Chapter 13

The explosion land ushered in a year's reconstruction.

The name of Lebo Street gradually appeared in the mouths of Yokohama citizens.

In a jewelry store outside, the clerk put on glasses and looked at the exquisite silver lock. When asked about the origin of this thing, the oleifer boy, who had just turned eight, stood in front of the counter, tiptoed, and looked at the face.

Embarrassingly, he said, "This may be left by my parents."

The clerk was suspicious: "Maybe?"

He was worried that the child had stole someone else's necklace.

"I... got separated from my parents in that huge explosion." Nakabata also lied for the first time, stumbled, "I promise it was not something I stole."

The clerk compared the length of the necklace and nodded, "It's the item for the child."

"There are bats, gourds, and peaches on it." The clerk handed over the necklace to the boss who came out. He was not as experienced as the boss who had been in contact with jewelry for many years. "Boss, this is the style of Southeast Asia."

The store manager is quite old and can see the style of Yinsuo at a glance: "It's something Chinese like."

The clerk said "Wow" and raised his eyebrows to look at the child with orange hair and blue eyes.

"You don't look like Chinese."

“…”

Zhongyuan also jumped up and grabbed his silver lock, and ran away in a piss.

Passing by the glass window on the commercial street, he saw that his short and tender child's appearance was not deep and three-dimensional, but compared to Asians, he seemed to have a bit of a mixed race.

Back to the sheep organization, he was also listless in the Central Plains.

He was out of place with other orphans, and had secrets in his heart and could not reveal them to anyone.

"What does the person who gave me the silver lock... mean?" Zhongyuan was also staring at the silver lock that was worn on his neck. He didn't know how attractive this delicate and small silver lock was to other children.

In the sheep organization composed of orphans, everyone's survival is actually very difficult. They named it "Sheep" in order to join the group to keep warm like sheep.

During the day, they go out to find food and resources, help each other, and at night, they live together in a house donated by kind-hearted people. They don’t have to face the windy and rainy weather, but are anxious about the future.

However, the members of the Sheep Organization still retained some shame and would not take away the orphan's relics. Their eyes were sometimes straight, but they hadn't seen anything valuable for too long. Everyone agreed that Nakaya's biological parents died.

At the explosion scene, the Central Plains was left alone in search of his life.

In private, he also found the oldest companion in the Central Plains and asked: "What is Chinese?"

The companion replied: "Those people in Yokohama China Street."

Zhongyuan Zhongya asked again: "What is China Street?"

The companion entangled: "It's the place where Chinese people gather to live, ah, you'll know if you've been there."

Nakaya Nakaya's eyes became extremely serious, and he wanted to go to Yokohama Zhonghua Street to take a look.

Three days later.

Zhongyuan Zhong also found out about the news in a silver shop at the Huahua family.

The white-haired silversmith master pinched the silver lock and said nostalgically: "This is the long-lived lock."

"Children, the longevity lock is used to bless children with safety every year, without illness or disaster. The bats, gourds, and longevity peaches on it represent blessings, fortune and longevity." The silversmith master turned over and looked at the name, "In the Central Plains,"

Also, this is your name, your parents love you very much.”

Nakaya Nakaya's expression became absent-minded and said slowly: "Yes."

He heard the word "love".

like?

In his life, love is a strange thing. Who would give himself such feelings?

"I suggest you go to another store and ask, their family has a custom long-lived lock for people." The silver smith master looked at the Zhongyuan who ran to a strange place with pity, and noticed that the child with such a silver lock was born.

I was dressed in a simple manner and washed my clothes many times.

Zhongyuan also walked out with the silver lock in hand, turned a corner, and went to another store that the other party mentioned.

Then, he got the exact evidence.

The clerk glanced at the long life lock, "It is the long life lock made by our family. I flipped through the account book... I have it! The record is written. This style is an order placed last year and the account was settled in US dollars."

Zhongyuan Zhong also said anxiously: "Is there any more specific news?"

The clerk at the front desk was not convenient for him to tell the truth about the customer, but Nakabara also said: "My parents and I were scattered in the explosion in the Yokohama Concession, and I want to find them!" The clerk was soft-hearted and tried hard to recall the origin of the Longevity Lock.

"A year ago, a foreign customer was custom-made for his friend. He said that his friend's son was about to be born, so he asked him to customize a long life lock."

Zhongyuan has never been so close to the truth of his life experience, and he said with a trembling voice: "Do you have a phone number, address?"

The clerk sighed, copied it down, and handed it to him.

"...Don't be too sad."

"ah?"

The smile of the Central Plains also showed the address, and the expression solidified on his face.

——The address is Yokohama Concession.

Ten minutes later, Zhongyuan Zhong also made a phone call in the telephone booth, and was destined to receive the busy voice that no one answered.

During an explosion, all relevant clues were disconnected.

He squatted on the side of the road, thin and small, with orange hair stretched out, and his blue eyes were blankly looking at the pedestrians on the side of the road, unable to find the focal distance, just like a little orange cat that no one has adopted.

“My birth was not an accident.”

"Why don't you come to see me if you take me... out of the seal?"

He tried his best to recall the day he was born.

Vaguely, when he turned into a human child and fell asleep, someone kissed his face without hurting him, and put the cold necklace on his neck.

Zhongyuan also grabbed his hair, twisted his eyebrows, and gave up his fantasy.

He said in a silence.

"How could I... have human parents..."

It was so disgusting that he gave him hope, and he cut off all the clues without hesitation.

How did he be born?

However, Lan Tang, who was also "born" in the Central Plains, sat in the study, and Aso Qiu also went to work during the day, so he thought about the books alone to think about how to write poetry.

Enjoying a comfortable life, Lan Tang's extraordinary ability has not yet awakened for a long time and he considers himself an ordinary person. He holds books and drinks hot water from wolfberry in a thermos cup, wakes up early and goes to bed early, reflecting health care to the fullest

.If the "Colorful Painting Collection" has human ideas, it is probably necessary to complain about the other party.

Master, when you become a famous poet, European people with extraordinary abilities will doubt their lives.

Your job transfer is too leapfrog!

In the absence of connections and financial publicity, poetry collections are a relatively unpopular literary work, especially the authors are from France, and poetry collections are somewhat unacceptable. However, neither Aso Qiu nor Lan Tang pursues sales.

Whether to read it or not, Lan Tang believes that only a few people deserve to understand their inner world, so people can buy other poetry collections to decorate the bookshelf.

Lan Tang had just finished reading the Catholic scriptures, but faith lost the soil of his soul. He felt that he believed in God in the past, and in the blink of an eye, he felt that God was no big deal.

Humility and arrogance are in conflict with each other.

This is reflected in the draft poems left to him by Qiu.

He stroked the cold white fingertips through the wrinkles on the draft, gently smoothing them out.

Putting aside his thoughts on faith, Lan Tang stared at the beginning of a poem, and the complete sentence burst out with intense emotions, touching his heart, begging him to continue writing.

["Morning": Didn't I have ever been brave, beautiful and illusory youth that I was lucky to write on the golden page? What kind of madness and mistakes did I feel so weak in reality?]

He seems to coincide with his "past" self.

yes.

What kind of mistakes do you make to make yourself look like today.

He couldn't help but write down what he thought in his heart, and his inspiration was erratic, and he completed the content of the second sentence: "You said that the beast sobbed because of sadness, the patient was desperate, and the deceased was tortured by the dream demon. So, please tell me about my despair and

What's the reason for sleepiness."

Poetry is good at speaking.

As a poet, "he" wrote the beginning, he wrote the middle, and witnessed the follow-up.

["Early Morning": I can no longer speak myself, just like beggars cannot explain the "Catholic Sutra" and "Holy Mother" they recited, I can't even speak!]

“…”

Lan Tang frowned, clenched his teeth, and felt a delicate and dense entangled emotion.

"Ah, I still don't know enough about religion."

Unable to substitute.
To be continued...