As recorded by Professor Drake, the experience of the poet Mr. Rowland took place in this year, that is, in the spring of 1853.
It was a sunny day. With his notebook and a small knife for self-defense hidden in his body, Mr. Roland went to the wetland lake area in the west of Huntington City for an outing.
Although primarily a translator, Mr. Rowland had a wide circle of friends. When passing by the apple orchard of my friend Mr. Cedric, I wandered casually in the apple orchard, preparing to brew a little poem about the frost on the trees in winter.
And when he came to the depths of the woods in the orchard, a human face suddenly appeared on the tree beside him. More precisely, it was the lines and cracks on the trunk that formed a human face:
"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm sure it wasn't a hallucination I got drunk."
When Mr. Roland in the tavern said this, he held a glass of wine and made an excuse:
"I usually don't drink when I write poetry."
Just as the fisherman in Lower Luthor was frightened by the talking snake, Mr. Rowland in the spring was frightened by such strange things even though he was more educated than the villager.
He described to Shad his panic at the time, and how he tried to escape in a panic:
"I don't remember how long I ran, but I couldn't get out of the woods. Yes, I feel like I haven't done that since the autumn of 1850, when I was chased three blocks by wild dogs. Vigorous exercise."
Mr. Roland recalled that Shade nodded while recording, feeling that these miraculous experiences were more interesting than the goddess of the lake herself.
The faces on the tree can move with each other on the trunk, so when Mr. Roland no longer has the strength to move forward, the faces on the trunk can speak again.
"It was singing like it was in a fairy tale. I can't describe the sound of the trees, but the song was basically asking me, when spring is coming and the winter snows are going to melt, what do those snows look like?" Won't it look pitiful?"
said the poet, taking a gulp of wine. The alcohol content in this kind of tavern is not high, so there is no need to worry about getting drunk.
"So how did you answer that?"
Xia De asked curiously, and Mr. Roland drew a circle in the air with his right index finger, humming softly:
"Snow is the messenger of winter. When spring comes, they should give up their position and let flowers and sunshine come to the world."
This statement is very similar to the poet's tone.
"And if it were you, Mr. Watson, what would you answer?"
The poet asked Xia De again, Xia De thought for a while:
"The snow doesn't disappear, it turns into water, soaking the ground in the spring. It re-evaporates into the sky the following summer, falls as rain in the autumn, and turns into snow again in the winter. It's a This cycle, the snow is not dead."
Mr. Roland smiled:
"Mind if I take your words down?"
After answering the question of the face on the tree, the face seemed satisfied with the poet's answer. Then the ground shook, and the trees that besieged Mr. Roland gave way to the surroundings.
Mr. Roland, who was trapped in the woods, walked towards the end of the path in fear, and saw a lake at the end.
"I immediately thought of the legend of the goddess of the lake. Mr. Watson, I am a local. Although I am only a commoner, my family has lived in the local area for five generations. I grew up listening to local stories. It’s easy to think of those fantastic rumors.”
"Did you step on the ice to the island in the middle of the lake?"
Xia De asked, but the poet shook his head slightly:
"No no, spring has come by then, and there is no ice on the lake. However, there is a small boat parked by the lake. When I sit in the boat, I don't even have to shake the oars, it will automatically carry me and slide across. The silky surface of the lake sails towards the island in the center of the lake where everything is thriving and thriving.”
He squinted, enjoying his memories.
Xia De nodded, and wrote down the matter in his notebook again. It seems that the seasons of the lake correspond to the real world, instead of always maintaining the winter appearance in the mouth of the one-eyed fisherman Mr. Graves:
"Next question, what did you encounter on Huxin Island?"
"I met a middle-aged lady wearing a white robe and holding a white oak cane. Although she is very plainly dressed, I don't think even the queen in the newspaper is as beautiful as her."
Contrary to what old Graves of Lower Luther said, the fisherman encountered an old woman.
"You made a wish to her?"
"Yes, but before that, she asked me to write a poem for her, to praise her beauty, which was not difficult for me. Or, even if she didn't let me, I would still write Poetry, her beauty is unmatched."
Said the poet nostalgic.
"After finishing the poem, she asked me if I had any wishes. I was a little confused with excitement at the time. I was going to say 'talent', but I felt that my talent was already very outstanding. Asking for talent is against other poets. unfair."
Xia De secretly suppressed a smile.
"So I ended up asking that lady for luck."
He pointed to the card next to the wine glass on the table.
"Then you left?"
"Yes, I went to look for that lake later, but I couldn't find it again. But this extraordinary luck did appear on me."
Mr. Roland sighed, held the wine glass in his intact left hand, and touched Xia De:
"It's a wonderful story, isn't it? But I don't want to share it with anyone, because I don't want those greedy people to disturb the peace of that lady."
Xia De frowned and took a sip of his own wine. He was very satisfied with this wine mixed with water, which tasted a bit like grape juice:
"I noticed that in your story, you didn't mention how your fingers became like this."
"Actually, in my memory, I can't find the reason why I lack these two fingers."
Mr. Roland shook his head, also looking puzzled:
"It seems like they've always been like that. I've had hands like this in all my old photos, and my friends said they had my hands like that when they met me. But I clearly remember that I wasn't born with This disabled look, so there must be something wrong with it, but I just can't remember it."
"Is it related to the special experience this spring?"
Xia De asked, the poet shook his head slightly:
"Probably related, I don't know."
"Then is it convenient to tell me the address of that orchard?"
"Of course, I wish you success, Mr. Watson. But don't be greedy, yes, don't be greedy."
He took out a pen from his pocket, pulled Shade's notebook, and wrote letters in his notebook with blue-black ink. This is the address of the orchard:
"The only things we can get are what will be ours."
After finishing writing, he didn't return Shade's notebook immediately, but chose Star 1's [Carson Rick Horror Story·Headless Horseman Jack] from his own deck, put the card in the notebook and handed it to him. Shad:
"This is yours."
"Why?"
Xia De asked curiously, and picked up the Rhodes card to check.
Mr. Roland shrugged:
"You did win me. Since you don't want my money, then accept this card. You deserve it. Moreover, I think you are the kind of person who will help others after taking advantage of others. So , please try your best to find the lake of cherubim, and let the goddess of the lake take back my luck. Yes, take it back, I really can’t bear this luck anymore.”
Xia De looked at the face of the headless horseman and smiled:
"Yes, I promise you."
It was two o'clock in the afternoon when we left the tavern, which was probably the hottest time of the day, but in early winter, the bitter wind could still make people shiver.
The Cedric Orchard mentioned by Mr. Roland is a large apple orchard in the western part of the downtown area of Huntington. The owner of the orchard, Mr. Cedric, is not a local, but a wealthy businessman from Willendale. The orchard and bookstore are only one of his properties.
Xia De didn't want to encounter the unlucky thing like yesterday again, so he didn't detour to the east of the city to find Mr. Bernhardt and asked him to write a letter of introduction for him, but rode directly to the west of the city.
The area of Cedric Orchard is so large that it is impossible to fence the whole forest. In addition, in winter ~www.mtlnovel.com~ there are already no fruits on the treetops, and even the guards of the orchard are not interested in patrolling, so Xia De led the horse from the east side of the orchard, near Lake Lane. While in the woods, no one noticed.
He still remembered what Professor Drake said, not to search for the goddess of the lake, but it was actually difficult for him to control his thoughts. I ran into a pack of wolves last night, and encountered an accident while chasing the fleeing wolves, but there were no wild wolves in this woods who couldn't open their eyes and provoke Xia De.
Walking in the forest with a horse, there are dry tree branches above the head, and the soft ground under the feet. Xia De knew that if he continued walking, he probably couldn't find any clues, so he simply found a sparse woodland and stopped, tied the horse to a tree, and let it eat the few remaining weeds, while Xia De leaned on the He sat down with the tree trunk in his arms, and then took out his notebook, intending to finish the outline of the mathematics paper he planned to write.
He wrote a part of it by hand last night. If he can finish it today, he will have time to go to Miss Sylvia for correction tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
The winter sunshine in the suburbs was just right, the sunlight illuminated the notebook, and also illuminated the handsome young man in a black coat, who was concentrating on the math problem.
Beside him, a brown-red horse with a saddle on its back, is grazing meekly. Occasionally, he would raise his head and look into the distance, and then impatiently stamped on the ground with his hoof, as if wondering what Shad was doing.
This is a very ordinary winter afternoon, and Xia De is looking forward to another encounter.
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