Chapter 56 55

【key】 The librarian drove over the hills, the road curved and descended, and the sea occasionally appeared and disappeared from sight.My breathing slowed down and my mood became calmer.I asked the old lady if it was possible to be buried here.The librarian shrugged. I have no idea.There is a cemetery in the village, it is small, but it is on the way.We can stop if you want. The librarian turns on the radio.We turned onto a dirt road when I asked him if I could borrow my phone to send a message. It was passed to France.I added.I will pay though.It's very important, otherwise I wouldn't ask

it does not matter. The librarian handed me the phone.I switched the input language to English and typed a short message to Mi Rui.As we approached a farmhouse on a hill, the librarian suddenly slowed down and pulled into a muddy driveway. I'm going to ask the old lady about it.He said: Everyone here knows each other. A farmer in orange overalls saw us and stepped out into the driveway.The librarian got out of the car.Through the windshield, I see them talking as the farmer takes off his baseball cap and wipes his forehead.The farmer looked over at me, then back at the librarian. The librarian's cell phone rang suddenly, and the screen flashed green. I picked it up from the cup holder and looked at the calling number.The country code is 33.I press answer.The signal was very weak, and Mi Rui's voice was intermittent.

Why didn't you reply to my letter?I am anxious I am in the middle of nowhere.I can barely hear you. Are you still in Iceland? Yes, but I found something.I'm about to Mi Rui sighed.Listen, Tristan, I know I've been saying the wrong things and asking you to come back for the wrong reasons.it was a mistake The phone signal was getting weaker and her voice sounded shaky.I tried to answer and finally yelled, but I guess she couldn't hear.Suddenly her voice reappeared. Meeting you at the bar, staying at my grandpa's house, finding those letters.Even if it's dangerous, I should still care about you.But now you made a mistake because you are far away from me.I want you, Tristan, but you have to want me too.

I want. Come back tonight then.It doesn't matter what the cost is.When you get here, you don't need anything. I can't make it tonight.Where I am is too remote. Then tomorrow.i will meet you at the airport Her voice disappeared again.I speak loudly into the phone. The line is about to break.But I'll be there as soon as possible. Tomorrow, she corrects me.Come on, Tristan, just figure it out.i will wait I couldn't hear what happened next.The line beeps and hangs up.I tried calling her back and it went to Icelandic voicemail.I put the phone back on the cup holder and rub my face with my hands.The farmer outside was talking and waving his hand in a certain direction, obviously showing the way.Finally, the librarian waved his hand and went back to the car.

I don't know if the farmer was talking about the same woman.He said her name was Ostberg, which must have been a Swedish name. The librarian smiled and tilted his head slightly, looking amused.He started the engine and turned the car around.We're back on the road, the gravel rattling under the car's chassis. He said the old lady was still alive. alive? According to him, she lived about ten kilometers from here, in the next fjord to the north. I sat up straight in my seat and almost yelled back at him. This is impossible.She should have died decades ago. I guess so.But Osborne sounds familiar

I shook my head, the dizzy, nauseous feeling coming back. Absolutely impossible.If she had been seventy thirty years ago, she must be over a hundred now.This is unreasonable. The librarian shrugged.He said she was very old.Anyway, it's not far from here.Let's find out for ourselves. It must be someone else. The librarian turns onto a dirt road and shifts into a low gear.This is the road taken by the old tractor, with large stones scattered here and there.We moved slowly over the bumpy road, the car lurched left and right, the suspension creaked.My arms are shaking. don’t worry.The librarian said: We're almost there.

The road curves through valleys and drops suddenly towards the sea.I opened the car window a little, watching the rising waves on the shore. I can't concentrate at all.I wondered what crazy force was able to create all this, so that the mysterious intertwined plot finally turned into a dirt road that brought me to Iceland.This is impossible.It is tantamount to concentrating all the constellations, funneling countless stars into a cup, then pouring it out, rolling a pair of sixes, and it's the same a million times in a row. But it happened.I have seen the proof and hold it in my hand.And this happens all the time, because if any two people want to meet, it must happen through the same calculation arrangement.Even if that's unlikely, maybe it's because my own horizons are too narrow.Mi Rui said that this matter may not end.But if I can find the ending, will I be able to lift the veil, reach the commanding heights, and see that something is as simple as that, the purest arrangement?

The car entered a steep fjord.The narrow inlet was flanked by dark mountains, and at the bottom was a black sand beach with white foam on the shore.The librarian pointed to the fjord. There. The house is beside the long and narrow water surface, and the ebbing sea water is just outside the window.The milky yellow plastic exterior wall panels are very clean.There is a nice garden and a wooden porch.A small waterfall gushed down the cliff behind the house and into a stream that ran around the grounds.The cliffs above were shrouded in mist. We turned onto a smooth gravel drive and the car stopped bouncing.The front door of the house opened.Someone saw us coming.

An older lady comes to the porch with her forearms inside her apron.She didn't smile or greet us.The librarian parked his car and turned to look at me. Want me to go with you? I may need someone to translate. We got out of the car.The librarian introduces herself to the woman.Their conversation was brief and hesitant.The old woman walked into the house, leaving the door open behind her. She is a caregiver.The librarian said: She invited us in. The living room was unfurnished and spotlessly clean.We hung our coats on the coat rack and sat at a dining table.The librarian talked to the nurse for a while, his hands folded unnaturally in his lap.Then the nurse suddenly spoke English to me.I can't tell where her accent is from.

Excuse me.She said: "I thought you could speak Icelandic.Want some coffee? The woman went into the kitchen and came back with two cups of coffee and a plate of stale biscuits.I gulped down the sour coffee and crushed the biscuits with my molars.The librarian and the nurse are still talking.She turned to look at me. I understand you're here to see Ms. Osborne.But she is currently resting.Can you come back some other time? I told the caretaker that it would be difficult to come here again because I don't live in the country and I don't have a place nearby.Then I explained that I was investigating a woman whose name was Yin Mozhen.Soames︱Anderson.The nurse stared at me, even if she had heard the name, she couldn't tell.

I have never heard of this name.She said: Ms. Osborne might be able to help you though.Maybe I can wake her up.It would be a pity to miss her, since you came from so far away.We rarely have visitors yet. The caretaker excused us and went into the hallway.The librarian turned to look at me, his eyes wide and bright. I don't think you should go in.Even if it was really her, you wouldn't get that money.let's get out of here The nurse is back. Miss Osborne woke up.You can see her now, but she wants you to talk in her bedroom. I stood up and glanced at the librarian, but he just shook his head slightly with a strange expression on his face. Her English is very good.The nurse said: So you don't need someone to help translate.It's the door at the end of the corridor. I thanked her and started down the corridor.The woman waved me to stop. I forgot to tell you.Her door is locked.You have to open it from the outside with a key. The orderly handed me an iron key from the front pocket of my apron.It was a cylindrical key, about as wide as the palm of my hand, with a long handle and a machined tooth on the end.A long ribbon is tied through the hole. I enter a dimly lit hallway.The wooden floors were polished smooth.I passed the closed doors on both sides of the corridor and came to the last door.The key is in my hand. I hesitated at the door.Then I saw a light shining on my top, a tiny yellow beam.I waved in the shadows, and the light settled on my wrist.It came through the keyhole.I inserted the key into the metal hole and felt the deadbolt slide smoothly.Not much, I thought, and not much. I walked in.