Because the sounds are similar and Van Gogh's voice is a little low, Bai Chu didn't hear clearly whether it was "she can't use these quilts" or "she can't use them in this life."
She should have understood his words as the former, so Bai Chu didn't understand why, "Why can't you use them?"
Van Gogh seemed a little tired, rubbed his eyebrows, and his voice was a little dull, "I just can't use it anymore, there are not so many reasons."
Bai Chu could naturally see that his face was not good. When Qingyao entered the inner room, he did not smile any longer and was very haggard. Bai Chu walked around the quilt on the ground and went forward: "Did you pull the wound? Is it uncomfortable?"
Van Gogh didn't answer, and his fingers traced back and forth along the patterns on the pillow, looking a little stunning.
Bai Chu looked at him for a while and sat down on the edge of the bed.
The candlelight in the room was slight and dark, and the dizzy yellow light shone on his face. His slightly drooping eyelashes cast a dark shadow on the side of his nose, making his face look very quiet.
Bai Chu took off his clothes and applied medicine to him again. After some action, he let her do it. His dark eyes, which had always been deep, were still deep, but for some reason, seemed to be less energetic inside.
Bai Chu looked at him, hesitated for a while, and said, "Van Gogh, you have something to worry about."
Van Gogh did not answer the conversation.
There were only two of them in the room, very quiet. If both of them didn't speak, they could clearly hear the sound of the wind blowing snow outside the house. Bai Chu was not used to the sudden silence of Van Gogh.
She stared at him for a while, feeling that this silence was not right.
Because she had no parents to accompany her since she was a child, she naturally would not tell her parents how she was. Thinking of Qing Yao whom she met for no reason today, Bai Chu suddenly remembered that since she met Van Gogh, she had never heard Van Gogh talk about his mother.
He clearly has a mother and also knows his whereabouts. But she has never heard him talk about him.
The wind outside seemed to be a little lighter, but the snow was getting heavier, and it was rustling down. You could tell that there would be a thick layer of snow on the earth tomorrow.
Bai Chu looked at Van Gogh for a while, lay down beside him, and looked at him side, "Van..."
As soon as he spoke, he saw him turn over and face her sideways, and naturally stretched his arms to bring her into his arms.
"Van Gogh, you have any injuries." She was afraid that she would pull his wound, so she held it and did not dare to move.
"I know." His voice was slightly hoarse in his clear voice.
Her head was pressed against his chest, and she couldn't see his expression, "Van Gogh?"
"Bai Chu, do you know about reincarnation?"
Bai Chu was a little confused by his sudden question. Before he could even wonder, he heard him answering the words as if he was talking to himself.
"Sentient beings are caused by the delusion and karma. The three realms are affected by life and death, and there is no end. They die and live again, and they are born and die again, and they are endless..." His voice was very nice, and it seemed particularly clear in this quiet night.
She naturally understood these things, and Bai Chu didn't understand why he suddenly told her about these things.
He seemed to be in a bad mood, so she let him say, "Isn't his mother just practicing reincarnation and cultivating... Suddenly, her whole body stiffened."
Just now, she suddenly felt that the only mortal in the yard had no breath.
It was unforeseen, without warning, and I felt a thrill.
She suddenly looked up at Van Gogh, the man lowered his eyes, with no expression on his face.
She came out of his arms without thinking, got out of bed, went out, and pushed open the bedroom door opposite.
The clean and tidy bedroom has very simple decorations, a bed, a table, and a chair.
On the bed, the peasant woman lies on her head with her eyes closed, as if she is asleep. However, her chest does not fluctuate at all, her mouth and nose does not breathe, and she doesn’t even have her heartbeat.
Died.
The person who was still good just now only left the shell of a mortal, and his soul was gone.
Under her and Van Gogh's noses, she died.
She saw a bowl of half-drink water on the table next to her, and a small open paper bag next to the bowl, with unused powder inside the paper bag.
Bai Chu didn't know how to describe the storm in her heart at this moment. She used her fingers to dip it in her mouth and tasted it. It was arsenic.
Van Gogh's mother was seeking death by herself.
No wonder she said she would not cook for them on Sunday and asked them to live next door. It turned out that she had already thought about seeking death.
Bai Chu returned to the room, and Van Gogh was still lying on the bed, his eyes were dull and his eyes were dim.
"Van Gogh, your mother..." Bai Chu didn't know how to continue.
Bai Chu knew that even if Van Gogh was injured, he would not have been able to sense that someone died in the house. He did not follow her to find out, and his previous reaction... he should have expected it long ago.
Seeing her come back, Fangu raised his eyes, "How did you die this time? Hanging? Cutting the pulse? Or did you penetrate the heart with one knife?"
The words were faint, and a smile seemed to be there and there was nothing on the corner of his mouth. The smile overflowed beside his mouth, as if the cold wind blew by in the cold winter. In an instant, water dripped on the ground and a ice flower bloomed. It was not funny at all.
She couldn't help calling him: "Van Gogh..."
His eyes were hanging down, and his face was dim, "I thought this time would be different, but the result was still the same."
"This time?" Is there many times before?
She had never seen Van Gogh look like this, her eyes were hanging down, her face was not at all radiant, she seemed to be indifferent, and she didn't care about everything around her, but she heard the curiosity in her words, "Bai Chu, do you want to know?"
She hurriedly was at a loss, "Can I... know?" Will you tell me?
"There is nothing wrong to tell you." He smiled slightly, reached out and patted the empty space beside him. "Although this bed is not very comfortable to sleep, it is better to lie down than to stand. Come over and I'll tell you."
Bai Chu went to bed as he said.
"From ancient times to the present, if the gods live for a certain age, they will be hidden. Once they move their hidden hearts, they will never be able to pull them back." He said lightly, covering the quilt that had not been thrown off the bed on her body.
In the hidden world, Bai Chu is not unfamiliar with this word.
She had never seen her parents' god since she was born. From the time when she first learned to walk to when she could jump and run, she always thought that she was born by her brother. She grew up and knew that she had parents. She asked her brother where her parents were, and her brother said that her parents had disappeared.
God hides, hides the world. Once this "hidden" heart exists, even if Qingqiu is destroyed, her parents will not be born and mixed with the world.
"After my mother gave birth to me, she became invisible, and God the Father could not stop me. So, I lost my mother the day I was born."
"So too." Bai Chu has never been a good listener, and he interrupted at this time. He clearly couldn't help but speak, but his voice was faint and gentle, for fear of making him angry at this moment. Van Gogh looked at her, and the soft voice just now made him feel itchy.