Mr. Floating Dream just wants to write
Chapter 31 "Peach Blossom Spring"
Relying on the sense of familiarity that still remained in his body, Atsushi Nakajima managed to find the place in his dream.Pushing aside the peach blossoms in front of me, a small open space was revealed. After seeing a tree, those images that had subsided surged up again.
"At that time, the painting was placed here."
Atsushi Nakajima walked to a familiar place and made familiar movements. He squatted down and stretched his hand towards the place where the painting used to be.
The moment the palm touched the tree trunk, something invisible swayed away like a wave of water.
A playful sound followed.
'here, here. '
'It's that person, what is he doing? '
'Is it painting?But it's different from what I've seen. '
'Wow, is he going to paint me? '
"This is, the memory of this tree?" Kunikida Doppo looked around, they were obviously separated and could not participate in it.All they can see is this record.
The young man with a face of a foreign race also has a unique sense of wonder and exploration of the world. He is standing in the peach blossom forest with painting tools.The words with an accent can't hide the praise and surprise for this place.Before long, he set up the easel, and at this moment some small voices appeared again.
'He really wanted to paint me. '
' is to paint us. '
'I want to look better. '
'Then give him that. '
This small voice was immediately matched. Atsushi Nakajima and the others didn't understand what they were trying to give the young artist, but Xi Ya already understood.The water-green eyes showed a little bit of softness, probably because she was able to talk to grass and trees, and she also had a good impression of these.
'Hmph, this is a rare gift, a gift from the spirit. '
"spirit?"
Atsushi Nakajima seemed to understand something.The black-haired doll in a foreign dress confirmed his thoughts, her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of scaring these little guys away, even though they were in memory. "Spirits can also be called elves. They have their own minds, and grass and tree spirits are also the gentlest kind of spirits." What appeared in everyone's eyes were clusters of light pink light.
It's a small bunch, and it looks pretty cute.
Young people can't see them, they sometimes hide among the peach blossoms or on the peach branches, secretly watching him make one stroke after another.Sometimes it would surround him like fluttering catkins, and occasionally fall on his shoulders. At this time, the young artist would notice it and slow down the movements in his hands.
Days passed, and finally the young man made the last stroke.
' He said the picture was not good. '
'Is it because we're ugly? '
'I am not ugly, obviously you are ugly! '
'You are ugly! '
'He didn't hate us, he said he was going to paint somewhere else to practice. '
'Then when will he come again? '
The little spirits gathered together, huddled together one after another, their voices were full of reluctance, they discussed in a low voice, and finally made a decision.
'Go ask grandpa. '
'Grandpa must have a way. '
'But grandpa is far away from us. '
'But there is always one who wants to go to grandpa, who will go? '
'I do not want to go. '
The Xiaotuanzi refused one by one, and finally pushed back one by one, which made people laugh out loud.Kunikida Doppo coughed twice, he was too childlike, Dazai Osamu shook his shoulders twice, probably also laughing.Siya covered her mouth, these spirits were still too young.Every word is childish.
Finally, a spirit came out to stop it. It was quite serious, but the childish voice was a little more funny, like a child wearing adult clothes.
'Stop arguing!you go. '
The light pink dumplings finally got their own satisfactory results. Some of them lay in the young man's hair, on his shoulders, and in the painting box. They followed him to leave the imprint of the brush in some places, and the gifts that belonged to the spirit began to be effective. Young people People's paintings are getting better and better, and the aura rushing to his face makes Xiaotuanzi jump for joy. At the same time, he seems to be able to perceive the voices belonging to the spirits.
One day, the man spoke his first sentence as if he was speaking into the air.
Immediately, the spirits started making noise and gathered around him. At this time, the spirit who was ordered to find Grandpa came back with a golden butterfly.
'How did you bring them here! '
'you are stupid! '
'No!Grandpa said that Huamengdie could help him!And only a few! '
'He has our gift, so he doesn't want to turn into a dream butterfly! '
'Grandpa said that, but I didn't insist. '
'Grandpa is not stupid, but you are stupid! '
The little groups were chattering, but the returned spirit seemed to be speechless, and it spoke in a slightly aggrieved voice.
'Give him a try first.If it doesn't work, don't use it. '
The golden butterflies flow colorful brilliance, they dance lightly in the air, and weave light and beautiful dreams for the young painter one after another. Every time he wakes up, the painter shows an excited expression, and then comes to the canvas and falls Another stroke of the pen seems to want to draw the things in the dream.
'I always feel like someone is watching me, so do you really exist? 'The young man spoke suddenly, and he made all the spirits quiet down instantly.
Finally, a spirit asked in a thin voice.
'Has he spotted us? '
I got a sparse answer.
'Is this what you look like?I saw it in my dream, are you fairies? 'The young artist stopped his pen and carefully looked at the painting in front of him.
'Really, he's painting us. '
'Can he see us?Also spoke to us. '
'We are not fairies, we are spirits, spirits. '
'By the way, is that kind of goblin?Foxes, dogs, what? '
It's almost like talking to a group of four or five-year-old children.Kunikida Doppo sighed, although he looked a little cruel and unkind, but he had nothing to do with children.
The memories are still going on, the young man's painting skills are getting more and more mature, but his age is also increasing accordingly.Now he can occasionally hear the voices of the spirits, still so immature, like a child.But the painter seems to never get enough of this kind of scenery, he always paints and paints.
'He likes to draw very much. '
'However, he is old. '
'Will he die? '
'Are you stupid?He is human, of course he will die. '
'But......'
The atmosphere suddenly became heavy, people can never get rid of the reincarnation of birth, old age, sickness and death, several human beings quietly looked at this memory, at least, regardless of the painter, although his works are not appreciated by anyone, but this does not prevent him from being regarded as a painter, at least, Painters are happy.
The powerful hands are covered with wrinkles, everything happened as if it was yesterday.
The old painter finally came to the former peach blossom grove. He slowly arranged everything, as if talking to himself, 'this is the last painting.I will definitely paint you, here very beautifully. '
The cloudy eyes gleamed with a smile.
'It should be a grand dream. '
I stared blankly at the painter's writing again and again, as if back in the past, the young man with fearlessness and exploration was full of surprise and admiration, walked in here, and wrote down the pen with the desire to record all this.
Anyone can see that his body is gradually losing vitality, but he still hasn't put down the pen in his hand, rather, on the contrary, he is holding on tighter and tighter.
He is painting this picture with the rest of his life.
Light pink spirits surrounded him, crying, and they really liked this man who came from far away and always praised them.
Those old and muddy eyes became enough to attract people, with light, fire, and infinite yearning, like blooming flowers, the rising sun, dazzling enough, this is the most shining moment of a person in the strange road of life , It is a kind of beauty that belongs to human life.
The painter just has a very pure desire. From young to old, he has found the real thing he wants, wants to paint, and keeps painting.
The hand that was as dry as a dead branch finally stopped.The painter put down his pen, and he looked at the painting in front of him quietly.Carefully taking it off and placing it against the tree trunk, he took two steps back.
'This is the last. '
'The masterpiece of a lifetime.At least for me. '
The old painter smiled like a child, he suddenly raised his head, "You guys have come to pick me up."
At this time, all barriers disappeared.They were standing under the tree, watching this farewell and welcome that belonged to one person.
The golden butterfly flapped its wings and flew out from the peach blossoms, leading the painter forward.With every step, the painter's back will straighten a little; every step, the wrinkles on the skin will disappear a little; every step, his steps will be a little brisk.
"That's what you look like. It looks like I got it right."
The young man was smiling, and there were small light pink balls on his shoulders and in his hair.They accompany his paintings, appearing in every inconspicuous place, small light clusters of light pink.
The painter suddenly turned around, looked at the people standing under the tree, and waved to them, "I'm really sorry for the impact, I'll give that painting to you!"
His figure disappeared among the peach blossoms. He is not alone, and he will continue to paint.
"Mr. Dazai, what is this..."
Atsushi Nakajima looked ahead and asked with doubts.
Dazai Osamu said with a smile: "It's solved. It has promoted the development of the storyline."
"Huh?" Kunikida Doppo turned his head, "What's going on?! Tell me clearly, you waste a bandage device!"
Kunikida Doppo grabbed Dazai Osamu by the collar, quite irritable.
Nakajima Atsushi and Izumi Kyoka glanced at each other, then turned to Sia with a quiet smile, "Miss Sia, what do you think?"
Xi Ya brushed her black hair behind her ears, and her water-green pupils sparkled, "That painter, with pure desire, will keep improving, keep, keep painting."
It's a happy ending, and that's enough.
It seemed that the fog in his mind was cleared away, and Kunikida Doppo, who was holding Osamu Dazai by the collar, paused for a moment, the faces of the villagers who received him became clear, and the people who had been hidden by God appeared, and they integrated into the place without any obstacles.
Xi Ya closed her eyes, her master also loved his profession so much.
【梦の中で会いましょう.
Let us meet in our dreams. 】
=====
The author has something to say:
=====
Well, the copy of "Peach Blossom Spring" is over!I thought I was going to write another chapter.But it's good to end like this.
Today's update!
Regardless of whether you understand it or not, I still want to explain it to you.
The role of the painter is the role of the fisherman in "Peach Blossom Spring".It's just that the painter didn't choose to leave, and went to another ending.
To be precise, "Peach Blossom Land" is a book that is being created. It drags people in and acts as the characters in it. The entry of Dazai and the others is equivalent to promoting the development of the storyline.Its core is a tree, which is the grandfather that the spirits talk about, and it is also the mahogany token brought back by Mr. Shangzhang. The other party is a spirit that has lived for hundreds of years, and can be used as a patron saint.
Siya mentioned before that the "ancient trees have spirits" these peach tree spirits are relatively ignorant, and they drag people in unconsciously.
In fact, the story of "Peach Blossom Spring" is very simple, that is, young people came to Peach Blossom Spring and marveled at the beauty here, so they kept painting, because he is a foreigner, which is different from Chinese ink painting, so spirits like him very much, and he also Always praise her, and her favorability has been greatly improved.However, everyone is from unskilled to proficient in a certain skill, from young to mature. The gifts of the spirits have improved the quality of his paintings, but he is definitely talented, and at the same time he can feel the spirit, Occasionally, the voice of the spirit is heard.Huamengdie can weave dreams, which gives the painter more inspiration and also sees the appearance of spirits.
But human beings are mortal, but the spirits did not choose to intervene, that is, the gods hid, but waited until he was old and about to die, and took him over.Huamengdie can not only weave dreams, but if possible, it can also allow people to obtain eternal life in dreams. That is to say, the painter will finally be with the spirits in an inhuman capacity. He will continue to work hard with the idea of continuing to paint .
I don't know if everyone is satisfied with this story, but I also hope that everyone will work hard towards a certain place with pure desire.
I think everyone wants to read stories in other styles. Currently, every big dungeon is Chinese and Japanese. Small dungeons may have a little Western style, such as the story of Xiya, but if you want to add a big dungeon, this The number of words in this book will increase, depending on everyone's ideas.
There should be nothing I forgot to explain, right?
Anyway, thanks for watching and liking everyone!
"At that time, the painting was placed here."
Atsushi Nakajima walked to a familiar place and made familiar movements. He squatted down and stretched his hand towards the place where the painting used to be.
The moment the palm touched the tree trunk, something invisible swayed away like a wave of water.
A playful sound followed.
'here, here. '
'It's that person, what is he doing? '
'Is it painting?But it's different from what I've seen. '
'Wow, is he going to paint me? '
"This is, the memory of this tree?" Kunikida Doppo looked around, they were obviously separated and could not participate in it.All they can see is this record.
The young man with a face of a foreign race also has a unique sense of wonder and exploration of the world. He is standing in the peach blossom forest with painting tools.The words with an accent can't hide the praise and surprise for this place.Before long, he set up the easel, and at this moment some small voices appeared again.
'He really wanted to paint me. '
' is to paint us. '
'I want to look better. '
'Then give him that. '
This small voice was immediately matched. Atsushi Nakajima and the others didn't understand what they were trying to give the young artist, but Xi Ya already understood.The water-green eyes showed a little bit of softness, probably because she was able to talk to grass and trees, and she also had a good impression of these.
'Hmph, this is a rare gift, a gift from the spirit. '
"spirit?"
Atsushi Nakajima seemed to understand something.The black-haired doll in a foreign dress confirmed his thoughts, her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of scaring these little guys away, even though they were in memory. "Spirits can also be called elves. They have their own minds, and grass and tree spirits are also the gentlest kind of spirits." What appeared in everyone's eyes were clusters of light pink light.
It's a small bunch, and it looks pretty cute.
Young people can't see them, they sometimes hide among the peach blossoms or on the peach branches, secretly watching him make one stroke after another.Sometimes it would surround him like fluttering catkins, and occasionally fall on his shoulders. At this time, the young artist would notice it and slow down the movements in his hands.
Days passed, and finally the young man made the last stroke.
' He said the picture was not good. '
'Is it because we're ugly? '
'I am not ugly, obviously you are ugly! '
'You are ugly! '
'He didn't hate us, he said he was going to paint somewhere else to practice. '
'Then when will he come again? '
The little spirits gathered together, huddled together one after another, their voices were full of reluctance, they discussed in a low voice, and finally made a decision.
'Go ask grandpa. '
'Grandpa must have a way. '
'But grandpa is far away from us. '
'But there is always one who wants to go to grandpa, who will go? '
'I do not want to go. '
The Xiaotuanzi refused one by one, and finally pushed back one by one, which made people laugh out loud.Kunikida Doppo coughed twice, he was too childlike, Dazai Osamu shook his shoulders twice, probably also laughing.Siya covered her mouth, these spirits were still too young.Every word is childish.
Finally, a spirit came out to stop it. It was quite serious, but the childish voice was a little more funny, like a child wearing adult clothes.
'Stop arguing!you go. '
The light pink dumplings finally got their own satisfactory results. Some of them lay in the young man's hair, on his shoulders, and in the painting box. They followed him to leave the imprint of the brush in some places, and the gifts that belonged to the spirit began to be effective. Young people People's paintings are getting better and better, and the aura rushing to his face makes Xiaotuanzi jump for joy. At the same time, he seems to be able to perceive the voices belonging to the spirits.
One day, the man spoke his first sentence as if he was speaking into the air.
Immediately, the spirits started making noise and gathered around him. At this time, the spirit who was ordered to find Grandpa came back with a golden butterfly.
'How did you bring them here! '
'you are stupid! '
'No!Grandpa said that Huamengdie could help him!And only a few! '
'He has our gift, so he doesn't want to turn into a dream butterfly! '
'Grandpa said that, but I didn't insist. '
'Grandpa is not stupid, but you are stupid! '
The little groups were chattering, but the returned spirit seemed to be speechless, and it spoke in a slightly aggrieved voice.
'Give him a try first.If it doesn't work, don't use it. '
The golden butterflies flow colorful brilliance, they dance lightly in the air, and weave light and beautiful dreams for the young painter one after another. Every time he wakes up, the painter shows an excited expression, and then comes to the canvas and falls Another stroke of the pen seems to want to draw the things in the dream.
'I always feel like someone is watching me, so do you really exist? 'The young man spoke suddenly, and he made all the spirits quiet down instantly.
Finally, a spirit asked in a thin voice.
'Has he spotted us? '
I got a sparse answer.
'Is this what you look like?I saw it in my dream, are you fairies? 'The young artist stopped his pen and carefully looked at the painting in front of him.
'Really, he's painting us. '
'Can he see us?Also spoke to us. '
'We are not fairies, we are spirits, spirits. '
'By the way, is that kind of goblin?Foxes, dogs, what? '
It's almost like talking to a group of four or five-year-old children.Kunikida Doppo sighed, although he looked a little cruel and unkind, but he had nothing to do with children.
The memories are still going on, the young man's painting skills are getting more and more mature, but his age is also increasing accordingly.Now he can occasionally hear the voices of the spirits, still so immature, like a child.But the painter seems to never get enough of this kind of scenery, he always paints and paints.
'He likes to draw very much. '
'However, he is old. '
'Will he die? '
'Are you stupid?He is human, of course he will die. '
'But......'
The atmosphere suddenly became heavy, people can never get rid of the reincarnation of birth, old age, sickness and death, several human beings quietly looked at this memory, at least, regardless of the painter, although his works are not appreciated by anyone, but this does not prevent him from being regarded as a painter, at least, Painters are happy.
The powerful hands are covered with wrinkles, everything happened as if it was yesterday.
The old painter finally came to the former peach blossom grove. He slowly arranged everything, as if talking to himself, 'this is the last painting.I will definitely paint you, here very beautifully. '
The cloudy eyes gleamed with a smile.
'It should be a grand dream. '
I stared blankly at the painter's writing again and again, as if back in the past, the young man with fearlessness and exploration was full of surprise and admiration, walked in here, and wrote down the pen with the desire to record all this.
Anyone can see that his body is gradually losing vitality, but he still hasn't put down the pen in his hand, rather, on the contrary, he is holding on tighter and tighter.
He is painting this picture with the rest of his life.
Light pink spirits surrounded him, crying, and they really liked this man who came from far away and always praised them.
Those old and muddy eyes became enough to attract people, with light, fire, and infinite yearning, like blooming flowers, the rising sun, dazzling enough, this is the most shining moment of a person in the strange road of life , It is a kind of beauty that belongs to human life.
The painter just has a very pure desire. From young to old, he has found the real thing he wants, wants to paint, and keeps painting.
The hand that was as dry as a dead branch finally stopped.The painter put down his pen, and he looked at the painting in front of him quietly.Carefully taking it off and placing it against the tree trunk, he took two steps back.
'This is the last. '
'The masterpiece of a lifetime.At least for me. '
The old painter smiled like a child, he suddenly raised his head, "You guys have come to pick me up."
At this time, all barriers disappeared.They were standing under the tree, watching this farewell and welcome that belonged to one person.
The golden butterfly flapped its wings and flew out from the peach blossoms, leading the painter forward.With every step, the painter's back will straighten a little; every step, the wrinkles on the skin will disappear a little; every step, his steps will be a little brisk.
"That's what you look like. It looks like I got it right."
The young man was smiling, and there were small light pink balls on his shoulders and in his hair.They accompany his paintings, appearing in every inconspicuous place, small light clusters of light pink.
The painter suddenly turned around, looked at the people standing under the tree, and waved to them, "I'm really sorry for the impact, I'll give that painting to you!"
His figure disappeared among the peach blossoms. He is not alone, and he will continue to paint.
"Mr. Dazai, what is this..."
Atsushi Nakajima looked ahead and asked with doubts.
Dazai Osamu said with a smile: "It's solved. It has promoted the development of the storyline."
"Huh?" Kunikida Doppo turned his head, "What's going on?! Tell me clearly, you waste a bandage device!"
Kunikida Doppo grabbed Dazai Osamu by the collar, quite irritable.
Nakajima Atsushi and Izumi Kyoka glanced at each other, then turned to Sia with a quiet smile, "Miss Sia, what do you think?"
Xi Ya brushed her black hair behind her ears, and her water-green pupils sparkled, "That painter, with pure desire, will keep improving, keep, keep painting."
It's a happy ending, and that's enough.
It seemed that the fog in his mind was cleared away, and Kunikida Doppo, who was holding Osamu Dazai by the collar, paused for a moment, the faces of the villagers who received him became clear, and the people who had been hidden by God appeared, and they integrated into the place without any obstacles.
Xi Ya closed her eyes, her master also loved his profession so much.
【梦の中で会いましょう.
Let us meet in our dreams. 】
=====
The author has something to say:
=====
Well, the copy of "Peach Blossom Spring" is over!I thought I was going to write another chapter.But it's good to end like this.
Today's update!
Regardless of whether you understand it or not, I still want to explain it to you.
The role of the painter is the role of the fisherman in "Peach Blossom Spring".It's just that the painter didn't choose to leave, and went to another ending.
To be precise, "Peach Blossom Land" is a book that is being created. It drags people in and acts as the characters in it. The entry of Dazai and the others is equivalent to promoting the development of the storyline.Its core is a tree, which is the grandfather that the spirits talk about, and it is also the mahogany token brought back by Mr. Shangzhang. The other party is a spirit that has lived for hundreds of years, and can be used as a patron saint.
Siya mentioned before that the "ancient trees have spirits" these peach tree spirits are relatively ignorant, and they drag people in unconsciously.
In fact, the story of "Peach Blossom Spring" is very simple, that is, young people came to Peach Blossom Spring and marveled at the beauty here, so they kept painting, because he is a foreigner, which is different from Chinese ink painting, so spirits like him very much, and he also Always praise her, and her favorability has been greatly improved.However, everyone is from unskilled to proficient in a certain skill, from young to mature. The gifts of the spirits have improved the quality of his paintings, but he is definitely talented, and at the same time he can feel the spirit, Occasionally, the voice of the spirit is heard.Huamengdie can weave dreams, which gives the painter more inspiration and also sees the appearance of spirits.
But human beings are mortal, but the spirits did not choose to intervene, that is, the gods hid, but waited until he was old and about to die, and took him over.Huamengdie can not only weave dreams, but if possible, it can also allow people to obtain eternal life in dreams. That is to say, the painter will finally be with the spirits in an inhuman capacity. He will continue to work hard with the idea of continuing to paint .
I don't know if everyone is satisfied with this story, but I also hope that everyone will work hard towards a certain place with pure desire.
I think everyone wants to read stories in other styles. Currently, every big dungeon is Chinese and Japanese. Small dungeons may have a little Western style, such as the story of Xiya, but if you want to add a big dungeon, this The number of words in this book will increase, depending on everyone's ideas.
There should be nothing I forgot to explain, right?
Anyway, thanks for watching and liking everyone!
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