The evening in the port of Bellens seems to have arrived a little earlier than on the side of Fenerport.

The gray veil that was not dark in the sky quietly obscured everything, and the smell of cooking smoke quietly filled the whole street or the whole city. Everything seemed to be quiet, and it seemed like the interlude of a drama, hiding everything behind the silence.

Still a little too impulsive, Aurelio looked at the dark marks in front of him caused by a little dampness, the hand holding the cane subconsciously tightened, and then reacted and slowly released in the next moment, he exhaled slowly almost imperceptibly, and then raised his hand and gently knocked on the closed door.

What should he say? Aurelio waited quietly for a response from inside the door, saying that the nightmare happened too quickly and ended too quickly, that he didn't understand everyone's choice until he stepped into the extraordinary, that everything changed suddenly but he was stuck in the past, that he always thought about how he could change the outcome of all this, but only found that he was powerless......

Many thoughts rushed through his mind for a moment, but they completely disappeared in the continuous silence, and he raised his hand again and knocked lightly on the door.

There was no response.

Aurelio reached out and pushed the door, and with a "creak" sound, the wooden door was pushed open completely, revealing a room that seemed to have been completely untouched.

The only difference was the paper on the table full of words.

Aurerio walked slowly to the table, carefully removing his gloves and picking up the paper.

The familiar handwriting caught his eye, it was a small poem.

"Please don't shout at your back,"

"Except for the red dew above the thorns,"

"There's nothing there."

"The madness of the sea,"

"Reverberating in the darkness without light,"

"I still have lingering palpitations."

"Whatever you don't exist,"

"Or maybe I don't exist,"

"Every voice is there."

"Please open your indelible eyes and your unresting heart,"

"Behold the cobwebs and thorns of the wicked life,"

"Someone is holding a flag high."

"And I'm going to wear a wreath of ivy,"

"With desolate memories,"

"Go together in the ashes of the glitter of years."

Aurelio's hand tightened with the paper, and subconsciously released it as it showed to be wrinkled. He closed his eyes slightly, and carefully folded the paper and put it in the pocket on his chest that should have been used to hold a handkerchief.

"Let's go, the results are already obvious," Aurelio said in a calm voice, "Agnes doesn't want to see me. ”

The attendant behind him did not dare to speak, but obediently followed Aurelio out of the room.

The candle-lit hallway still looked a little dim, and the noise of diners on the first floor came from the not-so-soundproof floor, with a faint sound of music, with a clear Gubailan and Highland style.

Aurelio walked down the stairs and subconsciously looked towards the source of the music.

It was a thin Southern Continent boy who looked fifteen or sixteen years old, with a delicate face, wearing a linen wide-sleeved burqa, with bronzed skin and short unkempt black hair. His brown eyes were half-closed, and his gaze was cast on the golden bull head of the Gubai Langshiqin in his hand, with a slight mistance, as if he was completely immersed in the music.

Aurelio subconsciously stopped near where the boy was playing, and remembered the large group of people behind him, took a few steps back, and found a table to sit down.

A little bigger than Angnes.

As he looked at the boy, he couldn't help but think of Agnes when she played, and the concert that he and his father had not been able to attend.

It's a lot more liberal than a concert, and Agnes should like it.

This is Aurelio's next thought.

He sat there quietly, asked for a cup of black tea, and listened carefully to the boy's performance until the boy's performance was over.

He subconsciously took out a few coins of gold and lira from his pocket, then paused, waved his hand to the attendant behind him, took a handful of Intis's Kope from the attendant, and walked towards the boy.

"Thank you, sir." The boy said in jerky and accented Intius.

Aurelio smiled and nodded, turned and walked back to the table, and looked back at the boy uncontrollably.

The boy had already gathered his things, and the figure flashed away in the hallway leading to the back door, and Aurelio unconsciously stood up and tried to chase after him.

"What's going on, Mr. Viscount?" The attendant stood up nervously, his hands subconsciously resting on the weapon at his waist.

"It's nothing," Aurelio sat back down, "let's go, we have to go back." ”

-----------------

The back door of the inn.

The smell of mud and excrement mixed together to create a disgusting stench, and homeless homeless people huddled in the midst of it, staring at every door where garbage might be thrown out.

Agnes walked slowly out of the alley with her piano in her arms, her little malicious gaze swept over her, and then retracted when she saw that she had nothing but a groom.

"Did you stay at the hotel just to see the gentleman?" The girl silently appeared behind Agnes and asked in a low voice.

"Yes." Agnes was still walking forward.

"You didn't meet him."

The girl took a few quick steps, tilted her head, and let her gaze fall directly on Agnes's face, she looked up and down, and finally asked with some confusion, "Isn't he important?" ”

"On the contrary, it is very important," said Agnes, who paused, turned and met the girl's gaze directly, her voice tinged with a slight muffle, the scent of earth rising between her tongue, "it is because it is important that it must be restrained, and I am even too indulgent. ”

"For me now...... I will be shaken by his words, and I will stop at his request. ”

"It's fatal to me," Agnes whispered, as if she had seen everything in front of her again dazzling and blurry, "and it was enough to shake my desire." ”

"The change of the human heart is dangerous," she said softly and in a trance, "that I cannot stop having made a choice, that it is a never-ending dance that dances on my heart, and all of it cannot be avoided unless I go into my own mind and kill the part of myself to which I belong." ”

"But which part is normal?" Agnes raised her hand in pain, and Shiqin, with its golden bull's head, fell down heavily, caught by a faint circle of ripples, and carefully placed on the ground.

"Is it me who is thinking calmly now? Or do you want to run back regardless of me? Her hands covered her face, and yellowed pus flowed down her palms, leaving visible marks on the white cuffs, "Still not ......"

"I'm the one who can stare at the side indifferently?"