Battle of the Rhine

Michael had never expected Quincy's reaction. He thought a murder would happen in this room.But it’s about the same, if he can’t explain Kanna’s identity clearly, he’s sure that Quinnessy will kill him, and make sausages from the belt and bones to feed the dogs. Yes, with the frugality of the Germans, his internal organs are probably worth will be used "reasonably".

"I'm sorry," Michael hastily apologized before explaining, "Kana—"

His words were interrupted by a huge sneeze, a sneeze, another sneeze, a damn cold, sneeze after sneeze, tears and snot.He looked so ugly, Michael fumbled for a few pieces of toilet paper to wipe his nose, "Kana is—"

While he was busy saving his nose, Quincy got another few sheets of paper.He finished the letter quickly, and Michael watched him, Quincy shivering slightly through the blur caused by his tears. "I——don't—know," but whenever he was angry or agitated, his speech speed would become very slow, "you—actually—"

"Kana is you," Michael said, "it's you! Sorry, I—"

He carried it down straight, face to the floor.Vertigo engulfed him, and Michael's last memory was gasping for air with his mouth open into a crack in the floorboards.There was a strange circular spot on the floor, probably from a moth.The edge of the spot was curved, like some kind of ripple, and he stared at the ripple——

Michael fell into the sea...heaving and falling in the gentle waves.The silver moonlight shines on the sea, and the waves are rippling, hitting the black reefs on the shore, breaking into snow-white foam... the piano, he sat by the rose bushes in summer, listening to the wonderful music, the piece has a long and awkward name, "Piano Sonata in C-sharp Minor"...

After returning to the United States, he tried to buy a record of the tune.An old man in a vest told him that this piece was also called "Moonlight Sonata".He bought the record, and the tune that came out was his favorite.But he could not hear the sea, nor the moonlight.The notes are like dry letters, weakly forming monotonous words and sentences.Impossible, it says on the record package, this is the most perfect version played by the famous pianist...

It's not as good as the one he's heard, nowhere else can compare.There is the sea, the moonlight, and everything he wants in that song.The moon sinks slowly, and there seems to be a pot of boiling gold under the sea level.The moon receded, and the sky gradually faded to darkness.The sun emerged from the sea, its light bright and pure—and soon, the sun rose to the middle of the sky, and its light washed the whole world.

Michael is chasing the sun, he is drifting in the sea, and the ocean current takes him far away.He struggled to reach out to the sun, trying to catch a ray of golden light. "Wait for me," he cried anxiously, "Wait for me!"

"It's too late," said a voice, "It's too late, let it go."

"No," Michael waved his hands vigorously, "I want to find him and tell him, I—"

"You had many opportunities," said the voice, "but you passed them up."

"I'm a fool." Hai Bo suddenly stirred up, Michael's face was wet, and the sea was salty and astringent, "Please give me one last chance! Please, I've already told him, I love him... I I haven't heard his answer yet..."

The wind suddenly picked up, and Michael couldn't open his eyes.The sea roared loudly, and he was about to be drowned.He raised his head in despair and stared at the sky.He could not see the sun, only white light filled the dome.

Orange spots of light danced on the eyelids, and Michael felt his feet touch the ground... He woke up. Although the eyelids were sore and heavy like glue, he finally opened his eyes. The pale ceiling was spotless. Immediately, the hearing returned To his ears, the ticking instrument mixed with the horrible electrical sound, one of the sounds he hated the most.

Michael let out a long sigh.

Come to think of it, that Wednesday was as long as D-day.He was beaten twice by the Frenchman, and he had to endure the humiliation that he was helpless with a bad cold.Then Quincy arrives, knocking on the door of the recently parted close friend, who has come all the way from Munich to ascertain whether he has committed the gruesome murder.This time there was almost no argument, and they even sat down and had soup.And then Quinnessy found the letter, Mary's reply, which inevitably referred to Karna—the code name he had given Quinnessy to lie about.Karna!For God's sake, how could he come up with such a stupid idea...

"Jesus," Michael moved his lips, "uh—"

His two vague movements attracted the nurse.A girl with bright gray eyes leaned over and lifted his eyelids to examine.Immediately, the doctors arrived, and they muttered to assess Michael's condition.Michael couldn't understand a word of the medical term.

A nurse leaves, and a moment later, as the doctor applies something to Michael's chest, Quincy arrives.He looked terribly anxious, and the first reaction of Michael's sluggish brain: his college student seemed terrified.

"Morning, good morning—"

Michael lifted a finger and shook it.The gesture must not have been very humorous, because instead of smiling, Quincy took a half step back, and then he started talking to the doctor—the oldest one—quickly, gesticulating violently with his hands.German, it sounds like a typewriter when it's spoken fast, it can also be said to be a Thompson submachine gun, da da da, ta da da——

The doctor shook his head for a while, and nodded for a while.Finally, the doctors and nurses left, and Quincy walked over tremblingly. Michael noticed that the usually clean college student had lost his usual tidiness, but this did not detract from his handsomeness. Quincy He still looks like a character in a classical oil painting, except that the eye circles are black and there are some faint stubbles on his chin.

"Hi," said Michael. "Morning."

"It's afternoon," Quincy said, folding his arms. "Twelve past three."

Michael watched him, trying to get his fingers out from under the covers.Quincy grabbed the hand. His hand was cold and the palm was damp. "How did your father die? Is it also because of high blood pressure?"

"Car accident." Michael smiled, "He went to sell cattle..."

Quincy slacked off just for that one word. "I thought you had a family disease," he said, staring at the ceiling, crossing his chest with the other hand, "Thank God..." Then he lowered his head, a stream of tears fell down his chin, Sleeve wiped there.

"I'm sorry," Michael said, his throat burning. "I'm really sorry."

The second stream of tears rolled down his cheeks, and it didn't take long for Quincy to feel soaked in water, damp and miserable.He kept wiping his face with his sleeve, putting himself in an unprecedented embarrassment. "You're an idiot," he said, choking up. "Idiot, Michael Fiennes, I've never seen you, you're like this...so bad, so hateful, such...idiot..."

"Yes." Michael responded, "So, sorry."

"I called Gabriel and he said he would cover your medical bills," Quinnessy said. "Oh my God, he said he didn't expect you to be so sick. He suggested that I check your family medical history. After all you said your father died at the age of 40... that's horrible..."

It didn't have much to do with old Mike, Michael wanted to say, it didn't matter, his high blood pressure was just an accident.But he couldn't speak, and lay motionless, with some sort of instrument on his body.He still has to explain Karna's ins and outs and restructure his speech to clearly express his love for the college students.Yes, this is the last chance, he must explain thoroughly——

"The doctor says you're fine," said Quincy, wiping his chin, "but be careful. I guess I can't forgive you, Mike, but you'll have to stay for Christmas. You can keep renting my house." , second floor, fifteen marks a month. I will draw up a new agreement..."

Michael nodded.It's all up to you, he said, maybe it came out, maybe it didn't.Tiredness made him close his eyelids.He listened to Quincy's voice, held hands, and fell asleep peacefully.