There was no additional sound in the empty room, and the dim candle flame in the corner shallow reflected the sculpture of a deer praying devotionally, the shadows of the flowers entwined in the antlers cast on the opposite closet, and delicate shadows cast on the guitars carefully placed in the closet.

The lights outside the window had completely disappeared, and the darkness had completely covered the whole world, but the sight of people had not completely stopped, and the sound of the chariot gradually became louder and louder, and then stopped in the shouting of the coachman.

"Young master, we're back." The waiter's voice rang out outside the house.

No voice responded to his words, but steady footsteps began to sound and get closer.

"Go straight to rest," the footsteps stopped at the door, and the young man's voice was slightly hoarse, "let Patrazzi bring me a bowl of oatmeal porridge for hangover in a moment." ”

"Okay, young master." The waiter's voice mingled with the sound of the door opening, and the shadow of the young prosecutor in the moonlight cast in through the open door, and the waiter saluted him, took his cane and top hat, lit most of the candles in the house, and turned to leave the house.

The young prosecutor stood quietly on the ground, which seemed somewhat empty, and did not move.

"Smack." The attendant's careful closing of the door as he left was so evident in the quiet of the night that the young prosecutor seemed to wake up suddenly, and he staggered down on the couch, staring a little glazed over the men, women, animals, plants, and saints on the roof.

As if he had suddenly remembered something, he sat up quickly, his eyes on the guitar that was quietly placed in the closet.

He abruptly stood up, stumbling to remove the guitar that was sitting there, and sat down on a chair next to the closet.

He plucked the strings a few times at random, and seemed to be playing unskillfully, the staccato sound faintly connected into a somewhat familiar piece, and the presence of more than one dissonant note indicated that he was almost a complete beginner.

He finally stopped plucking the strings under his hand, and held the guitar in his arms in a very irregular motion, and the room fell completely silent.

"I've got a headache...... "The young prosecutor's soft voice rang out in the room, "Agnes, you help me rub ......"

He rested his head on Jean and closed his eyes.

After a long time, his voice rang out again in the room.

“...... I'm such an incompetent person......"

......

Agnes opened her eyes, the scene covered in gray gauze completely replaced by the dark blue sky outside the window, she let go of her grip on the windowsill, and subconsciously looked at the ring of thorns on her right ring finger.

"Aurelio is calling you." Hye-jin's voice rang in Agnes' ears, and she subconsciously turned around and looked into the full-length mirror in the corner.

"I know." Agnes said in a calm voice.

"Do you want to go back and see?" Hye-jin didn't speak, but Agnes knew what she was going to say through her dark brown eyes, which barely showed any emotion in both directions.

"No, I won't." Agnes spoke.

Agnes raised her hand to cover the dark brown eyes of the figure in the mirror, the familiar face of the figure gradually became dazzling and blurry in her eyes, she felt that she was breathless and dizzy, and the scene in front of her was almost a blur.

"I've chosen to leave, and I'm not going to stop."

She felt cracks spread under her palm, and the scene of the figure in the mirror gradually shattering with the spread of cracks almost came to her mind. She could almost imagine those dark brown eyes disappearing into the cracks, but only the white patches of color mixed with the red patches in front of her, and then quietly turned into a chaotic gray.

"Your Heart Tribulation has been completed, and the Walking Dead Syndrome is gone," Hui Zhen's voice sounded in her ears with a sigh, "and I, I will appear before your eyes again in the next season of the Dao Heart Tribulation." ”

"Of course, our agreement is valid for a long time," Huizhen's voice gradually became ethereal, "If you want, you will know how to do it." ”

Agnes put down her unscathed palm, closed her eyes and pressed her chest for a few deep breaths, she felt her consciousness seem to be rising, and it seemed to be falling, one after another, deep or shallow, light or dark, unpredictable, chaotic and noisy fluctuations rushed towards her, mixed into a sharp and piercing noise, drilled into her mind, sadness, joy, resentment, gratitude...... It's as if various colors of pigment have been poured together, mixed into a thick paste of indiscernible color.

She felt as if her eyes were a myriad of dots of all colors, most of which were constantly changing, only a few of them were pure and calm, or chaotic and cloudy.

And there are very few, Agnes subconsciously set her eyes on the small dot wrapped around the gray-black mist, and almost subconsciously leaned out of her consciousness to brush the snow-white flowers, the gray-black mist was taken away with her soothing, and the snow-white flowers brought a little clarity and tenderness.

When she opened her eyes, the chaotic gray in front of her almost completely disappeared, and only Agnes's own figure in her shirt remained in the shattered mirror.

The fragments were reflected in the same pair of eyes, with a pure and clear blue, and small black dots appeared and disappeared.

......

Winter in the Ducy Bay region brings a damp coolness to the mornings, with dewdrops sliding down the veins on the leaves.

The young prosecutor awoke to the singing of an unknown bird in gray, foreshadowing a slight grey glow of cloudy clouds.

He sat up, subconsciously raised his hand to press his temple, and raised an eyebrow at the unexpectedly relieved spirit of his mixed body fatigue.

"Young master, I have a little suggestion," said the butler with the tray as he pushed open the door and smiled gracefully, "If you want to stay sober at the banquet for a little longer, ginger ale is a good idea. ”

The young prosecutor stood up with a slightly helpless smile.

"Actually, I think I'm going to be in pretty good shape, Patrazi." He said inexplicably with some confidence.

"I also think the night you played with your guitar last night was very memorable." The butler raised an eyebrow and said.

"Perhaps...... Is it because Agnes helped me rub it? The young prosecutor said in a joking tone, but there was an inexplicable excitement in his eyes.

"I think it must be because Mademoiselle thinks you should find a qualified guitar teacher."

The young prosecutor shrugged helplessly at the butler's words, and looked out the window at the garden, which still looked verdant.

"Maybe." He spoke slowly.