Noble Villa [Whistling]

When he was five years old, he left home and set foot on a vast continent. In addition to fear and confusion, Bolton felt more hatred.He couldn't understand his father's act of abandoning himself for a black slave, although it was nominally to accumulate contacts for his future development.But he was actually exiled because he couldn't accept his father's lover—the black slave.

Dad gave him a lot of money, but for a child, it has no other use except to buy a few more toys.When he boarded the cruise ship, he swore that when he grew up and returned to the United States, he would sell all the black slaves in the manor.That's the color of the devil, and he'll never do the same.

When he came to London for the first time, he couldn't understand so many levels of etiquette.But he keenly found that many people didn't like him, or were laughing at him.Children's instincts are sharp, and Burton is especially vulnerable.He had to pretend he didn't care about everything, even defiant arrogance to cover up his inferiority complex.

So without knowing it, he provoked the most terrifying force in all of Walt, God knows how frustrated he was at the time.The young Bolton wanted to leave everyone before he knew the exact meaning of death.

Fortunately, he has friends by his side. When he thinks about it later, Bolton always sighs silently.If he didn't have the right group of friends around at that time, he didn't know what would have happened.

"Would you like some coffee?" Roy was half lying on the bed, leaning on his muscular body, and gently stroking Bolton's blond hair.

"No, black tea, without sugar and cream." Bolton said subconsciously, "Don't mess around, it will be messy. I just asked a French designer to make it."

The wind blows through the curtains, bringing the breath of green grass.

"Sir? What do you need?" The valet stood aside awkwardly and looked at the master who was talking to himself.

"Oh." Bolton woke up suddenly, looked at the gray-haired old man in the mirror, and smiled helplessly.He forgot that Roy had been dead for two years.

"Is it raining?" Bolton asked in a daze.

"Yes, this is the first rain this year." The servant replied happily.

"The rain is the most annoying thing." Edgar, the perfect heir in front of outsiders, was innocent and mischievous like a child in front of familiar people, "When will London have good weather?"

"I think it's great, Jessica will never go out on such a day." Locke looked out the window, "I'm ready to have a good day with her."

"How can you treat Sophie like this? It's as annoying as the weather." Edgar said dissatisfiedly, his disgust was beyond words.

"You are empathizing, Edgar, not all noble ladies are Isabella." Locke took Edgar's hat with a smile, threw it in the air and said, "Learn to enjoy life, you will always meet I want to spend every day in bed with someone."

"Lockwood!"

Bolton subconsciously went to pick up the hat.

"What are you looking for?"

"Edgar's top hat, Edgar won't go out if he can't find it. That guy is the most concerned about these formal things. He has such a cute child's face, but his behavior is simply the representative of the oldest gentleman. Bolton complained with a smile.

"Father, Aunt Isabella is here to find you." The young and handsome man lifted up the trembling Bolton. He had black hair and eyes, as black as ink.The man looked at him worriedly, "Are you okay?"

Bolton looked at the stranger in front of him and thought for a long time.

"I'm Green." The man said helplessly, "Your adopted son."

"Of course, I remember." Bolton's eyes lit up, recalling the little boy Isabella gave him many years ago.Roy was so fond of children that Burton was so jealous during that time. "Help me to see her."

"It's better for me to come to you." Isabella stood at the door leaning on a cane, wearing a long black dress, vaguely recognizable of her delicate appearance back then, "Since the average age of women is much older than men, I don't Tell me how long you have been waiting."

"Aunt Isa."

"Oh, Green. Even though your father is a big jerk, you seem to be a good boy now." Isabella held out her hand to Green.Although hand kissing is no longer popular outside, Green still does it very standard.

"Forgive Green for being careful, I am not in a good condition to meet guests, especially the noble lady." Bolton said mockingly, "Is there any news from England? Which of my friends has answered God's call again. "

"Everyone who should leave has left, and the rest are old antiques." Isabella said, "Our respected Prime Minister seems to be coming soon."

"Oh, I wish I could be faster than him." Bolton smiled wryly, "so that I have at least one friend who can truly mourn me at my funeral."

"If I were alive then, there wouldn't be such a thing as champagne at your funeral." Isabella sipped her tea and said after a pause, "Can you imagine, I seem to have seen my brother."

"Edgar?" Bolton straightened up excitedly. Forty years ago, Edgar disposed of all his property and disappeared suddenly. No one knew where he went.

"I'm not sure, it seems to me," thought Isabella. "He was very young, and wore a broad cloak. He rode with another man, who lowered his hat brim to me. The man I forgot." Who is it, it seems very familiar."

"It must be that no one can do this action better." Bolton said with emotion, "I almost forgot his young appearance, but I can almost imagine the scene you mentioned. Human memory It's strange that I can still remember those strange little habits of his back then."

"Yes." Isabella sighed, looking at the curtains blown by the wind.The sky was clear from the rain, as it used to be at Thrushcross Grange years ago.

"I have a question for you. We have been puzzled for a long time." Bolton said in a tired tone, "What did Edgar say to you when he sent you away back then?"

"What did he say?" Isabella repeated the question.Recalling, he said slowly:

"The girl has become a woman, but I still guard you."

Edgar looked at the window and read this sentence softly.

"Don't you want to go in and take a look? Bolton misses you very much." The man beside him asked, "This is probably the last time you can still see a living friend."

"No need." Edgar looked at the crows circling in the sky and said, "Let's go."

The function of time is to forget.The boy's eyes are always dazzling, Wharton's students flow in an endless stream, and no one will remember sadness.

The author has something to say:

It's over, this time it's really over

It took almost half a year, and I broke it off after several times of thinking, and finally finished writing

Whether to write it down or not is the question

but don't want to say goodbye

If I were to write it down, I might try a bigger world view

that would be a whole different story

Every time I think about my current situation, I feel that I am masochistic. . . .