He played intimately with the swan and loved him with all his heart.

But it was dawn, and he had to go back to the suffocating palace for a boring ball.

To his surprise, he saw his beloved swan again at the ball. The other party was dressed in black and was still as elegant and charming.

He wanted to come forward, but the swan didn't know him, turned his head and made out with his mother.

The prince was completely devastated. His heart was broken, and the last thing he cared about in the world was gone.

Back in the bedroom, the prince lay on the high bed, reaching out in pain to reach for the fantasy swan in the hope of redemption. But the swan finally failed to appear heroically again. He was attacked by the geese and fell down with scars at the climax of the music, and the prince lowered his hand for help after that.

The queen was devastated when she found out that her son died, and in the mirror symbolizing the illusion, the prince was held in the arms of a swan, and his soul finally rested in peace.

The curtain was closed, and the mood was still shaking. Some applause came from the audience one after another. When the curtain opened again, a group of dancers called the curtain, and the audience recovered their hearts.

On the way to the parking lot, my mood was still not fully recovered, and my mind was full of the prince and the swan.

All beauty is but an illusion, and cold depression is the cruel reality.

In the hallucination, the swan loves the prince. But in reality, he doesn't care about him at all.

According to Hegel, tragedy is the highest peak of literary art, while Schopenhauer believes that music should stand at the top of aesthetics. Combining the two, tonight's tragic ballet can be said to be the pinnacle of art.

As soon as the engine was started, Shang Muxiao's call came. The sound was a little drunk, and the surroundings were very noisy. It should be that the birthday party has not yet ended.

"Teacher, come and pick me up..." His voice was somber that he could smell alcohol through the phone, "I've been drinking, so I can't drive."

I looked at the time, it was already twelve o'clock.

"Where are you?"

He reported an address, which happened to be not far from the Grand Theater, and drove for at most half an hour.

"Wait, I'll be there in about half an hour."

He smiled inexplicably: "Okay, I'll wait for you."

After a moment of silence, no one hung up.

I simply connected the car's bluetooth and talked to him while driving.

"Why do you drink so much?"

"They kept pouring me." He seemed to change his posture, and there was a rustling sound, "Actually, I only drank two or three glasses, but I don't know what kind of wine was mixed in one of them, and I felt very uncomfortable when I drank it. Nausea, I feel like throwing up now."

"How can you mix the wine, you are too stupid."

"It's them who come here, I'm very good."

In this way, we chatted with each other all the way. When we were about to reach the place, a uniform countdown suddenly sounded on the other end of the phone.

"10, 9, 8, 7..."

Shang Muxiao and I didn't speak to anyone for a while. When the countdown reached the last second, I said, "Merry Christmas."

After a while he said, "Merry Christmas."

The bar is just ahead, I leaned to the side of the road and flashed a double flash, and said, "I'm here, come out."

Shang Muxiao said "um", didn't hang up, but didn't make a sound again, listening to the movement, he should be walking towards the door with his mobile phone.

"Hey, where are you going? Do you want to take the opportunity to get away?" Zhou Yanyi's voice suddenly appeared.

Shang Muxiao was a little impatient: "Slip off, go home and sleep. Get out of the way."

Zhou Yanyi was surprised: "It's so early? It's only twelve o'clock now? Didn't you make an appointment with someone? Could it be... Beibei? You really can go down..."

The phone is cut off here.

About five minutes later, Shang Muxiao pushed out the door from the bar.

As soon as he got in, the car was full of alcohol.

I handed him the mineral water I had in the car, and he took it, but instead of drinking it, he just put it on his face.

"It's hot." He tugged at the collar of his sweater and opened the window, which I quickly raised again.

He frowned and looked at me, his cheeks slightly red: "What are you doing?"

I turned off the heating and said, "It's easy to catch cold with cold air. I turned off the air conditioner, and it won't be hot in a while."

He stared at me as if flowers suddenly grew on my face, looked up and down seriously, and didn't speak for a long time.

I just treated him as a drunk, ignored him, and drove as usual.

"Beida, has anyone ever said that you are very suitable for crying?" He raised his hand and touched my face, rubbing the corners of his eyes with his fingertips, "You look so beautiful when you cry."

My ears were slightly hot, and I opened his hand and scolded, "Don't make trouble."

Drunk people never feel like they're making a fuss. The more you tell him to stop making trouble, the more he makes trouble for you.

"Every time you cry, I'm very weird." He simply leaned in, no longer using his hands, but touching the corners of my eyes with his lips.

His lips were dry and soft, with a faint smell of wine.

"I want you to cry, but I don't want you to cry." After that, I felt that the corners of my eyes were wet, but Shang Muxiao licked them.

I turned my head to avoid it, and couldn't resist: "Don't..."

Before the word "cao" could be said, he turned to my ear, kissing and biting, too sticky.

I pursed my lips tightly and stopped talking, for fear of making a strange sound when I opened my mouth.

Fortunately, there were few cars in the middle of the night, so was able to concentrate and drive home smoothly. It was just that when he got off the car, the ear on the right had been bitten by Shang Muxiao and was wet and hot.

The wind from somewhere in the parking garage made people's noses go numb.

When Shang Muxiao got out of the car, he settled down, and when he entered the elevator, he just leaned on the side and closed his eyes to rest.

Afraid that he would vomit, I asked him to take a bath first when I got home, and I went into the kitchen to make soup for him to sober up.

When Tang Chong came out to take a look, he found that he was lying on the sofa with his arms covering his eyes and motionless.