lip and clenched his baguette tightly, as if he was going to beat Roman to the head, killing people and destroying his body.

"You...you know everything?" He asked tremblingly.

"Uh, seeing these things, is it hard to know?" Roman waved his hand, gesturing to the many posters in the room, "Unless you post so many photos to nail villains and curse me."

The corner of Cesar's mouth twitched, and he turned his face away and changed the subject bluntly: "This is my house, I can decorate it however I want, but why do you barge in?" He pointed at the door and said roughly, "If you are not dead, go out by yourself, otherwise I will carry your body out!"

Roman got up when he heard the words, and the severe dizziness made him stagger.Cesar immediately dropped the baguette, grabbed him by the arm, and then pushed him away in disgust.

"I just want to ask you some questions." Roman squeezed out a smile, "But you refused to answer my calls, and you weren't at the club, so I had to come to your house. What can I do?"

"You can stand obediently at the door and wait for the master to come back!"

"Then can I go to the door now? We can stand in the elevator and talk." After speaking, Roman staggered towards the door.

"Enough! Come back!" Cesar cried.

Roman snickered and sat back on the bed.He found that although Cesar was not polite, his heart was towards him.He is Cesar's idol!Cesar even had his picture posted all over the wall!Who else in the world has this kind of treatment!Edward?Let him go to hell!

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Cesar stamped impatiently.

"Why keep hiding from me?"

"What did I hide from you? I respect you as a fencer, but that doesn't mean anything. Should I print out a list of my idols and give it to everyone I know?"

"It's more than that, Mr. Silverking."

The blood color faded from Cesar's face in an instant, he was as pale as a corpse that had just passed away, and then blood surged up again, making him as red as a crab thrown into a steamer.

"You...how do you even know this?!" He asked angrily, "Who told you? August? I'm going to peel off the skin of that little bastard and hang him on a bamboo pole as a bug net!"

"The police told me. They caught the guy who attacked me, and guess what? She's always calling me names online, and the guy she was talking to..."

Roman stopped intentionally.He couldn't continue to stimulate Cesar anymore, because the silver-haired coach squatted down and hugged his knees, buried his head in his thighs, and made a strange "whooping" sound, as if there was an air leak somewhere.Roman understands how he feels at this moment.It is already very embarrassing to lose his horse online, but it is even more embarrassing to be stripped of his vest in reality, not to mention that it was the police who uncovered his vest... It is amazing that he did not rush out of the balcony and jump off the building like a screaming steam train on the spot. up.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! It's me! Now you know everything! Can you let me die!" Cesar roared in despair.

"Why keep hiding from me?" Roman asked the same question again, "You knew me long before I went to BOTN, but you kept pretending that we met for the first time. What the hell are you thinking?"

"How do you want me to speak?" Cesar raised his eyes, revealing half of his red face, "Do you want me to say, 'Hey Roman, I'm your brainless fan. For the sake of working so hard, please join our club’? I hope to persuade you to join Jiguang, but I don’t want you to know who I am! And you said it yourself, you don’t appreciate pink and black flings, how can I tell you the truth What? I can only pretend that I don’t know anything, otherwise what do you do if you hate me?”

He was so aggrieved that Roman was too embarrassed to continue questioning him.Well, if Roman often flirts with his favorite singer's blacks on the Internet, he probably wouldn't dare to recognize the singer himself in real life.

"I don't hate you." Roman said with relief, "I'm just... I was scared. How could I have imagined that the great 'Caesar of the Sword' would actually like me?"

He pointed weakly at the picture frame directly opposite the bed, "You even have my autograph! How did you get it? I don't even remember signing it for you. I mean, if someone as good-looking as you comes If you ask me for an autograph, I will never forget it."

Cesar suddenly felt wronged again.

Roman asked, "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"You, you really don't remember anything?"

"...Did you look different before than now?"

"I really don't remember?" Cesar looked like he was going to cry at any time, "It was about seven years ago, you won the national championship, and Mr. Blackson took me to you to ask for an autograph. Wheelchair, do you really have no memory at all?"

Roman's brain buzzed.

The past is like a film rewinding rapidly, and the scenes are presented in front of his eyes.

Seven years ago, a national championship, a teenager in a wheelchair and an old man who looked like his grandpa.

"So that's you?!"

***

"I don't want to touch the sword again."

Cesar Ripa, covered in bandages, sits in a wheelchair like a sullen mummy.The caretaker pushed his wheelchair for a walk in the garden.Birds chirping, butterflies fluttering, green grass and flowers blooming, this beauty did not make the boy happy at all.

"What did you say?" asked the old man in a black suit standing beside him with his hands behind his back.

"I said Mr. Blackson, I don't want to touch the sword again." Cesar stared at the goddess statue in the middle of the garden and said calmly, "Without Edward, I have no reason to continue practicing swords. I'm much better and more talented. Everything I do is to beat him on the field. Not to win a championship, not to make anyone happy, but to beat him, just one guy."

"You have defeated him." The old man said, "or, he lost to himself. He gave up the sword, which means he lost everything. But you, you can continue to win. Edward is not the only swordsman in the world Masters, there are other people, other countries also have swordsmen who study swordsmanship, and one day you will meet a strong enemy in the arena."

"If the strong enemy is not Edward, then there is no point in defeating him." Cesar tried to shrug his shoulders, but the severe pain made him hiss, "not to mention that I have already been injured like this. Even if one day I Stand up, I'm afraid I won't be able to practice sword anymore."

Mr. Blackson was silent.He knew about Cesar's injury, everyone knew about it.The doctor said that it is not impossible for him to recover. After all, he is still young, and young people are always very resilient. "It's not impossible."ha.When the doctor said that, he probably meant "it's just impossible."

"At least you have to cooperate with the rehabilitation plan. This is not for anyone, but for yourself. The nurse said that you have been very passive and slow at work recently, and you have not completed the exercise plan arranged by the doctor on time."

"I don't know what's the use of doing that." The boy's once shining eyes like stars dimmed, "I have tried hard, Mr. Blackson, I have tried my best to achieve everything you want me to achieve, but in the end It's all in vain. What's the use of trying?"

The old man knelt down beside the wheelchair and held the boy's arm in a cast. "You've been so depressed recently, it must be because you've been bored for too long. Let's go for a walk."

"I don't want to go out. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Get ready to get out of the car," Mr. Blackson said to the orderly.

Cesar still wants to refuse, but once the old man is determined to do something, no one can stop him. He couldn't stop him when he was a healthy and healthy person, not to mention that he is now on the verge of being disabled and can only sit in a wheelchair. on one's last legs.

He could only watch helplessly as the driver brought the car over, and the attendant carried him into the car, folded the wheelchair and put it in the trunk.He made no comment the whole time, and even if he yelled in protest, Mr. Blackson would not answer him.

He looked gloomily at the swiftly passing scenery outside the window, without asking where they were going.He doesn't care about that.He doesn't care about anything now.It doesn't matter to him anyway.

Mr. Blackson didn't seem to have any definite destination, but just asked the driver to take a random turn around the city to let Cesar relax.They quickly turned to the gate of a gymnasium.Cesar still remembers this place vividly, not long ago they participated in the Silver Memorial here, he won the first championship of his life, and lost his best friend.

There are a lot of billboards at the entrance of the gymnasium, and banners are also drawn on the door, as if some grand event is being held.Maybe some kind of competition.Isn't that what gyms are for?

"What are they doing?" Cesar asked hoarsely.

"Stop," ordered Mr. Blackson.

After the car stopped, the old man looked at the banner of the gymnasium. "It's the national fencing championship."

"Oh." Cesar pouted, indicating that he was not interested.

"Do you want to go see it?"

"No. I'll just ask."

"Go and have a look," said the old man.

Cesar was lifted out of the car again and placed in a wheelchair.Mr. Blackson asked the driver to wait elsewhere, and personally pushed Cesar's wheelchair into the stadium to buy tickets.When the volunteers at the gate who were in charge of guiding the flow of people saw the pair of elderly and disabled people, they immediately surrounded them sympathetically and guided them to take the barrier-free elevator.

They were the last to arrive and could only buy the back seats.For Cesar it makes no difference whether he has a seat or not, he is confined to a wheelchair.Halfway through the game, Cesar, who is currently fighting, doesn't know anyone.Although fencing and martial arts can be said to have the same origin, they are two completely different competitive sports after all, and he doesn't care about fencing at all.

But he was quickly attracted by a player on the field.

That man was agile, his offense was like fire, his defense was as immovable as a mountain, and his footwork was so smooth that his opponent was helpless to fight back.At first, Cesar just planned to take a casual look and deal with Mr. Blackson, but he couldn't help but plunged into it, worried about the contestant's victory or defeat.

At the end of the round, the man really won.He shook hands with his opponent, then turned to the audience, took off his fencing mask and bowed deeply.There was warm applause from the audience, and Cesar wanted to applaud too, but he couldn't play with his hands.

"Who is that?" he asked hoarsely. "Mr. Blackson, who is that man?"

The old man helped his reading glasses: "His name should be printed on the screen, I guess."

Cesar raised his head with difficulty, trying to make out the distant text.

— Roman.