Chen Ying unconsciously followed the two old men, wanting to hear what they said next. They went through all the exhibitions in order, wrote visitors' comments on the message board, and signed their names together. After they left, Chen Ying walked over to see, it was two sentences in German, and she could barely guess the meaning:

"We are our own demons, driving everyone out of heaven."

She weighed those two sentences repeatedly, thought about them, and did not write a word, but signed her name on the list of visitors. A European tour group squeezed into the cramped museum, and several people felt a little cramped when they saw Chen Ying pointing, and pushed open the door and walked out into the street. The cold wind has stopped howling, and the streets look particularly depressed after the rain. The bare black trunks accentuate the loneliness of the houses on the shore. Flocks of seagulls on the mossy shore walls paced back and forth with their heads held high, looking in the water and passers-by. Several painters on the other side of the canal are missing, replaced by two fishing enthusiasts in scarlet down jackets.

Chen Ying stood on a small bridge and looked down at her shadow reflected in the water. She remembered a sentence she had seen in the movie before:

"Man only sees what he wants to see, and only believes what he wants to believe."

She has changed today, and she is no longer afraid that she will not be able to go where she wants to go without accompanying her, and she is no longer worried that she will not be able to live alone. Aside from the occasional hunger, she was no longer worried. She carefully swiped her credit card, kept a record of every purchase, and returned to the hotel in the evening to complete the day's records in front of the computer. She looked up the train schedule for the next day. She wanted to go to the Czech Republic, the landlocked Central and Eastern European country, to see the place where "The Good Soldier Shuaik" could be made, to see the mysterious Prague Square Astronomical Clock, to see Milan Kundera's hometown. This is the benefit of not having to plan your trip in advance, and you can change your plans at any time as needed, so you can adjust the route to the direction you want most.

She bought her ticket online and simply sorted out the clothes hanging in the bathroom. When she checked her mailbox, she received a letter of apology from Qin Hong, who frankly admitted that he had not controlled his emotions that day and begged for her forgiveness. There was no more joyous news, and she hardly thought of immediately replying to him, along with the thoughts of the past few days. She looked at her smile reflected on the glass and felt the whole room warm up in the yellow light. The cold wind outside the window blew again, and the floor-to-ceiling windows crackled.

Early the next morning, Chen Ying had breakfast at the restaurant, and after handing over the room card, she left her luggage at the front desk. It's too early to get to the train station, and Amsterdam is covered in frost in the early morning. She walked down the road to Anne Frank's House and turned into the West Chapel. Amsterdam is predominantly Protestant to the north and Catholic to the south. It is a church named after a location, not a saint, and a Protestant church. A statue of Anne stands just outside the church. The people who came to worship had not yet arrived, and the cemetery outside the church was quiet, and the workers in charge of cleaning carefully cleaned every step. It is home to the tallest bell tower in the Dutch capital, where the remains of the famous painter Rembrandt were buried.

Chen Ying pushed open the door and entered, the interior of the hall was painted clean off-white, the silver pipe organ hung high in the middle of the walls on both sides, the colorful windows depicted Bible stories, the intricately crafted golden chandelier hung from the center of the roof, and the floor was covered with a red carpet, which was spotless. She walked along the edge as usual, until she reached the statue of the Virgin with layers of candlesticks in the corner of the side door. Covered in gold leaf, the icon looked down with a solemn expression, revealing a loving and sad look.

"I'm not a believer." Chen Ying thought in her heart and lit a short white candle next to her and put it on the candlestick, "But I hope you can solve the doubts in my heart." ”

She watched the statue pose sympathetically and comfortably, and the loneliness in her heart shone brighter like a candle flickering in the darkness. Light shines through the stained glass into the room, spreading colorful stories on the walls of the hall. She sat down in the last row of uncushioned dark wooden chairs, her elbows propped up on the backs of the chairs in front of her, her forehead resting between her folded hands. She sat quietly like this with her eyes closed for a while, until someone pushed the door in and interrupted her meditation, and the cold wind made her shiver. The woman who had just swept the steps stood in the doorway with a broom and smiled at her with a flushed face. Chen Ying stood up with her bag on her back and walked towards the door.

It's snowing.

Amsterdam is flying with white snowflakes, bicycles parked by the bridge are dyed white, and boats on the river are sprinkled with icing. Snow drifts everywhere, adding a bit of fantasy to this ancient city. Chen Ying tightened the scarf around her neck and walked into the wind and snow with her head down. The road is sparsely populated, and there are almost no cyclists.

She returned to the hotel to pick up her luggage and dragged her suitcase towards the train station. The Church of St. Nicholas is just opposite the station. Unlike Westminster Abbey in London and the Sacré-Coeur in Brussels, this church is a magnificent blend of Baroque vaults and Neo-Renaissance style. The high ceilings of the bell towers on both sides are submerged in the wind and snow, and the circular window in the middle is like an eye to see everything. The sound of the organ came out of the open window, mingled with the snowflakes, and dissipated without a trace when the wind blew.

While the train was waiting to depart, Chen Ying was still looking at the church in the wind and snow from a distance through the window. It attracts her gaze like a magnet, and it looks sacred and solemn surrounded by the surrounding houses.

"I think you like that church a lot." A person next to her said to her in English, "You've never let it out of sight since you got in the car." ”

She looked back and was surprised to see that the tall and thin old man she had met during her visit to the Anne Frank House had somehow been sitting next to her, and another stocky old man was on his other side.

"yes, I don't understand why — I didn't actually go to that church at all." She replied.

"Isn't that the girl you met yesterday?" The fat old man said in German, "You're from China?" ”