Chapter 572 (1/2)

The blooming roses in Stanley Park remind Huangliang of the mountain red in his hometown. Layer by layer, piece by piece, like a spreading flame, dyed the mountain red and the sky red.

When azaleas bloom, he likes to run to the top of the mountain alone, lie in the flowers and look at the blue sky and white clouds. There are flowers under his body, flowers at his feet, flowers on his head, flowers in his hands and flowers all around him. He can feel the vitality of flowers with vigorous vitality and fire like enthusiasm.

Why do these flowers bloom so brightly? Obviously, their lives are very short!

Why are the clouds floating so leisurely in the sky? When the wind comes, they disperse!

Behind the clouds is the blue sky. What is behind the blue sky? Is there still life there?

He is obsessed with this fantasy, but it is a luxury for rural children. Only when he is completely relaxed in the brilliant flowers can he have time to think about these boring problems.

My sister always came to find him in the evening, and her warbler's voice came from the wind with the fragrance of flowers:

”Hey, brother -- where are you --”

He casually folded a flower from the flowers, pinched the flower stem, held the flower high and shook it in the air. My sister walked through the flowers like a butterfly. When she was close, she rushed over, rushed into my brother's arms, took up the dancing petals, giggled and said:

”Brother lazy, I have caught you!”

……

Huangliang seemed to have a dream. He has enough ability to distinguish between dream and reality. If the thorn of the rose didn't wake him up, he would rather live in a dream all the time.

Martha picked roses in the designated area. Although the wolfs have privileges, they can't fool around. After all, it's a public place.

Huang Liang sat down on a deserted path in the rose garden. The roses around him swayed gently in the morning wind. The fragrance of the flowers was intoxicating. He was immersed in inexplicable fantasy.

Martha's voice came from the wind:

”Huang -- where are you --”

He forgot that roses were different from YINGSHANHONG. Roses were covered with thorns. He heard the call of the warbler. Like pulling a cuckoo in the past, he grabbed a stem and held it high, but the palm of his hand was stabbed with blood.

Martha is also like a butterfly, light through the flowers, a few rose petals brought by her, followed her dress and danced in the wind.

”Aha, I found you. I thought you were gone!”

”For you,” said Huang Liang, holding the rose in his hand.

Martha's heart pounded and looked up at him bravely. The wind around suddenly stopped, and the color and fragrance of all the roses solidified in the distance, leaving only the one in his hand, gorgeous, like the fire in the sky, and stained with blood like flowers and colors.

She took the rose from his hand and suddenly saw the blood oozing from his palm flowing slowly down the rose stem.

”Ah, your hand is bleeding!”

Martha put the roses into the basket full of flowers, grabbed Huang Liang's hand, carefully pulled out some thorns left on her skin, gently blew a few breaths, and said anxiously:

”You have to pull out all the thorns. The administrator has tools. You need to wrap up. Come with me quickly!”

Masala took the sorghum to the Management Office of the rose garden. The administrator was an old lady. She looked at the palm of Huangliang and said, ”it's not more surprising to see someone picking roses like this for the first time, even if they were stabbed on their face! Where did you stab them, not in the public viewing area?”

Martha gently shook her head at Huang Liang and motioned him not to speak.

The old lady looked at them and said as she helped him pull out the thorn with a tool: ”Don't try to hide it from me. I know every flower here. Young people can play romance, but they should obey the rules. I was young too! Do you know why I like it here? Because my wife and I met here in Stanley Park. At that time, there were not so many roses here, only wild flowers that couldn't be named. When we met here, he picked one for me every time He also said he would build a Rose Manor for me! ”

Huang Liang asked, ”did your wife build this rose garden?”

”Here?” the old lady was stunned. ”Oh, no, no, of course not. This is a public facility. Mr. Wolff paid, so Miss Martha has the privilege of picking flowers.”

”What about your wife?”

”He has gone to see God long ago. I think he has built a rose garden in heaven, waiting for me to go!”