It was like a dream. The moment I woke up from the dream, there was a "boom" in my mind and I was separated from the battlefield on the Arctic ice sheet.
In a stable at an unknown location, Fang Ran, who had woken up from a coma, opened his eyes in shock. He looked at the thin girl who had not grown up before him and held up a pitchfork with a somewhat weak grip on her wrist.
She looked nervously at this stranger who suddenly appeared.
Shabby linen clothes stained with dry horse grass,
The language I don’t understand is probably questions like ‘Who are you?
But just by having her appear in front of him again, Fangran could feel the heat still remaining in his eyes.
Whether it was the rare hair color or the pupils of the same color, the mixed-race appearance made Fangran instinctively think of the corresponding name in an instant, even if he hadn't grown up yet.
Ling...
A sense of unreal absurdity washed over his mind, causing his throat to choke and his voice to tremble as he spoke to her:
"you..."
Seeing his actions, the girl took a cautious step back, her pitchfork still pointed at Fang Ran, but after hearing Fang Ran's voice, she was suddenly startled.
Then she rummaged through her memory to find the language she thought she would never use again. Her expression was unexpected but not relaxed, and she spoke a little awkwardly and not very fluently:
"You...are from the Far East...?"
Far East?
His mind was still blank. This was the first time he heard such a title in his jerky Chinese. Seeing her vigilant look, Fangran's movement of reaching out his hand stopped in place.
The moment his thoughts slowly became clearer, he finally woke up from the hazy state of consciousness in which he had been unconscious for an unknown period of time, and began to sort out the various unknowns that hit him at this moment.
The moment his eyes reached the edge of his field of vision, his pupils suddenly shrank.
For a moment, everything seemed to have an answer,
Just slightly incredible.
After remaining stunned for a few seconds, Fangran finally accepted the status quo. The fact that he was not on the ice sheet in the far north of the world now,
Then he stood up and looked outside,
It's daybreak.
Seeing him stand up, the horse next to him also stood up and snorted close to him.
Only then did she notice the badly damaged dark coat on his body, and the badge on his collar that was inlaid with gems and shimmering with gold.
This made the girl's already weak face even more pale. The pitchfork she was pointing at was now held in front of her, she pursed her lips and remained silent.
After touching the horse next to him, Fangran actually looked at the girl in a daze, not knowing what to say for a moment.
But after a long time, Fangran still took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled it, calming down the tension in his body that may have been caused by the previous battle against Zero Cavalry.
Perhaps it was the desperate madness after being struck down by that light and shadow,
Or maybe it's... the guilt and reluctance of being held by the figure in front of me but unable to do anything.
"able..."
Fangran opened his mouth tentatively, with caution and uneasiness for fear of scaring her. Fangran looked at the girl in front of him with his hands wrapped around cloth strips and holding a pitchfork, and spoke softly:
"Tell me where this is?"
She pursed her lips and looked at his face, as if she was digesting and understanding the meaning of his words. After a while, the girl was silent and answered:
"Il."
il...
He didn't know the name of the place at all. Fangran looked at the 'Ling' in front of him who was not the one he knew. He stopped pointing the pitchfork at him from just now, but he felt a sense of awe and caution inexplicably.
Looking at the few lines of words that contained no information at all at the edge of his field of vision, and recalling the girl's name for him who spoke Chinese as "Far Easterner", Fangran subconsciously asked:
"U.K?"
There are only two words in pronunciation, which don't seem to be complicated. She looks like she is only twelve years old, but she is far more mature than her younger appearance. There is no unnecessary expression. She lowers her head and no longer looks directly at Fangran.
It seems that because he has not used it for a long time and is not particularly familiar with the language, the pronunciation is slightly strange, and he purses his lips and speaks:
"Italy."
Suddenly he was stunned, and suddenly remembered that Ling had indeed spoken Italian several times.
Indeed, speaking of Ling's hometown, it should be Italy...
etc!
The girl in front of him was obviously not the figure he knew, coupled with the sunshine outside that was not night, and Italy's unexpected but reasonable answer,
Fangran suddenly realized a key issue. He looked at the black and white Gothic dress in front of him without remembering it.
The girl, who was wearing old or even tattered rough linen, with her arms and legs even wrapped with strips of cloth that might have been picked up, asked dully:
"What year is it now?"
It seemed to be a rather difficult question. He tied his light blond, dry and shaggy hair with a rope made of horse straw. After understanding the meaning of Fangran's words,
Little by little, he found the pronunciation corresponding to those numbers, and answered slowly and difficultly:
"1....9....1....6...."
Then after saying this, she saw a young man in front of her who was dressed decently and luxuriously that she could not imagine. She was stunned and froze on the spot.
There was only disbelief on his face.
1916...
The moment he heard this answer, Fangran almost thought he was hallucinating. He was stunned, caught in this sudden and incredible situation that was beyond common sense.
In 1916...
Then I am now more than a hundred years ago!?
Wait, in 1916, that wasn't...
Three conflicts in Europe intensified, triggered by the Sarajevo incident
Fangran's eyes widened in shock. The historical knowledge from the period when he had excellent grades reminded him of the significance of this era.
World War I!?
I remember that Italy betrayed the Central Powers and joined the Entente to declare war on Austria-Hungary...
...
The few remaining memories in my mind slowly emerged. Looking at Fangran standing there blankly, holding the pitchfork, the young version of 'Ling' pursed her lips.
Then she raised her head and looked at Fangran with her big light golden eyes, and organized a sentence that was relatively complicated for her bit by bit:
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "I...can...leave now...?"
The crisp young voice pulled Fangran back from the shock in an instant. Hearing the girl's words that contained a 'request', he opened his mouth and felt a little stunned.
But looking at her simple clothes and the badge on her collar, she seemed to understand something.
Just a feeling of warmth in his eyes suddenly hit him.
The Ling I know is wearing a beautiful black and white Gothic skirt, has an exquisite and almost unreal mixed-race face, and is always aloof and disdainful of everything.
A queen who would never speak in such a tone.
But what I saw in front of me was a person who might have a hard time surviving. Seeing how she was dressed, I cautiously asked her if she could leave.
A little girl who hasn't grown up yet.
He didn't expect it to be like this, he didn't expect Ling to be like this before, and he didn't expect Ling to live like this before.
Speaking of which, I don't know Ling at all.
Seeing Fangran stunned once again, the girl tightened her grip on the pitchfork slightly, and then wanted to turn around and leave.
"etc!"
Fangran's voice startled her. Even though her face was still calm, her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her.
Subconsciously he called out to the girl, and a strong feeling urged Fangran, making him urgently feel that he should do something.
But he was also anxious and panicked.
Instinctively, he groped for himself, trying to take out something, but he even forgot about the fact that the wallet Yelena gave him was thrown into the black box.
Fangran only took out a pack of compressed biscuits.
"That...this is for you!"
He tore open the package anxiously, as if he was afraid of the passers-by who would scare away the kitten on the wall. Fangran slowed down and walked to her, handed it to her and said cautiously:
"Can... tell me something else?"
The moment he saw the cookie in Fangran's hand, his big light golden eyes widened slightly, he couldn't help but swallow hard in his throat, and glanced at him quickly,
Then he stretched out his hesitant hand that might be retracted at any time, and the moment he touched the compressed biscuit and took it into his hand,
She took a big bite, and it seemed to her that the dry biscuit was some kind of delicacy. She didn't even feel the dryness, and she finished it almost quickly.
The unprecedented feeling of fullness even made her eyes light up slightly.
Fang Ran, who knew that the taste was definitely not good, kept looking at her until she finished eating and licked the crumbs from her fingers before finally suppressing the sadness that came from nowhere in her heart.
Then he slowly knelt on one knee on the dry horse grass. From this angle, he could finally look into those light golden pupils.
"Can you tell me your name?"
At the beginning of the twentieth century, in this stable somewhere in Italy,
The black-haired young man knelt on one knee and asked the girl softly, spanning a hundred years,
It's like the lonely knight in the story finally found his young queen in the vast world.
The girl's hands and feet were wrapped with cloth strips, her linen clothes were torn and old, and her light golden ponytail still had cookie crumbs left at the corner of her mouth.
This sentence seemed very familiar, as if someone had used this sentence to practice Chinese with her before. She pursed her lips and answered in silence:
"Ling, my name is Ling."
Then, still cautious, she saw this young man who came from nowhere and was dressed like a noble but kindly gave her delicious food.
When I heard myself saying this, I didn’t know why the corners of my eyes turned red and I choked slightly.
"Lingma, what a good name,"
But he tried his best to smile happily to himself:
