My Boss, the White-haired Nun

Walter just smiled awkwardly.

"So, let's talk." The man raised his hand and pressed against the side of the man's arm, "It's rare that I'm in the mood to untie you. Wouldn't it make me happy not to tell your story?"

"Your statement makes people feel very unwilling to share it with you!" Walter couldn't help complaining.

"But..." The silver-haired man showed a lazy smile. "You actually need someone to confide in, right? Someone who has no position, nothing to do, and a bystander to confide in. If I don't show up here, you have to find someone to confide in, right? A passer-by? A stone statue? Or something Wildflowers and weeds?"

"You can be vague, anyway, I don't know who you are, do I?"

"..." Walter fell into silence again, clenched his fists, and the man didn't seem to be in a hurry, as if his time was incomparably plentiful, or simply all time was meaningless, leaving only It's like waiting to die in a certain battle.

"I..." After hesitating for a moment, Walter finally chose to speak. "Meet some options."

He bit his lip, as if he was considering his words, or hesitating whether to continue speaking after every word.But maybe he really needed someone to confide in, maybe because he really felt something called a sense of security from that man, he finally chose a rather vague way of saying it.

"About...whether to take...some responsibilities...and, how to take some responsibilities..."

He stammered his words, the words were intermittent, the meaning was vague and obscure, but the deep tiredness and confusion were revealed from every syllable and tone of the words.With slow hesitation and silence.

"There are a lot of people asking me to make a choice now. They seem to be very tolerant and tell me that no matter what I choose, it is a good choice as long as I follow my heart." He showed a mocking smile.

"But everyone has a position on the issue, everyone is stressing to me how bad it would be if I didn't choose the choice he wanted me to take, and everyone has a position they want me to choose. The answer, but I don't have..."

He lowered his head and hugged his head.Grabbing his hair with both hands, he curled up, unable to see his expression clearly.

"That's it..." The silver-haired man beside him was smoking a cigarette, looking at the snowy sky above his head, and nodded slightly. "Responsibility? It is indeed a very troublesome question."

Walter looked at him.

"How should I put it, about this issue... Well, let me give you an example of myself." He took a final puff of the cigarette with only the butt left in his hand, and said with a smile to Walter. "At first I thought that responsibility is something that comes with the blood, because when I was young, when I was educated, everyone told me so, telling me that I have been born since the day I was born. Bearing responsibility is both an honor and a curse from which you can never escape."

"But..." He looked at the completely burnt cigarette in his hand with some distress, and raised his hand to reach the remaining filter tip into a dustbin in the distance. "Later, I began to question this question. It is obvious that the same personality, the same soul, and the same innocence came to this world. Why should I take the responsibility for doing that? I began to question the person who taught me the truth, I began to rebel, I began to disobey his arrangements, I began to resist action..."

When he said this, there was a look of reminiscence in his eyes, and the cloudy eyes that seemed to be blind before also brightened up, as if they were dozens of years younger in an instant.

"What happened next?" Walter couldn't help asking when he saw this.

"Later..." The silver-haired man repeated these two words, and suddenly turned around to look at Walter beside him and asked. "A question for you. Do you think..."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Right and wrong in this world, black and white, has always been there objectively, or is it wrong because someone taught you that it is wrong, and it is right when you teach it ?”

-------------Chapter Dividing Line---------------

"Do you all like to ask questions so much?" Walter scratched his head, full of irritated anger: "Everyone is full of questions, why do you have so many questions to ask? What is it like to be confused? Isn't it a clear and obvious thing for people?"

"Maybe yes for those who pay attention to you." The silver-haired middle-aged man said with a smile. "But I'm just a passer-by, so... If this question doesn't bother you as much as those people's questions, why don't you try to answer it?"

"..."

Varta looked straight at the lazy man, his eyes were full of annoyance as if he had been touched by some sore spot, but the man just looked up at the sky leisurely like before and watched the snowflakes falling from the sky, and even said Also played a ditty.

He really didn't seem to care about Walter's answer.

"What you want me to say..." Walter looked at his indifferent face, gritted his teeth and said, "Then it must not exist objectively. There is no absolute right or wrong between everything. Right and wrong are like It is the terms of the law. Since it is written by people, it should be judged by people whether it is right or wrong and whether it needs to be changed. At this time, the correct future may not be still correct, and the wrong future may not be still wrong at this time. Even every individual's judgment of right and wrong is biased, how can such a thing exist objectively!"

"Since you know it doesn't exist objectively." The silver-haired man looked at him and said with a smile. "So for you, what is the basis for judging whether something is right or wrong?"

"Of course it's my own thought..." Walter blurted out, but before he finished speaking, he stopped abruptly.

"Hmm~" the silver-haired man snorted proudly, "It seems that you have already realized where the problem is."

"..." The black-haired boy remained silent for a while, and then suddenly showed an angry expression. "If you say that, isn't it completely indistinguishable from nonsense?"

"That's not the case... buddy." The middle-aged man leaned against the lamppost behind him, fine snowflakes fell on his face, forehead, and the messy stubble on his chin, his eyes were cloudy, as if A blind man who has lost his sight.

"A person once asked me a question that was almost nonsense." He turned his head and looked at Walter beside him. "Can a person guarantee that every decision he makes is correct?"

"My answer is, of course not."

"So he asked me with a smile, why should we be afraid to make a decision, since mistakes are bound to be made anyway, so fear can help solve the problem?"

"..." Walter was silent.

"There are only two things in this world that are really conducive to solving problems. One is to bear the mistakes you made after making a mistake. The other is to try to make your decision more correct before making a decision."

"As for how to make my decision more correct." He looked at the anxious face of the black-haired boy in front of him, deliberately slowed down his tone, and didn't smile until he saw a clear impatient expression on his face. He shook his head and said. "It's nothing more than two methods, one is to use the information you want to get yourself, and the other is to get more information."

"A problem in reality is always multi-faceted, and it is not easy to draw conclusions like those simple assumptions, so the more you know about a problem, the more information you have, and the more clear you are about the problem The answer. And this process is actually very easy to lose yourself, because if you are induced to understand too much [truth] in a certain aspect and ignore the [truth] in other aspects, it is easy to go extreme. "

"If you don't know how to choose, then you might as well look more, wait, learn more, grasp something that can give you enough confidence, and then make your [decision]."

The silver-haired man turned sideways, faced the man beside him, looked into his blank eyes, stretched out his arm, and lightly touched his chest through his clothes.

Walter lowered his head, and what he saw was a hand with distinct bones, dark brown skin, and covered with wrinkles, scars, and even dirt. That hand stretched out a finger and pointed at the left side of his chest. The thick clothes felt a subtle touch on his skin.

And where that hand was pointing, beneath the bones and skin, was his beating heart.

"The point of this matter is not actually what you see in the process of understanding, but in the process, you will gradually understand your true heart."

The silver-haired man chuckled, and his smile was filled with the shadow of someone from the past.

"...Then what did you choose in the end, the one you mentioned earlier, is your [decision]?"

After a moment of silence, Walter seemed to be freed from the previous distress, and asked softly to the man in front of him.

"Is it my [decision]?" The gray-haired man was taken aback for a moment, then laughed dumbly. "That's not an inspirational choice, are you sure you want to listen?"