"Give me the crutches."

"Huh?"

"It's so snowy, I wouldn't have been able to climb up if I hadn't had a wooden cane." The old beggar said angrily.

Sebastian was stunned as he handed her the staff. She smiled meaningfully, and then walked away without a second word.

Immediately, he heard the old beggar's shrill voice ringing out very clearly in the blizzard.

"Take that hailstone, bad boy. Then you'd better go back to the mountains, otherwise you'll be even more unlucky. ”

Sebastian came to the back mountain with the hailstones, and when he came to a certain stream, the vibration in his heart was stronger than ever. That even intensified his heartbeat, violently resonating with his soul.

Sebastian was extremely shocked at this moment—the stream in front of him, with a tiny amount of water, was not frozen in this cold place. The plants around the stream are not affected by the blizzard at all, and they are in full bloom in the spring.

In his memory, this is the only stream in the back mountain that has not frozen. He had studied alchemy for half his life, and if he could not see that this was an omen, then he would be hopelessly stupid. But whose sign is this, and when is it a sign of what happens?

The sight of the reversal of the seasons is not shocking, but Sebasti is relieved and sad, he finds that he has no talent after all, and he cannot find the truth behind this false appearance.

At the same time, the boy has arrived in a whole new world—unaware of himself, of course. When he follows the omen and his own beliefs with the girl, he is doomed to lose everything.

It's a price, it's a compensation, and by doing that, he will have a new life, a real new life. And this is also the story of Aransel, the creator of the sacred stone in alchemy, the Philosopher's Stone.

When the boy first came to this strange world, looking at the smooth ceiling, he seemed to remember something, but at the moment when he was about to ask questions, he followed his sight and saw himself in the mirror, and in that moment, he forgot everything about himself.

But it doesn't matter anymore, because he has followed his destiny, and all that remains is to follow, nothing more. His mind was filled with wisdom, a warm and thick liquid, and gradually, a large number of memories helped him enter a strange world.

He looked at the ceiling again, this time feeling something completely different. Rest. These two words swirled slowly over his head like two stupid eagles.

He thought that there was a sea of stars in the book, so he liked the book very much. That's why I hate books. If he hadn't read a book, he wouldn't have known that the world outside the hospital room was so exciting. It won't be lonely or lonely.

The watch on the wall had stopped turning three years ago, and he was the only one here, and it was eerily quiet. If someone is willing to give him a battery change, the watch should still be able to go. Before he fell asleep, he often thought about the smiling bear on his watch.

I don't know how many people in this world still remember him, maybe just a few, maybe not many, but at least one. Because the nurse pushes a bunch of books into his hospital room every month.

Maybe his dad still remembers him, maybe it's his mother, maybe it's his sister, maybe it's his first girlfriend? Who knows, he is grateful, but not being able to say thank you in person makes him feel a little regretful.

I'm sorry and grateful to you, it's just a person who is just waiting for death, but I've been sending books to relieve my boredom for so many years, I'm sorry and grateful to you, it should be a lot of money, right?

If I am willing to tell me your honorable name, I am willing to give you my small inheritance after my death. He used to lean against the wall, looking at the clock and practicing this passage to himself. The ward is far away from the city, and it is a soundproof room, so I don't have to worry about who will hear it.

Besides, at this point, it doesn't make much difference whether or not you will be arrested as a mentally disturbed person in a psychiatric hospital.

This ward, where he has lived for more than 20 years, is no different from a prison for him.

He was born with paralysis in the lower half of his body, and he was frail and sickly, and at first his family was willing to let him live at home to take care of him, but after a long time, there was no hope of recovery, so he simply put him in a nursing home in the suburbs. I haven't seen him since.

With no friends, no relatives, the sparrows that lingered in the willow trees outside the window were the only animals he could see. The nurse wearing a mask, who brought him three meals a day, was the only person he could see.

Is there any value in living for a person like him? He thought there were some. God took away his health, but he also gave him a good mind. He made a lot of money from it.

Of course, money doesn't mean much to him, he just wants to kill time and try his skills by the way.

Although he didn't tell anyone, he knew that half of his income was taken by his family, and the remaining half was taken by the nurse.

But the nurse didn't take it for nothing, they would buy him the coffee he liked. He didn't complain, he was grateful for it, the nurse could have taken it all, and he couldn't do anything about it.

In addition, he was proficient in geography, politics, and history, and even read books on mathematics, physics, chemistry, ancient alchemy, economics, and philosophy. There are words on the line, and there are no higher requirements.

Of course, what he loves the most is still. No matter how boring the plot is, no matter how clumsy the description, he can watch it fascinated. He doesn't care about the plot, let alone the characters, what he wants is the boundless world. He fantasized about himself running freely on the earth, swimming in the deep sea, and even soaring in the sky.

He wants to wear the clothes he wants, cut his favorite hairstyle, and talk to the girls on the street who are full of youthful energy, just thinking about him has to be excited, even if he is slapped twice, it doesn't matter, he doesn't care if he can succeed, just doing that, it's enough for him.

He wanted to work part-time in a restaurant with a group of friends, use the salary he saved to go to the stadium to watch the ball game, and then go to the cheap tavern to drink until dawn.

He wanted to go on a graduation trip with his classmates, singing reluctantly at night around the campfire with tears in his eyes, looking at the stars and the moon, and telling each other secrets that he had never told in years......

He thought......

Suddenly, a twitch from his chest plunged his brain into a brief void. Here it again is, he thought, and he has frequent heart attacks. With great difficulty, he put on the oxygen mask and reached out and pressed the red button, but the next moment an even more violent suffocation came to him, and he felt his vision blur gradually, and although he tried to open his mouth wide, he couldn't even breathe in a trace of air.

Maybe this time, he won't be able to escape. He watched as the nurses and doctors hurried into the room, smiled with infinite loneliness, but as if relieved, and closed his eyes quietly.