The sky over Florence was covered with clouds, just like the man's mood.
There is both regret and anger at not being able to save a beautiful life, as well as deep doubts about oneself.
People who have never experienced failure are prone to this mentality.
Verrocchio had gained a little weight from eating in the past two years. He said hello to Harley, walked up to the rooftop of Annuo's mansion, and looked at the somewhat lonely figure from behind.
He remembered what he had seen at Mrs. Simonetta's funeral yesterday, the unwilling young man clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.
Sighing, the teacher walked to the student's side.
"Simonetta... passed away."
Annuo raised his head and glanced at Verrocchio, and said in a low voice: "Yes."
Verrocchio smacked his lips, sat next to Anno, and patted the talented student on the shoulder.
"You don't have to blame yourself, Lawrence."
"I...just feel like I'm a little..."
"Don't feel it." Verrocchio slapped Annuo's head with his calloused hands.
An Nuo seemed to be frightened: "Teacher, you..."
Verrocchio directly sent his trump card: "Harry, she is very worried about you."
When An Nuo heard this, he froze on the spot and opened his mouth.
"The departure of that little girl Simonetta is something none of us want to see, Lawrence, not just you."
"I heard that you did everything for that little girl. You tried your best. If you didn't do it, you can lament or be sad." Verrocchio straightened Anno's uneven collar with helpless eyes.
"But you can't be decadent, even for a moment, because you have Harley and you have Adrosson, do you understand?"
"...I asked Lorenzo about Simonetta." Verrocchio stood up and looked at Lorenzo's palace in the center of the city. "Her situation... even though
Even the presence of God cannot save her. We are just mortals and mortals who are more talented than mortals, so how can we get her back from the hands of death?"
Annuo raised his head and glanced at Harley, who was standing at the door of the rooftop with Adrosong in his arms. Looking at Harley's worried eyes, he suddenly felt guilty.
The man swallowed, stood up, and came to his wife's side: "Harry, forgive me, I shouldn't..."
Harley smiled gently, that's the kind of person she is: "I don't blame you, dear."
Facing his understanding wife, Annuo couldn't say anything.
He took a deep breath and smiled.
"I need to regroup, my dear." With such a wife, Annuo felt that he was the luckiest man in the world. He suddenly felt that his sense of defeat for not saving Mrs. Simonetta disappeared completely.
In fact, Harley is just a guide, and Annuo's own self-regulation ability is quite strong.
Verrocchio, who was left hanging aside:......
An Nuo looked at his beautiful wife and wondered if he should do something.
He took Adrosong, held the hands of his wife and children, and walked away with a smile: "In order to improve the mood of our family, I decided to cook in person on a rare occasion!"
Adroson was so happy that he was jumping around as he walked.
The completely forgotten Verrocchio:...bad luck!
The chubby teacher sat sadly on the rooftop, looking at the sky that was beginning to clear up, feeling like crying but without tears.
"What...is this all about!"
............
Verrocchio went home cursing and didn't even stay at Anno's house for dinner.
An Nuo had a black question mark on his face.
But that's not important. Annuo let Manlio sleep by himself today, and Annuo made up for his wife's worry and sadness during this period.
Simonetta's departure did not cause a stir. Brothers Lorenzo and Julius were also sensible people. They knew that Anno was not to blame for this matter, and they did not choose to embarrass Anno.
But the relationship between several people must have been like a thorn in the throat.
Anno's visits to Lorenzo's palace as a guest were much less frequent.
He was also thinking about a question.
Was his decision to give up dissection because he didn’t want his hands stained with blood too childish and hasty?
After thinking about this issue for a long time, Annuo made up his mind.
He bought a chicken.
Annuo, who had never killed an animal before, hesitated for a long time before killing the chicken with a knife.
As Annuo's assistant, Harley helped Annuo record some information and data, while Annuo, holding a pen with bloody hands, drew the anatomy of the chicken.
Annuo didn't know the meaning of doing this, but he still maintained a serious attitude and completed this cruel task.
Harley is also sad, but she will always support her lover, even if he is wrong.
After the dissection, the two kissed gently.
Annuo recorded all the structures of this big rooster on paper this time, including the head, feathers, internal organs, bones, etc. The couple looked at the complete manuscript and smiled easily and heavily.
It was relaxing because there was no need to continue the bloodshed, and it was heavy because the scene just now had a psychological shadow on both of them.
Neither Annuo nor Harley had ever killed an animal. Other rich people and nobles all liked hunting, but Annuo had never participated in it.
Today is a first of its kind.
The couple was lying on the bed, Adrosson in the middle was already asleep, but both of them were looking at the ceiling with their eyes wide open.
Tonight, these two people are destined to not be able to sleep.
...
Diary of Luslan, Florence, Italy, December 1, 1476.
I feel like I have gained a little bit of myself.
I am an individual named "Luslan", created for the act of "seeing".
I have been with this "Anno" for a long time.
But I can't understand many of his behaviors.
Can't understand.
Why can't you understand?
It doesn't matter.
I was not created as a human being. Things like feelings may not matter. I just need to maintain the function of "seeing".
But...I do seem to have gained a little bit...something like myself?
Otherwise, why would I engage in such complicated thinking?
What a worry, what a worry.
Is this a side effect of imitating others?
The old housekeeper imitated Annuo and recorded something with a pen.
Having said that, why can't I give birth to myself?
The disguised spiritual eyes faded away, and there was a hint of thinking in the coldness and rationality.
Putting aside other issues, there have been obvious changes between me and the me "then".
Since that person didn't take action to remind me, maybe it's best to let nature take its course.
Ah, I’m so tired from thinking. Standard housekeeping work is much easier than this.
I somewhat miss that time.
I miss the time when I was in Britain...
The paper on which the words were recorded suddenly turned into fly ash and was scattered in the air by the old housekeeper.