mud buddha

"The first time snowdrops appeared, it was in the Bible. Adam and Eve were driven out of the Garden of Eden, surrounded by cold winds, covered with ice and snow, an angel floated up, grabbed a snowflake from mid-air and handed it to Eve When it fell into her hands, the snowflake had turned into a pure white flower, and when she raised her head, the angel had already drifted away."

Benoit pushed him and walked slowly. After a moment of silence, he took a breath and continued: "When the angel left, tell her to have hope for tomorrow, and winter will pass soon."

Nibel reached for Benoit's hand on the back of the chair, and Benoit held him obediently.They were both wearing bearskin gloves at this time, and they couldn't feel each other's temperature, they just held each other lightly.Niebel was reluctant to wear gloves. He felt that it was not so cold, but Benoit insisted on taking precautions.

"Although you can't see it now, it will be ready soon." Benoit didn't finish speaking, he wanted to say that the flower language of snowdrops is hope, but he swallowed the words when he opened his mouth.He felt that it would be a bit naive and hypocritical to say it, so he hesitated for a while and added: "It must be possible. You can see it next time."

"Why can't I see?" Nibel laughed, and grasped Benoit's hand tightly. The glove was tightly attached to the glove. In a trance, he felt the warmth of the other's palm along the thick fur. "When you see it, I see it."

Benoit would have blushed had it not been for the cold.Although early spring has arrived, the weather is still not warm for Benoit, and he is still wearing a thick coat.

He was inexplicably uncomfortable and wanted to tighten his neckline, but both hands had to be busy, one hand was holding Nibel, the other was pushing the wheelchair, he didn't want to let go of either hand, and in the end he didn't do anything .

"I don't know if I remember correctly, but I also heard the story of snowdrops when I was very young." He turned his head to look at both sides of the road, and changed the subject without saying anything.

"It's the first time I've heard it."

"Ah? Haven't you heard of Andersen's fairy tale? The Snowdrop."

"No." Nibel leaned back, "tell me tonight."

Facing the arbitrarily commanding tone of the other party, Benoit didn't feel that there was anything wrong, echoed him, and told him to read to him as soon as he returned.

"Don't fall asleep after hearing half of it again."

"I'll try my best. It's because what you read before was too boring. The whole day is just some romance about you love me and I love you. It's old-fashioned."

These "old-fashioned" Benoit liked it quite a bit, and he subconsciously retorted: "That is, anyway, these affairs are normal for you, and those male protagonists even have to learn from you."

After he finished speaking, he realized that something was wrong.In recent days, the two of them kept silent about the past, and he stood still in some panic, like Pandora opening that magic box for the first time.

"I didn't mean that..." Benoit pursed his lips.

"It's okay. I also learned from them when it comes to those things." Nibel let go and folded his hands on his knees.

Benoit bent down and pressed on Nibel's shoulders to catch Nibel's two hands on his knees.Nibel felt that the hand holding him was particularly slender, and lost the roughness of the bearskin glove.

"Did you take off the gloves?" He knew how weak Benoit was, so he quickly turned his hand over to cover that hand, and Benoit's slender fingers were held in his palm.

Benoit was noncommittal, snorted twice, a little proud.

"Hurry up and put it on, it's very cold outside, and you usually have to hug the heater in this weather."

"I put it on, are you going to let it go again?"

"It's not a question of whether to loosen or not. Can you not wear gloves because I will loosen them? It's really cold in such a cold weather." Nibel covered Benoit's hand.

"I thought you were angry."

"Why am I angry?"

"That's right, let me bring up your past."

Nibel sighed and groped backwards with one hand free.Benoit took advantage of the situation and dropped his other hand, stuffing it into Nibel's hand.Now he seemed to put his arms around Nibel from behind, and he fell on top of him.

"Stop making trouble, it's shameless for people to see." Nibel's tone was as soft as a grass sprout that just emerged.He has never been serious, and he never thought that he would say such a thing one day.

He really didn't want others to see Benoit like this.Benoit is always indifferent and alienated in front of others, like a statue of a god.At this time, Benoit is so lively and enthusiastic, although he can't see it, he can imagine it.He could imagine what kind of arc would those full lips draw, and what kind of crescent moon would those beautifully shaped eyes bend into.

If he can't see it, no one else can see it either.Even if he can see it, others are not allowed to see it.Nibel knew it was unreasonable to think so, but he thought it was good.Anyway, Benoit wouldn't say anything, and Benoit always condoned his own unreasonableness.

"No one will see it. There is no one here. Besides, so what, who doesn't have a friend?"

"friend?"

"Isn't it? You said when we met for the third time that we are friends—friends!" Nibel felt the arms holding him tighten a little.

I thought we'd have something else to do.Nibel wanted to say that, but the words that finally came out of his mouth were quite different: "Well, friend."

Benoit let go, stood up, and continued to push him forward.

The ice and snow on the ground have almost melted, revealing the dark brown land, dotted with a little bud here and there.The two walked very slowly, stopping and going, like a small boat in the water, floating slowly.

The sun was getting higher and higher, Nibel felt the wheelchair stopped, and Benoit said, "Here we are."

It was not so cold now, and he took off his bearskin gloves and put them on his lap.Benoit let go of the wheelchair and helped Nibel stand up.

"Snowdrops are a little short, you have to squat down to touch them. They've finally opened and I don't want to just pick them off."

The two squatted down slowly, and when they stood up, the bearskin gloves fell to the ground, and Benoit glanced at them and didn't pick them up.

"The glove fell off."

"I'll pick it up later. You just squat down here first." He led Nibel's hand to stroke the flowers.

"They're white, small, with the center down. These are their leaves, elongated."

Nibel groped slowly, and Benoit picked up the pair of gloves and put his own on the wheelchair seat.The gloves of the two were made together, and the color and material were exactly the same, like two brothers, hugging each other affectionately at this moment.

Nibel just squatted like this, groping forward slowly.Seeing this, Benoit hurried up and grabbed his arm.

"How do you go forward by yourself? I'll support you."

"I want to go ahead and see. Is there a sea of ​​flowers in front of me? I seem to have seen it before, but it's the first time to touch it with my hands."

"It feels very different, doesn't it?" Benoit also squatted, with the cloak spread out behind him, and he turned back to hug the cloak to prevent the delicate flowers that were not too tall from being blown down.

"Indeed. They're much weaker than they look."

"Of course, flowers are like this, and they will fall off when you twist them with your fingers." He opened the way with his hands, trying to avoid the two of them stepping on flowers and plants.He had to hold the cloak, support Nibel, and open the way. He seemed to be in a hurry, and his forehead began to sweat after a while.

"Let's stand up." Nibel patted him.

Benoit was struggling with his cloak, which was crumpled at the hem. "Oh, fine."

"There is a village in front. There are not many people in this village, and most of them make a living from farming. This snowdrop grows on this small hillside, and many people don't know it."

When he said this, his tone was a little sly, and his expression was very childish. "I discovered it. My parents never let me go out when I was young, as if I would fall ill if I was blown by the wind. Life at home was too boring. I ran away from home when I was ten years old."

"Run away from home? You?" Niebel stood beside him, Benoit grabbing his elbow.

"Of course, I didn't expect that. I traveled a long way that day - maybe not very far, but it was a long way for me - to come here. It was summer, there were no snowdrops, and here were blooming The roses are sparse, not as lush as the snowdrops."

"You are really brave."

"It's summer, it's nothing. I just sit here and look around, the mountains in the distance, the flowers around me, and the clouds above my head. Everything I see is fresh and beautiful."

"After all, it's the first time to go out."

"Maybe to ordinary people, these are very common. Every day, farmers rise and work, and women wash vegetables and clothes by the river-oh, there is a river under the mountain-the sun rises and the moon rises, the clouds roll and the clouds clear, The spring breeze and autumn rain are all too ordinary. But for me, I can only see such scenes in books. Occasionally, I look out of the window of my room, and everything is packed in that small frame, like a painting. Murals. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm a picture hanging on the wall. Maybe it's a bit boring to you."

Nibel's arm moved in his hand, and he said softly: "No," Nibel turned his head, his eyes were dull but still sparkling: "I've never seen such a scene before."

"You can't see anything."

"No," Nibel laughed, "I see everything. I used to see with my eyes, but today I smell with my nose, hear with my ears, and touch with my hands. I see no less than you. I even dare to say that I see Got more than you."

Benoit let go of Nibel's arm: "For me at that time, these landscapes belonged to me alone. They may belong to many people, the farmer who cuts the straw, the peasant woman who hangs clothes, and this mountain. This river, this land. But at that moment, they belonged to me, and they came out of a small box and came to me."

"No," Nibel grabbed Benoit's hand: "The peasants only own the straw in their hands, the peasant women only own the few clothes, and the mountains and rivers only own flowers, grass, fish and birds. And only you have witnessed all the scenery here, here They are yours from the beginning to the end, from the moment you see them."

"According to you, what I see belongs to me?"

Nibel nodded.

"Then I see you now, you belong to me too?"

Nibel smiled happily, and Benoit stared at his naughty little canine.

"Yes. I belong to you too. At this moment, I am yours, and much more than this moment."

Benoit felt dizzy.He felt that Nibel was standing in front of him, but only the little canine was in his sight.That tooth seemed to emit a soft light, and his soul was slowly awakening in this holy light, and something was burning deep inside him.

He swallowed, feeling that his heart had softened into a piece of plasticine, and each word of the other party had a finger mark on it.

There was a distant yelling sound in his ears, it was the farmers singing, his legs were a little weak, and he felt that the singing was very loud, but there was a silence in his heart.

Nibel stood there without saying a word, with a smile on his lips.