Some stories are not exciting, and some people cannot be called legends. There is a bottomless well deep in everyone's heart, where the deepest past events are buried.
After parting ways with Connie, Ren and Sasha rode horses along the forest path, surrounded by tall fir trees and mottled shadows.
In Dow Jones Park Village, the place where the story begins, Ren quietly looked at the two-story buildings, the number of houses significantly increased, and the village's appearance had changed drastically.
No matter how hard the days are, as long as there is a small ray of hope, people will hold on tightly and grow as tenaciously as weeds in the wilderness in the bitter wind.
Renn calmly watched the people coming and going on the street. Five years ago, a large number of immigrants from Wall Maria came here. Now this secluded Orion Village is also much more lively. Some pedestrians are looking at it curiously.
Sasha and Renne right away.
Most people don't actually know them. After all, there are not many aboriginal people here. When Renn recalled the scene when he came to this world, he was reborn, but before that, he died in battle...
Sasha took Ren to a farm with beautiful scenery. Mr. Brous no longer hunted and was raising horses. He managed the place well and now his life is better than before.
"Sister, you are back." A little girl with a little baby fat looked at her excitedly.
Sasha went over and hugged her: "Kaya, are you still used to living here?"
"No problem, I'm fine." The little girl nodded. In fact, she was not Mr. Booth's daughter, but was adopted.
The last time a giant appeared at the Wall of Rose, Kaya's mother was killed by a 3-meter giant that slipped into the village, but she was saved by Sasha.
In addition to her, there are several children on the farm. These children are homeless. Mr. Brous adopted them and let them do simple work on the farm.
There is no exploitation of child labor. This is actually a charity. If no one adopts them, these orphans may starve to death.
Sasha introduced Ren to the children. She had been home briefly last time, so everyone at least knew her.
"I know, he is the beheader! He killed 55 giants." A boy stared at him with admiration and said with excitement.
"I've heard his stories, and he doesn't look evil."
The story about Renn was told by the old village chief to the children. The locals were actually surprised. The stubborn boy back then had become a powerful soldier. Many outsiders were amazed. They really didn't expect that.
This is actually the hometown of the recently famous "Beheader".
Wren had lunch at the farm, whom he had not seen for three years. Mr. Brous was very happy, and Mrs. Brous was also very enthusiastic. She seemed to regard Wren as her "son-in-law" candidate.
He is handsome, powerful, and successful. At first glance, the conditions are indeed good. Of course, since Ren returned here, he has been a little absent-minded.
Mr. Brous discovered this. After lunch, he gave a key to Renne: "Are you going to continue like this? Don't you consider taking a back seat?"
No matter how strong you are, if you keep rushing to the front, you will fall sooner or later. Sasha told me about you, and I think it is better for you to stay at the rear." Mr. Brous patiently advised him.
He keenly felt that there was something wrong with Ren's mental state, which might be fatal on the battlefield.
After taking the key to his father's cabin, Renn laughed very freely: "This may be the meaning of my existence. When I draw my sword to fight, I can feel that I am still alive.
If this road has no end, there is nothing wrong with just sleeping."
Only when fighting can he forget that he is a lonely ghost. When he returns to the original place, he remembers the past that seemed to be buried intentionally or unintentionally.
Mr. Brous sighed and watched him leave. Since he carried the unconscious man back, he found that Renn had completely changed.
He didn't know what the other person had gone through in the forest. Ren had just woken up at that time. When he looked into his eyes, he even felt fear. This was definitely not just a look that could appear after a near-death encounter.
Ren slowly walked to a remote corner of the village and in front of the abandoned cabin. There were no weeds growing in front of the door. Mr. Brous had taken care of it.
He inserted the key into the lock and pushed open the dusty wooden door with a creak. The scene in the house was no different from when he left, except that the tables, chairs and benches were covered in dust.
The sunlight once again shone into the somewhat damp and rotten wooden house, and dust spread in the few rays of light, moving irregularly.
He lived here for more than a month, and then did not return for three years. He picked up a piece of gauze and wiped the camphor wood bench clean. He then threw the gauze on the wooden table and did not clean the pots and pans.
He sat alone on the stool. For a long time, he whispered a poem, which he learned from a poor bard in Baita City:
"To the stranger,
I came to a strange place,
Smiling and greeting everyone,
No one knows me here,
I can laugh as much as I want,
Crying uncontrollably,
Because I am a foreigner.
Someone raised a glass of wine,
I smiled and shared my joys and sorrows with him,
I have to go now,
I can't stay in one place for too long,
Because I am a foreigner.
Trials and hardships,
I smell the moist smell of earth and the fragrance of flowers and plants,
Riding on the breeze, accompanied by the bright moon,
Come to the end of the sky,
I hold the sand, kiss the waves, embrace the morning sun,
The old time is settling in the mud, and I am ushering in a new life."
"You know, no one likes my poetry because I am not a poet, and you are the first one who wants to learn it." The bearded and unkempt poet on the street corner of Baita City said with a smile.
Karen shrugged: "Yes, your writing is not good, but I like it very much because I am a stranger."
The poet's hometown was destroyed by the war, and all his relatives and friends died. He was lucky enough to escape while traveling.
He began a longer journey and visited many countries. He would not stay in one place for too long. If he stayed for a long time, it would be easy to remember that he had nothing.
His poems were not well written, and he was very depressed, because he was not a poet, he was just a wanderer who was homeless due to the war.
Every time he went to a new place, it was like he was reborn. He could get to know everything anew in a strange environment.
In the wooden house, the sounds gradually subsided. Ren slowly stood up and walked towards the forest. What he was most accustomed to was probably loneliness.
He was not an orphan, nor was he a killer soldier. He came to a strange world and it took him a long time to forget everything in the past, but the feeling of being out of place never went away.
When people go to a strange country, it still takes a lot of time to adapt to the customs and customs there. What if it is a strange world? How can we forget that we are a "foreigner"?
Stepping under the shadow of the dancing trees, stepping on the soft grass, squeezing through shrubs and canes, he followed the route in his mind and arrived at the foot of a hillside.
There was a smooth gray rock at the bottom of the slope, surrounded by some green bermudagrass and zoysia grass. He walked to the stone and gently stroked the surface of the stone, feeling the texture from the palm of his hand.
Ren sat on the stone. This is where he came into this world. In the silent forest, moss covered the wrinkled bark of the old trees. The ground was overgrown with weeds. Broken spider webs were still hanging on the branches of the shrubs.
Above, the wet dewdrops slipped from the shiny stems and leaves of the green grass, and muskrats sneaked past.
He closed his eyes and lay on the rocks, the breeze blowing through his messy black hair, and yesterday reappeared...
