Ye Dezhi stood on the mahogany floor, looking up at the oil painting in front of him, with an empty nostalgia in his eyes.
"This is Te Tou's famous painting, the master's collection. I'm glad you like her." The waiter behind him explained with a smile, his face respectful and proud.
"It was originally a treasure of Great Britain. Although it was displaced several times, it finally returned to the descendants of the royal family after the Fourth World War. The fate of this painting is also excellent." Ye Dezhi agreed softly.
The battleship on the canvas has returned to its final silence, looking at the last setting sun in the distance. The rocks are hidden in the dim light, and the sea surface is unusually calm, indicating the undercurrent of the sea.
Ye Dezhi lowered his eyes. It must have been seventeen years since he first saw this painting. It was also at that time that I met Ye Xing. Later, he asked her the name of the painting, but his expression seemed to be asking her for the name of her last relative. Ye Dezhi lied.
Therefore, among all Ye Xing's notes, the painting has nothing to do with the depression of the times or the end of the hero.
Because, she told Ye Xing, the painting is
A dreadnought battleship heading home at dusk.
She never lies to him.