Silent Crown Chapter 216: Long one night

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　　 One night later, Ye Qingxuan looked at the same humiliated Shire full of resentment.

　　

　　 zhà sixteen times a night, where is such an outrageous thing? Besides, the two of them are so much better in music theory than the other students that they don't know where to go.

　　

　　 Then it could only be Shire’s pot.

　　

　　 "Well, blame me."

　　

　　 Charles opened his mouth and sprayed a burst of white smoke: "When I test next time, I will stand in the corner..."

　　

　　 "I think my ears will be deaf if it blows up. Let's go to sleep." Ye Qingxuan yawned, feeling exhausted.

　　

　　 "I have been waiting for your sentence for two days."

　　

　　 Charles laughed, then fell softly to the ground, and soon, snoring sounded.

　　

　　 Ye Qingxuan sighed and covered him with a dust-proof blanket. He climbed onto the broken sofa full of parts. He didn’t care whether it was clean or not. He just closed his eyes and couldn’t sleep. Province personnel.

　　

　　In the early shàng, Bai Xi kicked down the door and saw the two people sleep until the sky was dark, so he curled his lips boredly, and drew a big tortoise on the faces of each of them, but hòu took Old Fei out.

　　

　　 Today is the time to go once a week.

　　

　　 When Abraham came down at noon, he saw that the two men were still awake, shaking their heads and smiling bitterly. After inspecting the movement written by the two men, he made a few small changes and left a note. , Also hurried out to report to the military department.

　　

　　In the afternoon, it is rare that a visitor rang a person from the music history department-

　　

　　 "Anyone?"

　　

　　Bart was outside the door, knocking patiently on the door, the third time, there was still no response.

　　

　　 There was silence in the old small building, as if no one was there. He frowned and knocked **** the door. The door creaked...opened.

　　

　　 "Anyone?"

　　

　　 He probed carefully, took a look, saw the cracks on the wall, the peeling wall skin in the corner, and frowned: What the **** is this place.

　　

　　 There is still a hint of wine in the air, making Bart’s face more ugly: Have these guys fallen to drinking for fun?

　　

　　Musicians need absolute calm and concentration. Drinking is almost suicidal...

　　

　　 He pinched his nostrils and walked into the living room, which was empty. He waited for a while, but still no one came. Finally, he became impatient and got up angrily, feeling that he was spending time.

　　

　　 coming here to bow to the Music History Department is the limit he can tolerate, but now after such a long time has passed, it is like a humiliation.

　　

　　 He stopped waiting and pushed Abraham's study away. I pulled a piece of paper and left a note for my visit on the next day, as well as the teacher's business card.

　　

　　 "Huh, music history department."

　　

　　 Bart gave a cold snort, and finally swept the messy study room, turned and left, but just after walking two parts, his footsteps stopped, and his body stiffened in place.

　　

　　 seems to have finally reacted. Turning his head in astonishment, looked at the table...the stack of manuscripts on the table.

　　

　　 is in place. He hesitated for a long time, finally mustered up the courage, carefully opened the stack of manuscript paper, and quickly flipped through it.

　　

　　 The more you look at his complexion, the more ugly.

　　

　　 In the end, he dared not look again, and directly lifted the ring on his finger. I started recording quickly, and I was in a hurry, and when I was still a few shots away, I suddenly heard movement from the basement.

　　

　　 His fingers trembled and quickly restored everything to its original state. He picked up the note he had left and put it away, carefully erasing the traces that he had been here before, and finally opened the door silently, and ran away as if running away.

　　

　　 Under the hot afternoon sun, Bart ran wildly, like he had seen a ghost, stumbled, and muttered to himself: "How is this possible, how is this possible, how is this possible......"

　　

　　"——How is this possible?"——

　　

　　"How is this possible?"

　　

　　 In the office, Ingmar looked at Bart’s recorded video with a sullen expression, comparing it to his manuscript.

　　

　　 over and over again, over and over again, over and over again... Every time I look at it, my complexion becomes more and more ugly, until finally he overturns the table like crazy and yells at Bart:

　　

　　 "How is this possible?! How could it be that I made a mistake?!"

　　

　　 An invisible storm enveloped the room, and all the objects trembled frantically, making noises that were on the verge of breaking, until they finally fell to the ground.

　　

　　Bart stood in the corner, chilling, afraid to make any noise.

　　

　　 He is only fortunate that he is an apocalyptic faction and is not good at destructive power. If Yegor is angry here today, I am afraid the entire office has been burned to ashes.

　　

　　 for a long time, until after a long time, Ingmar finally calmed down.

　　

　　 For the last time, he looked at his manuscript and turned it page by page. After each page was turned, the page was broken, silently falling apart, and sprinkled on Ingmar’s robe one after another. Like the ashes after being burned out.

　　

　　 Until the end, Ingmar seemed to be sitting in pale ashes, with nothing in his hands, but his face pale as bones and dead ashes.

　　

　　 "It turns out that I really went the wrong way..."

　　

　　 He whispered in a low voice, his hands trembling, and blue veins burst out on his forehead, and his voice was crying: "Why am I wrong? Why me?

　　

　　why——"

　　

　　Bart was stunned. He heard the sound of his heartbeat. It was his teacher's heartbeat. It was extremely loud and deep, like the sound of drums.

　　

　　 The drum sound became more and more urgent, faster and faster, pulling him into it, as if seeing a rotating starry sky, but the starry sky was trembling crazily, extinguishing one by one.

　　

　　Bart finally reacted, his face pale.

　　

　　The heart sound collapsed. This is a precursor to the collapse of the heart sound.

　　

　　 He rushed forward and shook the teacher's shoulder vigorously to make him sober, but Ingmar was dumbfounded and did not respond at all. In the end, a trace of determination flashed in Bart's eyes, gritted his teeth, grabbed Ingmar's palm, and suddenly ordered a sharp pen.

　　

　　 collapse!

　　

　　The gas burst suddenly.

　　

　　 His whole body was bounced by Ingmar's back shock, and he slapped it on the wall, his eyes went dark, he spit out a mouthful of blood, and his arm was broken.

　　

　　 The entire office was in a mess, and the police in the teaching building made loud noises. Everyone was in a panic, but soon the alarm bell disappeared without a trace.

　　

　　 Everything in the entire office was pulled back to its original position by invisible force, the broken vase was bridged, the torn carpet was reorganized, and the hanging paintings broken into powder on the wall resurfaced from the dust.

　　

　　 Everything is like nothing happened.

　　

　　Only Ingmar was sitting in the original position. His eyes regained his senses, and his body was soaked with cold sweat. Without any pain from being nailed to the table, he indifferently pulled out the pen nailed to the back of his hand. Looking at Bart, Bart's broken bones continued, and his sanity regained consciousness.

　　

　　Until now, he didn't know what just happened.

　　

　　 "Bart, you are a good student. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid I would have been given by that fellow Abraham..."

　　

　　 He gritted his teeth. He looked like a beast with a sullen expression, spreading medicine on his palm, and finally put on a glove to cover up the wound.

　　

　　Bart's lingering fear remained, and he stammered in response.

　　

　　 "You told me that when you went to the Music History Department, you weren't spotted, right?" Ingmar's eyes flashed with determination and cruelty: "Are you sure?"

　　

　　Bart was taken aback, as if he understood something. His face became paler. Under Ingmar's gaze, he finally nodded vigorously.

　　

　　 "Yes. No one knows where I have been..."

　　

　　 "Very good."

　　

　　 Ingmar smiled suddenly, her pale face was full of incongruity, and it was creepy: "Wait, you come with me to the Musician Guild."

　　

　　Bart’s guess was finally settled, looking terrified. "If they find out...will you let it go?"

　　

　　 "You are still too young, Bart. Too young, too naive..."

　　

　　 Ingmar raised the corner of his eyes, his pupils could only carry a trace of pity and gloom:

　　

　　"——Of course whoever publishes this kind of thing first. Who owns it."——

　　

　　 Late at night, a carriage stopped in front of the watch shop, and the visitors pushed in.

　　

　　"Mr. Bayer?"

　　

　　 The blond teenager drinking tea in front of the window raised his eyes and showed a look of surprise, "Guest of the Musician Guild? What a rare guest.

　　

　　 You haven't visited here since you took office. What's the matter for tonight?

　　

　　 do you want to buy something? "

　　

　　 "Forget it." Bayer waved his hand slightly and smiled bitterly: "Mr. Hermes' things, I can't afford it."

　　

　　 "Hey, don't say that."

　　

　　 Hermes shook his head, "I am famous for its high quality and low price. If you take a closer look, you can always find something you like."

　　

　　 "Actually, this time I took the liberty to come here to ask Mr. Hermes to help me identify something."

　　

　　 He sat opposite Hermes and slowly pushed a copy of a black folder over: "I think you might know something about this."

　　

　　 "Oh?"

　　

　　 Hermes raised his brows, "Is there no way for the group of experts in your association to be sure? It's really rare."

　　

　　 Bayer smiled bitterly and shook his head: "In fact, the local associations and scholars of the Holy City have turned their heads over because of this noise.

　　

　　Before I left, they were still arguing whether this thing was considered a qualified research result. "

　　

　　 "Huh? Then I'll take a look at... "Vonich Manuscript"? It's been hundreds of years, and you are really persevering. Are you still trying to translate this thing graphically?"

　　

　　 Hermes opened the folder, and quickly turned the pages of the book with his palm, looking at ten lines, not like reading, but confirming something. Until the end, his eyes became more and more subtle.

　　

　　"It’s really...interesting! Because the road ahead is gone, did you restore the text from a strange direction? Although it was a deviant path, it returned to the right direction.

　　

　　 Let me see who the author is... Ingmar? "

　　

　　His brows frowned: "I've seen this guy. To be honest, I don't believe that he has so much courage to overthrow the current theory. Is it because I missed it?"

　　

　　 A hint of joy flashed in Bayer's eyes: "So, can you be sure of the truth?"

　　

　　"Hey, of course it is true. Although the last place is obviously nonsense, but at least the direction is right."

　　

　　 Hermes said unhappily that the folder was thrown away: "Congratulations, you have found a new direction for decades of nonsense. Congratulations.

　　

　　 This time, you can pull the broken thing out again, knock it on, and celebrate.

　　

　　 But you ring the bell every Chinese New Year, are you annoying? Why can't you change to a more elegant way? "

　　

　　"Sir, don’t be kidding, that’s the bell of the sage, so naturally it should be different?"

　　

　　Bayer smiled and said, "In contrast, the gate of heaven is where the majesty of God lies, so naturally it cannot be easily shown to others."

　　

　　 "Don't compare my work with that kind of shabby." Hermes sipped disdainfully, looking extremely vulgar: "The Sage's Bell? Bah, it's obviously... it's about the same."

　　

　　 He bit those words extremely vaguely, and Bayer on the other side pretended not to hear it, and just put away the manuscript, but after hòu offered a valuable reward~IndoMTL.com~, he retired.

　　

　　 Hermes took her little finger to open the reward pocket, glanced at the crystal-like thing in it disgustingly, and shouted: "Bai Xi!"

　　

　　 "Why do you tell me?"

　　

　　Bai Xi, who was writing and copying the score, looked up from behind the counter unhappily.

　　

　　"There is an old saying in the East that says: The master has something to do, the disciple takes care of it. The master does not like this thing now, you can take it back and give it to the old fee."

　　

　　 He threw those things into Bai Xi's arms, as if thinking of something, he was suddenly shocked, and immediately showed a weird smile.

　　

　　 "Oh, my horrible association is really amazing."

　　

　　He muttered to himself: "It seems that something fun is going to happen again?"

　　

　　"——Really...I look forward to it!" (to be continued...)

　　

　　

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