A year later, Venice.

After finishing the final stroke, the woman placed the brush on the colorful palette. She wiped her hands on a rag and habitually touched the diamond necklace around her neck.

Half a year ago, S came back to her, and he gave her a letter of agreement and a blue satin box.

It turned out that after Leng Yan learned of his illness, he signed an agreement with one of the largest diamond companies in the United States that if he died, his ashes would be polished into diamonds.

When she opened the box and saw the necklace, she cried again, in the past six months, since Bai Ze and Mo Han left one after another, she has never cried again, because she has been lying to herself, Leng Yan is still alive, but looking at the necklace, and thinking that it is cold ashes, she finally can't bear it anymore. The walls she had built in half a year collapsed in an instant.

Every time she touched the necklace, she felt that he was by her side.

She had read a book before.

The book says: After death, although the ashes can be turned into diamonds, because everyone's physique is different, the color of the diamond created is also different, so the owner of the ashes can never know in advance what color the diamond will be.

Brother, your ashes are blue—

Two years later, Venice.

The warm sunlight shuttles through the small gaps, and the large floor-to-ceiling windows soothe the floor of the gallery, filling a qiē emptiness.

The man in a gray robe stopped in front of a painting for a long time, quietly staring at the figure in the frame in front of him.

It was a man's back, the corners of his black coat were raised, and the warm yellow street lamps painted on both sides set off the loneliness of this back, and the mottled silver light under the man's feet made people feel cold, as if they saw how decisive he was.

The painting is signed with a simple "L".

The man called the owner of the gallery to inquire, but the owner refused to disclose any information to him, and said that the painting was not for sale.

The man tried to reach out and touch the painting, but stopped just as he was about to touch it.

How are you?

In the square next to the Grand Canal, doves of peace fluttering their white wings peck at the crumbs on the ground.

The gondoliers sang loudly with gondola pulp. From time to time, a breeze blows, and the lower corners of the white drawing paper tied to the railing of the Grand Canal are rolled up and lowered from time to time.

On the strings on the railing, five or six paintings were tied, some were sketches, some were oil paintings, and some were colored pencils. And the painting is indeed the side face of the same man, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, the cold him, the unseemly affectionate him, and the closed eyes.

Many tourists gathered around, and it turned into a small circle. And in the center of this circle, there is a wooden easel, and sitting in front of the easel is a woman with an oriental face, and her short velvety hair is on her white neck.

She carefully sketched the figure of the little foreign girl sitting next to her, her fingers were slender, and her gesture with a pencil was particularly pleasing to the eye.

A strand of hair slipped from behind her ear, and she naturally tipped it with her left hand. At this time, people saw that the position of the little tail finger of her left hand was missing half of it.

More and more people came to watch, and a gray figure appeared in the crowd of onlookers. He froze in place, but quickly retreated.

Looking at the painting tied to the rope, the man smiled bitterly, she was guarding his time, but it was also her best time.

She said at the time that he deserved to die, and he did.

He thought about using death to repay the two of them, but he couldn't bear it, as long as he thought of leaving her alone in this world, he couldn't stand it.

Now, at least, he could always sneak a peek at her and see how she was doing.

And all he could do was not bother her.

As long as she's good.

Then he'll be fine.

On the plane, the man pulled down the window baffle, he wore headphones, but the Walkman only looped a single song.

"Twinkle and twinkle, the sky is full of small stars, hanging in the sky and shining brightly, like many small eyes, twinkle and shining, the sky is full of small eyes......"

The female voice sang intermittently, with a crying tone, but the man closed his eyes in satisfaction.

You gave him the best time of your life, but you didn't know that as long as you were there, it would be my best time-

Three years later, T City

"Daddy."

The little girl stumbled to the tall man and threw herself into his arms.

"Yue'er, have you been obedient today?" The man picked up the little girl and smiled softly.

"I'm so obedient, Dad, why hasn't Mom come back? Yue'er is three years old, why hasn't my mother come to see me? Didn't you tell me that when I was three years old, my mother would come to see me? You don't talk anymore, and your mother doesn't talk either! The little girl asked, flattening her mouth.

"Mom didn't come to see us, so let's go see Mom, okay?" The man took a deep breath and seemed to have made a big decision.

The little girl smiled when she heard this, she clapped her hands happily, and said seriously, "I know, my mother's name is Xia Xingchen, and my mother is a star, so Yue'er is the moon." Mom is in Venice, Uncle Amu said, Venice is in Italy, so we're going to Italy to find Mom! Am I right, Dad? ”

"Yes. Yue'er is right! ”

When she was pregnant in August, she was shot in the chest with a sniper rifle at the entrance of the hospital, exactly the same position as the cold suicide, and then rushed to the operating room.

Faith cried and begged him to save him, but he only whispered to her, "Faith Spirit, it's time for you to pay it back." ”

He knew that Mo Han did it, but he didn't say it.

It turned out that he was not the only one who couldn't let go.

He looked out the window at the setting sun, and he could see it.

Xingchen, it's been three years, are you starting to forget jì? Are you okay with my coming?

[Thank you for your support of "You Are My Best Time" for so long, and thank you for your willingness to watch it, waiting for it for such a long time, maybe you will think why the ending is cold and dead, but, sometimes, regret can also be a kind of perfection, isn't it? ] Thank you and love you! If you still want to continue to read Lao Mo's story, come and pay attention to Lao Mo's Weibo RN-Han Jingmo, so that you can know the publication time of the new book for the first time~ Please look forward to my new story, love you. 】