fictional spring

Qingzhi, who made an agreement with me that day, took the initiative to tell his father that he hoped to go to the gymnasium to practice.

This was the first time he had a conversation with his father. Although I didn't see them face to face at that time, I can also imagine Qingzhi's blunt and unnatural expression when facing his father from the usual Qingzhi performance. appearance.

However, my father's expression when he mentioned Qingzhi in front of me made me doubt my own judgment.

Is Qingzhi's behavior in front of his father really as I thought?

It depends on how his father evaluates him.

He told me that Qingzhi was a very well-behaved and sensible child, but he was unable to communicate with other people because of the stimulation of the things that happened before. Fortunately, with my concern, he was able to gradually get out of that past , accept the current life.

"Although Qingzhi cannot be exposed to the sun due to physical reasons, he is practicing swordsmanship in the gymnasium. As long as he goes out before the sun rises every day and comes back after the sun goes down, it will have no effect."

I listened to my father's somewhat gratifying words with astonishment, and Qingzhi's decision when he didn't mention it to me at all, and felt very incredible about such a change.

Until my father reached out and touched my head, with a smile on his face, he said to me: "Muyue really takes good care of my brother."

I suddenly understood that at such a time, it would be the best answer for me not to say anything.

But to be honest, at first, my father only thought that Qingzhi had the idea of ​​going to the gymnasium on a whim after seeing Brother Chenzang, so he made such a request to him.

——Because of my health, I have to go out early and return late every day. I guess I will give up in a few days.

My father had this idea in mind, and was always ready to appease Qingzhi after he was frustrated, and even told me in advance about it, asking me to comfort Qingzhi more at that time.

However, after that, Qingzhi really went to the gym every day, and never slack off for half a day.

Even the father couldn't help but be moved by his firmness.

When he finally had the opportunity to ask Qingzhi why he insisted on going to the dojo to practice, the boy with an immature face replied in a serious tone: "Because I promised Mutsuki, I will protect her in the future."

Although he was a few years younger than me, this child never called my sister, but called me by my name.

I think this kind of thing doesn't matter anyway, and my father will not force him, so I let him go.

But until Qingzhi said this sentence, his father's view of him seemed to have changed slightly.

Although I didn't take the initiative to tell my father about this, I didn't think there was any need to hide it, so when my father came to ask me, I nodded, "Indeed."

His expression seemed to be a little hesitant, as if he had thought of something at that moment, but he quickly dispelled this idea himself, and just sighed that the relationship between us is really good.

But I don't think so.

It is true that Qingzhi seems to be the closest person in the entire Yuan family to me, but every time I look at the expression he inadvertently shows when he looks at me, I feel that he seems to have too many things to tell me.

This feeling became especially evident after he went to the gymnasium to practice—the communication between us seemed to be less and less.

"Qingzhi," I called him after dinner one day, just like I invited him for the first time that day, I asked, "Would you like to go for a walk in the yard with me?"

He glanced at me, didn't say a word - and didn't leave.

That is a promise.

It is deep winter now, and the coldness that belongs to this season is coming wrapped in the cold wind, and you can feel the freezing temperature when you step on the verandah.

Usually, there is no warmth in his body, but at this time, he feels extraordinarily cold - even like some kind of creature whose blood flow is terribly slow.

We didn't go down to the yard, but just stood on the verandah, looking at each other's cheeks that were stained orange under the light.

"Is the gym fun?" I asked him.

Qingzhi was silent for a while, as if he was thinking about how to answer me, after a while, he said: "It's okay."

I don't know how his sword skills are, but looking at the boy's thin figure, I guess this kind of thing may be difficult for him.

Perhaps seeing what I was thinking, Qing Zhi frowned, and said to me directly and clearly: "Don't worry about unnecessary things."

What he called "unnecessary worry" was worry about whether his body could handle the activity.

It was only later that I learned from my father that the disciples of the gymnasium all admire Qingzhi—although he is still young, his swordsmanship is already very good.

He's a very talented kid.

But I didn't know this at this time, so I still didn't feel relieved, and I couldn't help but reached out and touched his head.

I said to him: "Qingzhi actually doesn't need to push himself too hard. If you can't hold on anymore, you can come and tell me at any time."

After I finished speaking, he immediately replied: "No."

Not only that, but he also reached out and took my palm, seeming a little displeased: "Don't treat me like a child."

——But he is still a child.

I really wanted to say that, but seeing his serious expression, I restrained my joking thoughts and nodded.

Swallowing back the other words I wanted to say, I smiled and said, "Then rest early, Qingzhi."

A few days after that, I learned about Qingzhi's performance in the gym from my father.

"To be honest, after Zuo Ma told me this situation, I was also surprised for a while. After all, Qingzhi looks thinner. I thought he was just going to exercise. I didn't expect to have such a talent."

While my father was admiring, he also looked at me: "Your mother was very good at swordsmanship when she was young."

I vaguely remember that when my mother was still alive, she asked me if I wanted to learn swordsmanship.

——"Muzuki will definitely like it very much. After all, I am already interested in these at your age."

——"Why do you want to learn? Because I want to protect the people I care about, just like I want to protect Mutsuki..."

I don't quite remember her face anymore, I only remember that before she passed away, Ling Mian held my hand and said apologetic words to me when she was sick.

Can no longer accompany me to grow up, and can no longer teach me anything.

"Muzuki..."

The voice of my father calling me and the voice of my mother in the memory overlapped, pulling my thoughts back to reality, and I blinked, "What's wrong?"

Father looked hesitant to speak.

"No, nothing."

After all, he didn't say anything to me.

It's just that I can read my father's thoughts from his expression, from those hesitating to speak.

For my guilt, for my expectation, if my mother is still alive, if my body has not deteriorated, then I may now be like my mother when she was young, holding a wooden knife and repeating the exercises.

It's just that I'm also very clear-I don't really have any talent in this area.

However, when I mentioned this matter in front of Qingzhi, he darkened his eyes, as if he was thinking about remembering something again.

"No." He denied, "You've been... fine."

His expression was so complicated that I froze for a moment, wondering what exactly he was thinking.

I can only say to him: "I heard from my father that Qingzhi is very talented in swordsmanship, really amazing."

It was clearly a compliment, but his straightforward expression became gloomy, and he lowered his head: "It's nothing serious."

"Don't say that, maybe Qingzhi still feels that he needs to work hard, but it's already very good for me," I said to him, "Look, I can't do it at all."

After I finished speaking, his body seemed to tense a lot, and he raised his face to look at me after a while, as if he wanted to confirm something: "Do you want to practice swordsmanship?"

I may have understood his thinking.

Because I feel like I have something that I don't have, and I wonder if I care about that.

"No," I said to him, "It's fine for such insignificant things, because talent is something that is destined at birth, and paying too much attention to it will only increase troubles, so there is absolutely no need for Qingzhi to think so much."

I held those cold hands, but I couldn't feel the roughness from them.

Mingming practiced for a long time, and heard from his father that the people in the gym said that Qingzhi practiced for a long time every day—even so, his fingers were still soft and white, and he could not touch the slightest callus.

I thought of those grotesque monsters in the books I had read.

"Qingzhi," I looked at him, intending to ask him something, but at this moment, white floated around the edge of my vision.

--Snowing.

Fragmented snowflakes slowly fell, and soon melted on the ground.After realizing that I had called him but there was no further words, Qingzhi looked at me with questioning eyes.

I raised my face to look at the sky, turned my face to him and said, "It's snowing..."

"Yeah," the boy followed my line of sight and echoed, "It's snowing."

I was still holding his hand, holding his hand that couldn't be warmed even if I kept covering it, and asked, "Do you feel cold?"

He looked down at our palms, then at my face, and said softly, "No."

Deceiving.

Obviously there has been no temperature.

But the emotion in those eyes could almost be called warmth.

He took off his coat, put it on my shoulders, and closed it again.

We were very close when doing this action, and because of this, I felt more and more the inhuman coolness in him.

At this moment, the boy with black hair and red eyes stared at me and asked, "Do you feel cold?"

I turned my face away and didn't look at him, but looked at the thin snow that had covered the ground at some time.

"not cold."

I say.

"It should be said... very warm."