Kitahara Hakushu.

When Kitahara and Feng heard this name, they were a little confused.

His rich literary literacy almost immediately reminded him of who this name belonged to in his previous life: a famous Japanese nursery rhyme writer, poet, and...

War elements who use nursery rhymes to beautify war and promote the justice of aggression to children.

——So does "Kitahara Hakushu" in this world have anything to do with him?

The corner of the traveler's mouth twitched, and he tried hard to look through the memories in his mind that belonged to the original owner, and finally found the name from the fragmented fragments.

"He seems to be my cousin. But I don't have much contact with him, and we have very few contacts... so is there anything related to him?"

Kitahara and Kaede briefly reviewed their memories, and replied as briskly as possible: "If you want to do anything, don't worry about me. I don't know many people in Japan. And to be honest, I don't care about the military.

I don’t have a good impression of him.”

To be precise, Asagiri doesn't seem to have a good impression of Japan's military. I feel that among the people who come out of it, nine out of ten are innocent, but seven out of ten are definitely someone who has slipped through the net.

The malice is so great that it makes people feel that Asagiri is against the war.

Kitahara and Feng complained silently in their hearts, and then continued to wait for the other party's answer.

Verlaine on the other side of the phone was silent for a while, and his tone was a little cold: "Then when we have conflicts, I will not give face to the other party. Chuuya's experiments are related to the military, and I suspect they are working on more supernatural powers.

Human experiments.”

"The hounds are most likely the product of human experimentation."

At this point, Verlaine suddenly chuckled vaguely: "Speaking of which, you should be in Ireland now. Exactly one year ago, a natural disaster caused by the vampire virus broke out in Ireland, and it was the blessed land Sakura Chi who solved it.

.”

"Tch. That guy...that is, the Irish Transcendent was basically unable to turn around at that time. In addition, his relationship with Bram was not bad. The bell tower attendant next to him sat back and ignored him. It was his turn to have a chance.

take advantage of."

Wilde, who was just quietly listening to the chat between Kitahara, Kaede and Verlaine, suddenly spoke quietly from the side, his green eyes filled with deep unhappiness, and he even stopped writing.

"And there must be a reason why Bram suddenly spread the vampire virus. What was the result? He not only killed people, but also cut off all the clues. It makes people doubt his purpose."

Kitahara and Kaede raised their heads and glanced at Wilde, whose green eyes suddenly darkened. He sighed, took the initiative to walk over with his cell phone, and rubbed his hair comfortingly.

Wilde raised his slightly melancholy eyes, silently took the initiative to hug the other person, buried his head on the other person's neck, and hugged him hard.

Beihara and Feng sighed, patted each other on the back, and then took their mobile phones and said to Verlaine: "Huh? That was Oscar Wilde just now, a painter I met during the trip. He said he planned to paint a picture for me.

Hua. Our relationship is pretty good."

Verlaine frowned slightly on the other side, and his eyes couldn't help but become alert and dangerous.

Unlike Rimbaud, who is still in a state of amnesia, as a former French spy and assassin, he naturally knows the intelligence of most of Europe's top superpowers.

Among them is the Irish transcendent, Oscar Wilde.

——The superpower is related to paintings. It is said that everyone who is drawn into the paintings will encounter misfortune. And he is obviously a transcendent in Ireland, but he stays in London all year round.

So here comes the question, the other party actually wants to draw pictures for Kitahara and Feng? Who knows if it is the conspiracy of those bell tower attendants?

"I find it's really easy for you to hang out with people of unknown origin. You know, Wilde is a very dangerous person."

"Um……"

Kitahara and Kaede lowered their heads and looked at Wilde, who was sulking on his shoulders. They felt that the other person's hands were holding their waists with such strength that they could hardly break free.

The painter obviously heard what the other party said, so he simply let out a muffled laugh from his chest, raised his face, and narrowed his beautiful emerald eyes slightly, looking soft.

No, Kitahara.

He said this silently with his mouth, his eyes were smiling, and there was no hint of dangerous coldness towards the phone.

Beihara and Feng also looked at him, and finally stretched out their hands to cover each other's eyes, and replied in a relaxed tone: "There is no need for this, I think Mr. Wilde is very good. Verlaine, you don't have to worry, Charles asked me to be careful about you back then.

Come on."

There was silence on the other side for a long time. It was so long that Beihara and Feng felt that the phone had been hung up for a moment, and then Verlaine's voice rang again.

"...No matter what, I will tell Hugo."

He said this with a very calm tone: "What you want is your decision. But he should be very concerned about it."

Seeing that the other party was a bit duplicitous, Kitahara and Kaede couldn't help but raise their eyebrows, and the corners of their lips could not help but raise slightly. They just wanted to tease him a few words, but found that the Transcendent opposite him quickly hung up the phone after finishing his words.

It was broken, as if something was chasing and biting the red dragon's tail.

"This guy..."

The traveler smiled and shook his head, looked at Wilde who was nestled in his arms, put his mobile phone next to him, put down the hand that had been covering his eyes, and said in a brisk tone: "Then let's continue painting.

, Mr. Wilde.”

Wilde did not answer.

——He just watched silently, watching the person in front of him quietly with his green eyes, looking at him with that kind of scrutiny and inquiry.

Finally, the painter suddenly smiled and took the initiative to move forward and kiss the eyes of the beautiful model in front of him, his friend whom he had known for a short time.

"Kitahara..."

The blond painter lowered his eyes, looked at the somewhat confused traveler, and spoke almost abruptly, as if he wanted to say something.

But in the end, he didn't say anything. He just took a step back, took the initiative to leave the other party's arms, smiled and shook his pen, as if nothing had happened:

"Okay, sit there, I haven't finished painting yet."

Kitahara and Kaede, who were still in a state of daze, pressed their right eyes that were kissed, and subconsciously said "Huh?" after hearing this sentence. It was not until they saw Wilde's disgusted eyes that they realized what the other party had said.

"I suspect you are trying to do something to my eyes."

The traveler complained, sitting back behind the coffee table again, and continued to turn on his computer to check the details of the journey: "You are not thinking about changing my eyes, are you?"

"I have to say, Beiyuan, your understanding of me is so perfect every time."

Wilde tilted his head, drew an arc lightly with his pencil on the paper, and laughed very lightly, with a joking and inexplicable tone in his voice: "That's what I thought."

After saying this, he suddenly speeded up and completed the remaining details at an extremely fast speed. He stretched out leisurely, put the notebook under his arm, and walked toward the room.

"Remember to prepare the lunch I mentioned - don't get your clothes dirty, I'll appreciate it later. Hmm, I already have new inspiration."

"...Then I should really thank you."

Kitahara and Kaede typed out a line of words on the computer and replied angrily. Then they stood up and planned to change their clothes and go out to buy the fresh ingredients he specified for this pampered cat.

After getting acquainted with each other, they became accustomed to this way of getting along, and spent most of their time complaining about each other. Even if they occasionally needed each other's comfort and care, it usually wouldn't last long.

After all, they are not people who need care from others, and their hearts are firm and strong enough.

What's more, Wilde, a proud cat, may not be able to accept "care". He just needs to find a place where he can take a nap and find a sense of security where he can settle down.

——What's more, Wilde's identity as a painter determines the indifference between them, with a sense of remoteness unique to aesthetic distance, and constant scrutiny and measurement from reason.

Just like Wilde's attitude towards Kitahara and Kaede's eyes.

"Although I really like those orange-gold eyes, I still can't do it."

Wilde rolled on his bed, tore off his drawing and threw it aside, burying it in his quilt, mumbling depressedly, without even looking at what he had just drawn.

Just let the piece of paper float down like a falling butterfly, twisting and stumbling, and stay with other scrapped drawings.

Without exception, the people in those paintings are all that traveler.

Kitahara and Kaede were smiling, Kitahara and Kaede were looking helplessly with a frown, Kitahara and Kaede were too sleepy to open their eyes, Kitahara and Kaede were sleeping with their eyes closed, Kitahara and Kaede were raising their heads while cooking,

Kitahara and Kaede are reading a book, looking at Kitahara and Kaede in the distance on the top of the mountain...

Each stroke has clean and accurate lines, which fully demonstrate the demeanor and temperament of the person in the painting, perfectly demonstrating the painter's skill and precise grasp of the person in the painting.

If I had to point out something to criticize, it would be the color of the eyes.

——Even in the black and white sketch, you can see that the eyes above are too dark.

It is so deep that if someone who doesn't know it sees it, they will definitely think it is black eyes instead of warm and bright orange gold.

"Why black?"

Wilde turned over, looked at the ceiling, and murmured almost to himself, with a serious expression like a puzzle solver who had seen the most difficult puzzle in the world.

Yes, he knew that Kitahara Kaede's eyes were orange-gold, and he even liked those beautiful and bright eyes, and the gorgeous color like the sunset.

But he always had a feeling, a vague and uncertain feeling.

This feeling became clearer and clearer after he spent time with Beihara and Feng, so much so that he could not convince himself that it was just his own whim.

This is not the most suitable color for this person's eyes. Wilde closed his eyes and thought with certainty.

Wilde would have this feeling when he saw Kitahara and Kaede closing their eyes, watching each other sleeping, watching each other silently looking at the moonlight by chance, and it became more and more intense.

His eyes should not be so bright, not so intense and dazzling. Instead, they should be a very tired color, a very deep color, and also a very gentle and tolerant color.

Just like the dark night, just like his inky hair.

This should be the real color of the other person's eyes, and it is also the color that best suits this person's temperament. Of course, those beautiful orange-gold eyes are beautiful, and even because of their beauty, they cover up too many things.

And these things can only be seen when Beihara and Feng close their eyes.
To be continued...