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In calm days, boredom is perhaps the number one killer of human beings. When Yuan Xian sneaked and her sister went home to work, Zhong Li was left in the empty room.

Although Yuandun'er can help Zhong Li with some housework, play some simple games, and make some strange noises and strange movements to make Zhong Li happy, the machine is still a machine after all. Even if there is the control of artificial intelligence, it can make some logical thinking, but this kind of thinking, reaction and feedback is still cold, and the temperature given to Zhong Li is even worse than lying quietly in the sneak warehouse through the huge hatch Yuan Xian's body wrapped in a crimson dress.

Yuan Xian's body is well-proportioned and slender: a sharp and sleek jaw peeking out of the mask, a slender and slender neck, streamlined trapezius muscles protruding from both sides of the neck, a shallow sunken clavicle fossa, straight and rounded shoulders, slender but slightly fatty arms, thin and slender hands, girlish slightly bulging breasts, two types of streamlined tightening, a smooth abdomen, slightly tightened thighs with a certain sense of flesh and fish-drifted slender calves......

Zhong Li had a lot of opportunities to take a closer look at Yuan Xian's body, and he did so. Each time, he would stand quietly by the sneak warehouse, staring at Yuan Xian's body for five to ten minutes. Sometimes he observes a part of her body, comparing it to the game by impression, or simply looking at the anatomy with appreciation.

Sometimes he thinks about something else, such as when she wakes up, will he hand him his hand and ask him to help her up. At that moment, what was the touch of her hand. Will it be firmly grasped, or will it be weak due to long-term stealth, or will it be a little cold. What was the first thing she said when she woke up, would she call her name if she wasn't in the room, would she wish she could see herself as soon as she woke up, or would she wake up and say she was hungry and wanted to eat.

One day, two days, and on the third day, he suddenly found that his feelings were pouring into this small space. Yuan Xian's body, which was lying quietly in the sneaking warehouse, because of his observations, thoughts and even fantasies, began to be understood only by himself, or when Yuan Xian woke up, he told Yuan Xian that it became a kind of artwork that two people understood together.

It's not that her body is a work of art, or that appreciating her body is appreciating art. Rather, in this limited space, in a specific time, he has incorporated a lot of thoughts and emotions, if Yuan Xian does not wake up and he continues to observe, these thoughts and emotions will continue to ferment in this specific space and in his brain, and become something that will become a special feeling when he thinks about it in the future, and this feeling is currently only understood by him. Or in the future, whether he dictates or anything, and shares it with Yuan Xian, Yuan Xian will have a chance to understand this feeling, or get a new feeling. This particular reaction, the unique experience obtained, made this event begin to become a work of art.

At first, he felt that this feeling must be recorded, so that when he talked to Yuan Xian, or when Yuan Xian thought that he was a little perverted, he could take it out and explain his feelings to her. However, when he wanted to write, he suddenly found that in fact, this feeling was not more of a logical thinking, but a momentary feeling, and an indescribable subconscious left to himself.

These things may be recorded in paintings, but he can't paint the old classical realistic oil paintings, and they are not enough to express them. The new school of painting in front of us is too maverick and abstract. So he found a painting by Matisse, and it happened that he had one on his shelf, a man who had been nearly 200 years old, who explained many ways to express feelings with color.

In traditional painting, the composition of color includes light and shade, purity, warmth and coldness, etc., but in Matisse's view, the simpler the color, the more expressive, and the book states that he believes that "color is not a matter of quantity, but of choice". Just like his work "Dance" next to it, the five red-skinned dancers in the picture dance on all fours, and the primitive human desire and enthusiasm for life leap onto the page. The green lawn decorates the earth, which seems to be a metaphor for the strong vitality. The dark blue in the background symbolizes the blue sky of the Mediterranean, conveying a sense of life and health. The author uses such a work to illustrate that there are not many colors, but to be able to express inner emotions is to use them properly, and simple colors contain rich emotions.

So Zhong Li quietly thought about how to create this painting, more precisely how to use his own colors. He didn't rush to write, because when the composition and color of Matisse's style painting were thought about, the painting was more than half completed. Although Yuan Xian was lying in the stealth cabin, he could not draw the stealth cabin, or even draw Yuan Xian's body to scale. Although she wears crimson clothes, he can also use a hint of red on the picture.

The easel and white canvas of ash stood quietly opposite Yuan Xian, but Zhong Li continued to live a boring life. When the sun rises, I get up from my bed, go to the verandah and laze deeply, and look at the courtyard, slowly dyed with autumn flowers and plants. Then I read the book and looked for a different feeling from the Chinese characters in the book. Or walk behind the residential area and take in the view of the wide lake with autumn light.

He thought back to seven years ago, seven years ago to be exact, when the two met in the snow and fought to the death. and then joined Shuoguo by himself, and the two of them Pingyouzhou, Xuzhou, and Yongzhou. Or in the mansion of Jicheng in Youzhou, dancing with swords and swords, and chanting poems with wine. This situation has been going through in his mind over and over again, and he has also selected screenings over and over again, and the content of the picture has been streamlined little by little. But when he saw a beautiful dress, a beautiful scene, or even a still autumn leaf, he added it to the picture.

The relationship between him and Yuan Xian is progressing very slowly, although the two have long understood how the other party sees themselves in their hearts, but the formal confession has not been made, and there is no need to do it with the passage of the world. However, perhaps because there is no formal confession, the time when the two are together, although they will talk about their children's private affairs, they are like gentlemen's friends. Zhong Li rarely hugged Yuan Qian, and Yuan Xian almost never lied to Zhong Li. Except for words, letters, and objects, it seems that feelings have never been expressed more.

So I thought that he was lying on the bed, and the content of the painting was undecided. Although it originated from observing a body, there are so many emotions and too many wishes that he wants to add to it that it has been difficult to decide on his picture.

When he was in a daze, he suddenly had an agitation, and it turned out that a blurry picture appeared in his mind when he was about to fall asleep. Although it was only a moment, at this time he only remembered that Yuan Xian's body in the picture was covered with a fiery red color, and the rest were all pale to gray. He regretted waking up the first time he saw the picture and didn't pay much attention to the details. But in the next second, he immediately understood that there was no need for any details at all, and that only fiery red in that work was enough.

Maybe this flaming red can explain his feelings for Yuan Xian, not limited to those experiences, not coveting her face or body, but a kind of strong emotion exuded by Yuan Xian herself, which ignited him together.

He walked back to his original bedroom, looking at Yuan Xian, who was only breathing slowly and undulating under a red dress, and suddenly a strong sense of excitement rose from his heart and filled his whole body. He realized that he didn't need any paintings to express his feelings for her, and even if there were, they were only objects used to please her, and that kind of thing was by no means satisfied by this kind of painting that strongly expressed his feelings.

He packed up the easel, canvas, and prepared paints back to the warehouse, and returned to Yuan Xian's side to watch her quietly. When he imagined that he might be the man of the girl in front of him, the excitement crept up again.

The overture to the first chapter of Bach's solo cello No. 1 in G major suddenly sounded in his head, and he didn't know why it was this piece, and he didn't even know if it was suitable for his mood of indulging in love. But he felt that there seemed to be a non-melodic vitality in this song, which was composed of beautiful notes, just as his throbbing and expectant mood seemed to condense so many experiences and so many wishes for him.

He paced small steps to the rhythm of the music, his eyes jumping back and forth between the night and Yuan Xian's body. As the music entered the last few bars, his excitement gradually subsided. He may repeat the song in his head again, or repeat only a few nice bars, but he knows it's time to say goodbye today. He watched and said "good night" before letting the lights go out behind his steps.

The fire was still burning warmly, though he walked into the second bedroom next to him and got into the comfort of his bed. He felt that probably every teenager should be like himself, with such a warm expectation for the first relationship, although he didn't know what it would bring him in the end.

On the morning of September 26, Zhong Li opened his eyes and saw a touch of red in front of him. He thought he had brought the painting to his dream again, but he didn't want to wake up a little and see a red outfit, then fair skin, slightly raised corners of his mouth, and eyes with a calm smile.

"When did you come back?" Because he had just woken up, Zhong Li's voice was a little dry. But he didn't care about that, but when he remembered the events of last night after saying it, he regretted that the first sentence he said was not "you are so beautiful" or "I love you".

"It's about seven o'clock." Yuan Xian leaned forward, a smile was very close to Zhong Li, and he could even feel her breathing slightly. Judging from her sitting posture, she probably also looked at Zhong Li in front of the bed for a long time.

Zhong Li looked at the wall clock, the hour hand is eight, and the minute hand is five. "Shall I get you something to eat?"

The corners of Yuan Xian's mouth raised slightly. "No need, Yuandun made it for me." What is rare in her pair of Danfeng eyes is not warm, but a spring-like feeling. "But I'll wait for you."

Zhong Li smiled back with a slightly apologetic smile. "Then you should call me."

The words "I love you" once again passed through Zhong Li's tongue. He took the hand handed by Yuan Xian and sat up, it turned out that her hand was dry, thin and soft.

"Go wash up first, don't be in a hurry to eat."

"Yes, yes." Zhong Li staggered out of the bedroom.

The autumn sun shines through the canopy of the washed trees in front of the door, and the wood floor is shimmering like a shimmering gold, and the temperature and humidity are just right for the soft clothes to sway naturally on the skin.

The three words "I love you", on such a day, there are still many opportunities to say and pass by.