The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 1587 Fishing Day ([-])
When Luo Ji closed the book, she was thoughtful. She didn't know when Schiller left such a line of text. It may have been after the situation in Asgard stabilized, or earlier, but this has nothing to do with Luo Ji's beginning. The final point of view is perfectly consistent.

The doctor has an amazing brain, and Luo Ji has known this for a long time. Unlike other people, Luo Ji is more aware that those point-to-point opinions do not come from some superpower type of mind reading, but more like accurate Analysis and judgment results.

What exactly shaped his views?

The three sentences written in this book made Luo Ji more curious about this. A smart person must have a reason for being smart, and if he is as smart as Schiller, no one will believe him if he says there is no story. .

Luo Ji put the book back to its original place, and carefully erased the traces left by the just moving. She turned around and began to look at the room again.

The clinic in Hell's Kitchen itself is not big, and three rooms are crammed into the second floor, so the bedroom looks rather cramped. Even so, there are still two rows of bookshelves against the wall, a row of museum shelves, and a The desk by the window, the bed does not take up much space here.

The whole room has a woody brown tone, with some very light wood and ink smells, which should come from the books displayed on the desk, and the most impressive thing is that all the tables and shelves in the room are full of strange Quirky crafts.

In the eyes of the Asgardians, these things in the room are not considered antiques, and from the perspective of Luo Ji's taste, many of them do not have high commercial value, and are more like small items like souvenirs. Toys, even some seem to have been picked up from nowhere.

Luo Ji can already imagine in her mind that where the doctor usually goes, she will find some small things in the local store and bring them back. Luo Ji even found a few fragments of asteroids, which may be when the cosmic demon gods were fighting. The shattered star was picked up by Schiller.

Perhaps in his spare time, Schiller would recall every bit of his past from these items. When Luo Ji thought of this, she couldn't help showing a smile. This way of remembering the past is quite "human".

But if a person has a thinking tower in his mind that can store countless memory fragments, then the souvenir is actually superfluous, so this looks a bit naive and cute and clumsy, not like what a shrewd doctor would do thing.

Thinking that the demon god fight was going on in the universe at that time, and Schiller, who planned everything behind the scenes, was neither strategizing behind the scenes, nor commanding the charge at the front, but chasing after the demon god to pick up souvenirs, Luo Ji wanted to laugh.

But this also satisfies a wonderful desire for voyeurism. If you can see the private side of a well-known perfect person, it will always give people a sense of superiority that I am different.

Luo Ji is always proud, she always thinks that no matter when and where, the preferential treatment she gets is what she deserves.

Like now, she walks directly upstairs to Schiller's bedroom instead of turning away like Stark, so naturally she deserves these secrets, which are rewarded by her wisdom to make the right choice.

Luo Ji walked along the two rows of bookshelves by the wall, and she found that the books on the shelves were mainly divided into several categories, one was professional books, most of them were books on psychology and psychiatry, and the other was folk books. Miscellaneous stories, strange novels, and theoretical books related to literature, art and philosophy.

Luo Ji knew that the vast majority of human intellectuals were very interested in philosophy, and if they wanted to study psychology, it was inseparable from worldview, so it was not surprising that Schiller liked to read books on philosophy.

Just literature and art...

Luo Ji roughly glanced at the books on the bookshelf. There were quite a few literary masterpieces, including representative masterpieces from all over the world, but they couldn't see any characteristics. Luo Ji then turned her attention to art books.

What surprised Luo Ji was that the scope of art books was very narrow, almost completely excluding art forms such as music and dance, leaving only fine arts, or plastic arts.

"What do you think of art, ma'am?"

On the vast and quiet ice field, Schiller wiped off the water droplets on his hands with a sapphire blue towel. He had just put a juvenile pike perch that was not very obedient into the tank. The process was not very complicated, but It was a little dangerous, because as soon as the fish took the bait, it knocked the cigarette out of Natasha's hand with its strong and powerful tail.

The side of the female agent's right hand is still red, but she has already pulled out another cigarette like a hungry addict, and she puts the end of the cigarette in her mouth like a hungry addict, biting the cigarette with her teeth , said vaguely.

"What kind of art do you mean? I do ballet and I'm even pretty good at it, but I don't think that's art, at least not to me."

"Russia's ballet art is world-famous." Schiller said noncommittally: "It's different from French ballet. It's not like a circle of decorative lace sewed on the edge of the era of materialism by the extravagant celebrities. It's like a powerful announcement of snow and storm."

Natasha raised her eyes slightly in surprise, but quickly put her eyes back on her fishing rod, and then said: "I would like to accept your compliment for the Russian ballerinas, but you actually You know I don't do ballet for art, do you?"

"For deduction? Art is mostly deduction."

"That sounds very insightful, but I've never heard of you having any art education background or related hobbies, doctor." Natasha paused as if searching for memory, and then added: "You never seem to go to the opera house or buy records."

Schiller nodded and said, "But you probably don't know that I can draw because I never did until the day before we set off."

Now Natasha was a little surprised. She was sure that the people around Schiele, those friends who had been dealing with him every day without looking up, did not know that Schiele could still paint.

Natasha felt that her interest had become high, and she had some extra curiosity from completing the task of inquiring about Schiller's past, and art was actually a topic she could talk about quite eloquently.

"I once visited the art gallery of the Repin Academy of Fine Arts." Natasha gently wiped off the frost that had condensed on the tip of her chin with the back of her hand that was still a little red, and said while recalling: "That is not the same as American or European art. There is a huge difference, as Nick said, Russian art always contains a kind of vitality that comes from suffering, and artificiality and moaning without illness are not the main theme here."

"Suffering doesn't necessarily shape personality, but it often shapes art."

"Suffering shapes art?" Natasha read this sentence on the tip of her tongue, swallowed the leading question she was going to ask next, and asked another more philosophical question: "What is suffering? How is art shaped?"

Schiller lifted his back from the back of the chair and sat up straight, then sat back, leaned forward again, reached out and fiddled with the shaft of the fishing rod, and said: "The sad and cold colors that come from suffering are always reminiscent of death, And life and death are the main themes of all art."

Natasha felt that this answer was a bit banal, and it didn't sound as amazing to her as before, but then she heard Schiller say: "Forgive me for not answering this question better, ma'am, because if you want to be more A good argument has to start with you."

Natasha was stunned for a moment before she understood what Schiller meant. She had to take a puff of cigarette vigorously, and then exhaled forcefully to cover her sight.

She pulled the sides of her upper lip upwards, and said, "Doctor, all your actions in the past combined together did not bring me as much pressure as it does now."

"Because you still call me doctor, I have to remind you that your lungs are about to be burned by cigarettes, and you haven't caught a single fish yet."

"It's almost there." Natasha turned the axle of the fishing rod violently to lift the fishing line as if she was venting her anger, reached out and grabbed the bait dangling in mid-air, and planned to replace it with a new one.

"I knew nothing good would come here with you!" Natasha took another puff of smoke, pressed the remaining cigarette butt on the ice and threw it aside, and Schiller just looked at it a little funny Looking at her is like watching a ballet performance.

Natasha decided not to speak, and this female agent is always able to faithfully implement every decision of her own. She plans to implement it until the noon dinner. If Nick and Steve don't catch a fish, they will laugh at them Would be a nice new topic.

But at this time she heard Schiller say again: "Charles should have told you about my experience before college, do you want to hear what happened after that?"

Natasha was on the verge of covering her forehead, and she felt that she had to have another cigarette, because she really couldn't help nodding, and at the same time knew very well that Schiele was by no means just trying to tell his own story.

The truth is a sweet bait—Natasha only now understands the true meaning of this sentence. What good is it to know Schiller?What use is this truth?In order to complete the task?But this is actually not a task, it's just that Nick mentioned it casually, and Natasha saw that his work was not easy, so she just wanted to do her old boss a favor.

"Okay, doctor, I really can't imagine the scene when you were a humble student, can you describe it in detail?"

Schiller shook his head and said, "Actually, none of the factors in my schooling process can be called modesty, or it can be directly said to be the opposite of modesty."

"Then why are you going to college?"

"Because this is the expectation of others." Schiller also pulled the fishing line up to replace the not-so-fresh bait, and said while he was busy: "This is a result that can make everyone happy, so I went .”

"I thought that there would always be some surprises in the long four years of life so that I would not regret my original decision, but it turned out that I was wrong. The whole college life was boring as hell."

Natasha was surprised to find that she actually saw a trace of remorse on Schiller's face, which was so childish that he didn't look like him at all.

As we all know, Dr. Schiller is a person who will never regret, or there is no room for him to regret. After all, he has already arranged everything ahead, and all the results are within expectations. I regret it.

Natasha was really curious, so she leaned forward and asked tentatively: "At that time, you weren't you, weren't you... a doctor?"

"I'm almost here," Schiller said reassuringly, and when he put the hook back in the water, he paused before saying, "What was it like when you first came to America?"

Natasha didn't expect him to ask this question, and she was stunned for a few seconds before realizing what topic Schiller was going to talk about, so she answered like a throwing brick.

"No expectations, had to come, in a hurry, pray that everything goes well, and that I can get out of here as soon as I'm done."

"I'm the exact opposite of you. I'm full of interest and anticipation."

(End of this chapter)