It was evening when he returned from the town to his small home in the middle of nowhere, and before leaving the magnificent manor, Hans finally seized the opportunity to sneak into the back kitchen and touch a few smoked sausages, the plates were removed from the guest and the sweet sauce on the side remained intact. Hans, as always, secretly tucked them into his sleeve, looked up gloomily, and sighed that those noble ladies were so delicate, that they could not satisfy their appetite except for the carefully selected rabbit meat, and that it was really difficult to serve.

A house made of wood, Hans's house is the only two-storey house in the whole village, and above it is a small attic for storing all kinds of miscellaneous things, such as stools with broken legs, bows with strings, broken saddles, and other things that are broken but reluctant to throw away. His father, Sherman, would rush into the attic every night, lock the door so that no one would enter, tinkling and tinkering inside, until midnight yawning sleepily.

That attic was the place Hans wanted to enter most besides Eston Manor, and curiosity had driven him to go in countless times over the past few years, but the thought of Sherman's fierce face when he was angry was mercilessly extinguished like a small flame.

Hans loved the leafy oak tree in front of his door, and it was autumn, and it was full of round acorns, golden and red, which could be plucked in a few days, and brought to the town for some food and clothing for the winter, and he could go to the tavern for a pretentious drink without his father, or go to the alleys to see the dancers.

Sausages hung on the kitchen wall, and Hans changed his clothes and sat on the floor at the base of a tree, carefully wiping his only hunting knife, which Sherman had given him on his birthday last year, and which was said to be the knife of the French commander during the Anglo-French War. He rubbed the back of his knife, his movements were wooden, his eyes were blank, and the afterglow fell lightly on his cheeks, looking a little sad. The events of the day were like a dream, and the scene of peeking through the crack in the door was probably the climax of the dream. Recalling that scene, his mind was very messy: she was so beautiful, where did she live, and when would he see her again?

A teenager's mind is always full of fantasies, and Hans also likes fantasy more than the average teenager, not only daring to think, but also daring to do, as illustrated by the fact that he climbed over the wall and blended into Eston Manor. Unlike his father, who was content to be a hunter and enjoy the calm of the sunrise and sunset, Hans had a restless heart from an early age, and whenever he stood on the top of a high mountain and looked into the distance, he felt that the hazy sea was full of infinite charm.

He was not willing to be a hunter, and he never wanted to be a hunter, catching ten wild boars in the deep mountains and old forests, or galloping on the plains on a horse for a short time, he hoped that he could become a more interesting person, he could travel around the world in a horse-drawn carriage, pick up a knife and fork and cut steak slowly, go to Florence to enjoy a classic opera, and wave to the girls in a slim and well-fitting suit on the banks of the Thames, and smile with his head high.

However, now he can only sharpen this precious knife, chasing the prey all over the mountain, even if he likes Viola and thinks about her, he only dares to watch from afar, and he is so nervous that he can't breathe when he talks to her, he knows that he and she are people of two worlds.

A horse galloped by, rolling up puffs of smoke and dust, and the ripe acorns were crushed by the horse's hooves, and Hans was still in a daze, if he had jumped up and yelled at the man, but now his mind was in his mind, until he heard a loud bark, and he gradually came back to his senses, and saw that the horse had stopped in his yard, and the man riding the horse was none other than his father Sherman.

"You're back, Sherman. ”

Hans habitually greeted his father, pinched the rough cloth and quickly wiped the blade, and then noticed that something was wrong, raised his eyelids, and said in surprise: "Where did you get the horse?"

Sherman was very energetic today, standing at dusk to feed the horse, brushing its black and supple mane back and forth, and smiling heartily: "Haha, do you remember the lame Harrison knight, who came to the house as a guest before, and happened to meet him on the way back, he used this horse in exchange for the deer on my shoulder, and he seemed to suffer a little bit of a loss in this transaction, but anyway, he couldn't ride the horse in the future, so he simply gave me a personal favor." ”

"But what do you want it to do?"

"It will come in handy, now, little devil, stop your hand wiping your hunting knife, lead the horse to the brook behind you to drink some water, and then help me make some bait, and go hunting with me in the mountains to-morrow, and stop lying about having a stomachache." ”

Hans hesitated for a moment, then said, "I don't want to hunt anymore." ”

Sherman was just about to enter the house, and when he heard this, he immediately turned his head and looked unkind: "What did you say?"

"I don't want to hunt anymore. ”

"Heh, I don't care what nerves you're having today, now, do as I say, or you know, I don't mind breaking your legs. ”

Hansten stood up and looked at his father angrily: "Sherman, I don't want to be a hunter anymore. ”

"Nonsense!"

With a roar of rage, Sherman threw the whip to the ground, crossed his hands on his hips and raised his chin full of stubble, and stared at his son, who had always been obedient, very confused.

"Where have you been today?"

"Eston Manor, climb over the wall to get in. Hans told the truth, for his clumsy lies were always seen through by Shermann.

"You're crazy, what are you going to do there?"

"Steal a couple of sausages and hang them on the kitchen wall. ”

Sherman glanced strangely at the kitchen, strode over, and after a while came out with a bread roll sausage, and while munching on it, he said, "You are the son of a hunter, and I am also the son of a hunter, what do you want to do if you are not a hunter?"

"I want to be like the people who attended the banquet at Eston Manor. ”

"Hmph, everyone wants to be a nobleman and be worshipped, boy, what you should do is not to be ambitious here, but to join the army and rush to the battlefield, to fight, to kill, to bleed!

Sherman's words were full of contempt, and Hans looked him in the eye and said angrily, "I'll leave tomorrow." ”

"Stop!"

Sherman grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him forward, easily lifting Hans over.

"Look at yourself, what's the difference between going to the battlefield and being sent to death?"