It seems that I am re-understanding this town inch by inch.

But the longer he was, the more disappointed he became, and the more silent he became.

In the fourth year after marriage, he and Amanda had their first child, a girl.

By the way, Roger thought that this girl could only be called Adela.

Then there is the second and third one.

Work and family life make him one of the most common people.

He no longer walks alone, covering up all his emotions.

Like many husbands and fathers, he gave everything to this family.

Twenty years have passed.

Roger held an umbrella and the rain hit him. At this time, his sideburns were gray, and some moisture made him feel cold.

He looked solemn, watching Sheng Fang's coffin be buried, and the tombstone was engraved by him.

Henrik.

A pure scholar.

A gentleman who is self-disciplined.

A great teacher.

Roger was silent.

Although he is world-renowned, Henrik never lived close to women in his life and did not leave any descendants. Except for part of his legacy, most of his remaining estate was left to Roger.

A month later, he attended another funeral, and this time he died was Anderin.

She walked peacefully, Amanda was particularly sad, but Roger was surprisingly calm.

He did not leave the house for the next month.

When he appeared again, he turned off all his work and stayed away from his current life.

The child had grown up, and he walked into the woods and stepped into the cottage that had been away for many years.

No one repaired it, and the house had collapsed at this time and was covered with weeds. But facing these dilapidated, Roger showed the most relaxed smile in nearly twenty years.

Cut wood and chop firewood.

A jingling sound soon came from the woods.

He is getting older and his physical strength is no longer as strong as before, but Roger still seriously builds his own cottage.

This process lasted for a whole summer.

When the weather became colder and the sea breeze brought coldness on the other side, Roger created the first fire in his hut.

He couldn't tell why, and the ever-present suppression made him unable to let go.

Looking at the orange-red flames, Roger covered his face and cried bitterly in the deserted hut.

Although he has a life envied by countless people, all of this seems to be arranged, the right person and the right time.

It's like a drama with him as the protagonist of the stage.

From that day on, he never stayed away from the cottage.

He attracted water, irrigated the fields in front of the door, and from time to time he would hunt a few small animals from the bushes behind him.

Not with a gun, but an ancient-looking bow.

He even raised a horse, rode a vine, sat in the shade of trees in summer and huddled by the fireplace to keep warm in winter.

Whenever it snows, it is Roger's happiest time.

The world was covered with whiteness, and there was no sound around it, as if only my heartbeat was left.

The world is far away and close to you.

So one day, Roger, who was old, suddenly straightened his back, the doubts on his face disappeared, and a sharp light shot out from his eyes.

It was also from that day that Roger stopped aging.

Time passed, and it seemed that the world was left with only this small town, only this forest, only the last hut and an old man.

So Roger raised his head and asked in an unknown direction.

"When will you sleep with me?"

"Is this kind of life imperfect?"

What's strange is that Roger's question was answered.

The sound was strange, like the friction of the leaves around it, like the splashing water splashing by the stream, coming from the horizon and sounding from the bottom of my heart.

“It’s a perfect life.”

"But not mine."

Roger slowly leaned back and then slowly closed his eyes.

After a long time, he let out his last breath and opened his eyes again.

So the world is broken.
Chapter completed!