"In this world, the only thing that has ever reached any corner is water and wind. They are pervasive and perceptive; No matter how high the walls are, they can't stop them from being free. I hope that one day, I will not have to follow the rules, not be afraid of ridicule, dig deep into the courage buried in my chest, and no longer have to deceive myself. He got up and strode to the balcony. For a moment, Chen Ying was almost worried that he was going to make a dangerous move. But he stopped, and stood against the railing, like a bronze statue in the square. Chen Ying slowly walked up to him, holding her hands on the edge of the railing.

"Can you see the sea in Copenhagen?" He asked.

"Yes."

"That's nice." He sighed, "Whether it's a raging sea, a calm sea, a cloudy sea, or a clear sea, it always makes people feel open. It's an amazing power. ”

"The wind at sea is very strong, and it will blow off your hat and cause you to chase you for a long distance." Chen Ying said with a smile.

"I'd rather chase it and come back with my hat on and continue to blow the wind." He also smiled, "Do you want to do a dance?" ”

"I ...... No. She subconsciously dodged it.

"I'm also a beginner." He walked into his room and searched the internet for waltzes, "I'll take you to dance." ”

She followed him into the house and put her hand in his. He began to walk slowly with her, forgiving her for occasionally stepping on his feet. She chuckled coyly and tried to shrink into her seat at the table. He stood in the middle of the road every time, not letting her back down. She had no choice but to follow him back to where she was and continue dancing to the rest of the melody. He carefully pulled her to walk slowly, following the melody as much as he could. The candlelight reflected the dancer's figure on the wall, long or short, rapid or slow with the music, and at the end of the dance, he brought her back to the starting position.

"What a good dance." She praised him in German.

"You've switched to German, too?" He asked in English in surprise.

"Didn't you say that you could be immersed in another language?" She asked rhetorically.

He lowered his head and smiled. She laughed along. The pleasant atmosphere in the room flowed down the curtains onto the balcony.

"I don't know how you did it." He took off his glasses and wiped the corners of his eyes, "I can always say it in my heart." He picked up the edge of his shirt and wiped his glasses, and looked at her with a smirk when he put them on.

"Would you like to have a drink?" She hurried to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of Coke that had been there last night. Wang Yi stood still and did not move. The charred wick of the candle lay in the melted white candle oil, still trying to shimmer, and the upper part of the yellow flame danced slightly with the change of airflow.

"I have to go back - I can't stay here any longer." He seemed to be talking to himself, and he seemed to say to Chen Ying, "I'm tired, and there are still a lot of things to pack." He grabbed the drink handed by Chen Ying, and the water droplets condensed on the plastic bottle dripped down his fingertips. He took out a paper towel and wiped it, throwing it into a clump and throwing it into the food scraps.

Chen Ying stood up and looked for the key to open the door for him.

"No need." He said as he walked to the balcony. With a stretch of his hand, he jumped from this side to the balcony corresponding to room 207. He leaned against the balcony over there, Chen Ying couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, and vaguely felt that he had been looking this way.

"Thank you for your hospitality." He said loudly.

"I'm the one who needs to be thanked." She silently beckoned to him. She watched from the balcony as he walked into the house and turned on the ceiling light. His tall figure was projected on the curtains, constantly moving.

She returned to the house, extinguished the candle heads, cleaned the remaining cups and dishes on the table, and repeatedly brushed the plates with the enamel off the sides with the precipitated detergent. She puts the rest of the trash into a plastic bag under the sink and carefully tightens the plastic string on the mouth of the bag when it is full. She cleaned it all up and sat down at the desk near the window. There was an old desk lamp on the desk, wiped clean, and with a slight twist of the switch on the tray, the room was filled with yellow light.

She crouched on the stage and began to write postcards. As always, I wrote as densely as I could, writing as much as I could about the scenes I saw that day, and I didn't stop until the last line was filled in. She put the written postcards in the window and dried them one by one, waiting to find the post office the next day and send them together.

After confirming for the last time that there was no problem with the lock on the door of the room, Chen Ying closed the balcony door, drew the curtains and prepared to rest. Her hand was accidentally cut by a knife while cooking just now, and then it got wet, and now it hurts faintly. She walked over to the desk and turned on the lamp, then the light checked the wound, and she carefully dried the water near the wound with clean toilet paper to avoid infection. As she squeezed out the little liquid left in the wound, there was a sudden clattering sound from the outer window. She turned off the lights vigilantly, grabbed her phone and stared at the window in the darkness with her eyes wide open. By the moonlight, she saw a tall figure standing outside the window. She held her breath and tried not to make a sound. The shadow remained silently on the balcony for a moment, leaping along the edge of the balcony and disappearing in the direction of Balcony 207.