[Comprehensive Classics] Traveled all over Europe to demolish CP

Chapter36 two kisses, a birthday gift!

Madame Marguerite Gautier, the queen of fashion, is used to receiving business partners in Box No. [-] of the People's Theater.

After the first act, if she is willing to give up the enjoyment of art and entertainment and get up and invite you to a certain restaurant for dinner, then congratulations, in all likelihood, the deal can be negotiated.If this queen who is always at the forefront of fashion in Paris flicks her fan and chooses to spend the night with you in a private box j□j—then I am very sorry, you have been cannon fodder for glory—please hurry up and enjoy Space alone with the queen, you will never have a similar opportunity again.

Men are flocking to her, and Weibo beauty is willing to lose everything with a smile;

Women regard her as a god, her dress is regarded as a standard, and her every move is imitated;

Publishers approached Margaret to write her biography...

Nima, you are going to ask me to tell you, "I was tricked by a man into a sex worker industry at the age of 14. At the age of 16, I ran into an old duke holding golden thighs, and then the journey went smoothly and the golden fingers opened", or you still want to listen to "I am a A steamed stuffed bun from the 21st century has been tortured into this glamorous and noble virtue in the uninterrupted and irregular time travel"?

She had no choice but to say in the most polite and firm manner: "I never wait for successful people to write autobiographies, gentlemen, because behind all success there is a shadow of luck. The sun just happens to hit you in the face However, I have to spend a long speech to express that "I have studied the laws of the movement of stars, the transformation of the sun, the moon and the stars, the angle of the sun's return, and the area covered by clouds. It is comparable to the possession of Columbus, Galileo and Newton at the same time. You can see the sun with your palm-sized face!'——God, is it so difficult to bow your head and say thank you to fate?"

The queen fired a map cannon angrily, and the "successful people" fell to the ground one after another, their knees were smashed into sieves, and their faces were covered with blood and tears.

——That’s right, at this time, Margaret no longer has to give in to social norms as before——There are only two kinds of people in this world who don’t take social norms seriously, and one is a snake Mentally ill, a class of people are gods and goddesses.

Although Margaret is reluctant to claim to be regarded as a goddess-at least it is much better than being the former type of person.

She often feels dumbfounded—it took so many years, expended so much energy, went through so many hardships and ups and downs, constantly compromised, tolerated and tolerated, and finally grew and evolved from an ignorant literary freshman to a well-cooked The Indian Solid Ball——After she completed this historic transformation, Margaret suddenly realized that she could completely ignore social norms and do whatever she wanted like a child.

Although it is a qualitative leap full of philosophical color from "seeing mountains as mountains, seeing water as water" to "seeing mountains as mountains, seeing water as water" and then to "seeing mountains as mountains, seeing water as water", Margery Te still couldn't help complaining: in time, she will definitely cultivate into a greater philosopher than little Mary!

Margaret, who is valiant and high-spirited, is walking on the road of an extraordinary and refined philosopher, and decides to use the beauty of the world to bring herself back to the mortal world and get down to earth.

Like, go see the gypsy wandering circus that's been hitting town lately?

Together with her maid, Julie, Marguerite prepared the regular food for a picnic in Paris-eggs, milk, cherries and fried rabbit, all ready.Two 24-year-old young women, like a 14-year-old girl, have bright eyes and giggle coquettishly.

If the above shots are seen by Margaret's fans...they will definitely look up to the sky and shout, "My queen is not such a small family!"

The old Duke strongly urged Margaret to use his carriage and groom—needless to say, his groom would be responsible for monitoring and reporting—although Margaret never pretended to be suspicious of young men. The old man is still worried.

Margaret sang in her heart:

Dad, Dad, never mind where I go!

I have long been fearless!

Duke, Duke, don't you be jealous!

Come back to watch the sunrise with you!

Ninety-ten minutes later, the master and servant arrived at Bougival on the western outskirts of Paris and stayed at the Hotel Dawn opened by the widow Arnoux.

The scenery here is infinite and refreshing.The winding hills undulate on the right, and the tributaries of the Seine, like silver ribbons in the light, or frozen pudding, pass between the Capillon Plain and the Croissy Island.The poplars standing by the river are singing passionately, while the willows are dancing gracefully and whispering earnestly. At the end of the line of sight is Paris under the smog.

The blue sky, flowers, lawns, fields, and the secluded paths sprinkled with gold in the dense forest make the masquerade-like Paris dilute.

Margaret wore a wide-brimmed straw hat with a thin veil that barely concealed her appearance, quietly enjoying this rare moment of leisure.

"Ma'am, ma'am!" Julie ran over excitedly, holding up her skirt, out of breath, "The gypsy circus has begun! Let's go see ma'am!"

The lawn not far away was covered with tents, and wandering gypsy entertainers were surrounded.

With the help of the groom, the master and the servant squeezed into the noisy crowd like a boiling hodgepodge, and stretched their necks to look inside.

The entertainers tried their best to perform even harder with the cheers of one wave after another.

After the fire-breathing show, a fat and strong yellow man with a face full of flesh, round and fat like an oak barrel and filled with wine like an oak barrel, with "I am a bad guy and who am I afraid of" written in every fat cell. The strong-haired man tore off the black cloth behind him, exposing the iron cage of the beast to the audience.

He raised his voice and spread his arms, not afraid of scaring people away with only four or five yellow teeth left in his mouth: "Ladies and gentlemen, if you think that the previous performance was wonderful, you are really wrong That's wrong! If you are not stingy with a louis gold coin, then the performance of the 'Undead Magician' in the tent will bring you even greater and unprecedented shock, excitement and passion!"

The circus owner is waving his arms like legs, and his voice is loud and inciting, which is comparable to the loudspeakers on the commercial street in the 21st century, "You can't buy it, you can lose money, you can't buy it, you can't be fooled".

People are scrambling to wave gold coins and banknotes, desperately tipping the gypsy woman who leads the way in order to occupy a better position. The circus owner is so happy that his fat is quivering. Margaret is really worried that if he continues to laugh like this, at last I am afraid that four or five of his teeth will abandon him.

Margaret put away her complaints, lifted her skirt, and held Julie on her arm, occupying an excellent location to watch the performance—the first row.

Then, she and her little friends (Da Wu) were stunned.

——The famous genius "Magician of the Undead" in front of him turned out to be a boy less than 12 years old.

He was thin, very slender and tall, and his tuxedo hung so loosely that it seemed as if a gust of wind could blow him away.

Even though the magician wore the iridescent and exaggerated masks common to masquerade balls, even though he was wearing a tuxedo, a top hat, and a white tie around his neck—he still couldn't hide him from Marguerite. age.

——His fingers were slender and hairless. Although the strange-shaped scars spoiled the beauty of those hands, the joints and skin still revealed the age of the owner.

Margaret, who left her back to the audience, raised her veil so that she could see the boy preparing to perform more clearly——

The graceful and slender hand that the magician extended into the air suddenly froze.

Margaret was closest to him. At this moment, she felt that the boy's breathing stopped at the moment when she raised her head, and even the soul seemed to be out of the body. There were only a pair of golden eyes burning through the gap in the mask. The flames of hell are even more terrifying and scorching...

A pair of white gloves covered those hands out of thin air, and the audience exclaimed.

It turned out to be a warm-up exercise before the performance, it scared me to death...

Margaret lowered her veil with lingering fear.

The skillful hands of the magician seem to have been obtained in exchange with the devil.They are flying in the air, constantly changing into unimaginable shapes, and breathtaking miracles appear in his hands one after another—as if his hands are directing the laws of science in the world, and performing unimaginable miracles...

What kind of hands are those!Playing cards, silk scarves and even fragile leaves that have nowhere to focus, just disappear and reappear out of thin air in his hands, changing into unimaginable dazzling variety...

——Liu Qian is a godsend, and he loves to come to learn art from a teacher!

Finally, after the magician made all the props disappear, he put his hand into the pocket of his jacket, and after a bouquet of roses appeared out of nowhere, he half-kneeled on the ground and offered the bouquet to the people sitting in the first row. Margaret.

She took the rose that had not been squeezed, and was as delicate as if it had just been picked from a dewy branch.Margaret gently lifted the corner of the veil and kissed the bouquet of flowers as delicate and tender as her lips.

The magician just knelt on one knee, staring at her obsessively with his head up.

Margaret: "..."

Even if she is one of the most beautiful women in Paris, she won't have any magic power for eleven or twelve-year-old children, right?

To be on the safe side, she took all the veil down.

The magician was still on his knees, dumbfounded, crawling around her skirt like a poor dog that erred.

Margaret: "..." Is this part of the show too?

Before I had time to consider other possibilities, there was a commotion in the auditorium:

"Take off the mask!"

"Take off your mask, you bastard bred by the devil!"

People screamed and cheered, with cruelty, curiosity, excitement and exhaustion in their voices.

"That's why we're here!"

"hurry up!"

The circus owner rushed into the tent with several people. He put his foot on the magician's thin back, and the helpers grabbed his hair and slammed his head to the ground.

The mask was knocked off, the boy turned his head away with all his strength, the boss grabbed his hair roughly, as if he wanted to tear his scalp off...

The scene in front of me was cruel, bloody and desperate like the moment before the elegant swan was slaughtered.

The boy let out a piercing roar.

His face was completely exposed to countless pairs of eyes.

The audience gave out the most intense cheers, amazed at this face that satisfies the curiosity and the dark side of the heart.The ladies screamed in fright, and the male companions hurriedly took out the bromine salt and put it under the noses of the delicate ladies, taking the opportunity to show their courtesy.The women, who are more delicate than roses, said "it's terrible" with lingering fear, while continuing to look at the stage with expressions of disgust and surprise...

No one can describe the horror of that face, just as no one can describe the hate and despair in this face.

This is not a human face, but a skeleton dug out of a pyramid that has been dried for hundreds of years.

Five black holes for eyes, nose and mouth, skin and muscle - if he had those two structures - mummified tightly against withered bones, he didn't even have lips...

Amidst the enchanted cheers, screams and effervescence, only Margaret stood upright, her cold eyes piercing the stage through the veil—she was not looking at the "dead magician" whining like a beast. ’, but the culprit of it all: the circus owner, also basking in a viciously twisted excitement.

Such scum, even if the crime is not worthy of death, it is not a pity to die!

Therefore, after the audience dispersed, the magician was stripped of his gloves and tuxedo, and pushed into the iron cage by the circus boss. Margaret didn't even frown when her neck escaped from the iron cage.

"Come to my carriage, child!" she cried in French, English, German, and Italian.

The boy was taken aback for a moment, and then rushed over like a wounded and nimble little beast.

"Ma'am, you're crazy..." Julie covered her chest with one hand, and clutched Margaret's skirt with the other, her whole body trembling like chaff.

"Shut up, Julie." The hostess's tone was so cold and severe for the first time, "Don't say anything, the gypsy is here." She lifted up the large and fluffy three-tier skirt, and whispered to the boy who was trying to bury his head to the bottom Say, "Now you have to hide under my skirt and curl up as much as you can, understand?"

Before the words finished, the boy slid into the skirt like a swimming fish.

She straightened her skirt calmly—the boy was curled up like a kitten, but she was able to shrink so small—she deliberately raised her voice, shouting like a shrew cursing the street: "God! It's terrible! Julie , let's go home quickly, I don't want to see a gypsy again in this life!"

The following gypsy: "..."

The leader embarrassingly stroked his ginger beard, coughed several times, as if he was about to sing a famous excerpt from an opera, and asked in the most polite manner he could: "I'm sorry, ma'am, we will be here soon. You disappeared before your eyes... did you see the escaped magician?"

"The little devil? God!" She tilted Julie's shoulder. "He stalked into the woods like a wild cat. He must have returned to the devil's lair. John, get out of this damn place, get away from these horrible people Gypsy!"

After hearing the hostess' order, the groom lashed at the two horses worth eight thousand francs, and quickly disappeared on the way.

When they were far away from the gypsy camp, Marguerite resumed her usual lively and soft voice, patted the skirt so flat that no one was hiding, and said with a smile: "Come out, little girl." guy."

Like a moth breaking through a silkworm cocoon, the boy struggled out from under a layer of linen petticoat and three layers of satin, his head still firmly pressed against his chest, and he looked like a Communist Party member who "wouldn't look up even if he killed me". Die-hard style.

Margaret chuckled: "Don't want to show your face? It's okay, come on, sit on my lap, sit down like all good children of eleven or twelve years old, it's comfortable, and we won't see you Face."

The boy's pale and thin back froze suddenly.

"Don't be so shy like a little girl, little guy." Margaret put her hands under the boy's armpits and hugged him easily on her lap.

The boy curled up like a frozen, terrified kitten, shivering for a long time before he calmed down.

He had never, never been hugged.

"...Aren't you afraid of me?" The boy finally asked after holding back for a long time.

Different from his hideous and devil-like appearance, the boy's voice is elegant, sweet, pleasant, and his grammar is accurate and smooth, just like an angel waving its white wings and hovering in the sky... It makes people feel intoxicated when they hear it...

Margaret smiled slightly, sighed and said: "After we are buried in the grave, we will become like you now. Why should people be afraid of themselves in decades? Why are people afraid to face the truth?"

Even the snake-faced V with no nose has become the male god of thousands of Chinese and foreign girls!Don't you just have no skin, no nose, no eyelids and no lips!Humans with fish lips, you don't understand the beauty of incompleteness!

Boy: "..." His grievances, complaints, complaints and curses all turned into "_(:з"∠)_".

"Well, what's your name? Where's your home?"

"Are you going to send me away?" The boy tensed up like a frightened little animal, and answered the wrong question.

"Are you sent away by your parents, or did you run away from home?" Margaret also answered irrelevantly.

Petty, dare to be coquettish to your savior?Sickness is a disease and must be cured!And I sure have the means to cure you.

"I don't have parents, and I don't have a motherland." The boy said through gritted teeth—fortunately, he only has no lips, but his teeth are still there. "I don't have anything."

"It doesn't matter, my dear, I also had nothing eight years ago." Margaret smiled slightly, "Oh, no, the only thing I have more than you is this face, but what's the matter? According to those annoying people The gypsies said, you are a talented designer, magician and artist, making yourself a mask that looks like a real one must not be a problem to our geniuses, right?"

The boy was naked, his scarred back straightened slightly.

"Now, can you tell me your name?"

"... Eric." The boy who had been awkward for a long time whispered.

Margaret said nothing.

Eric was a little flustered. He didn't understand why the angel didn't speak anymore. Could it be that he didn't like his name?

He wanted to turn around and ask, but his face stopped him.

At this moment, Eric, who is as careful as hair, anxious, and cranky, can't understand the alpaca whizzing past Margaret's heart-this is the world she traveled through at any time, the number of alpacas Most once:

—— Nima, the great god of time travel, if you are playing with me, say it in advance!

What kind of people did you let me meet!

The ghost of the theater that the newspaper office snatched from the doll, the young Eric fell!

You really think I am a spiritual mentor!

Really like my Xue Baochai, see one persuade one enlighten one ah fall!

I really think that I am the savior, and it is my duty to restore the mental health of the male god!

Next, do I want to transmigrate into "Harry Potter" and enlighten me to slice my soul like toast and make Voldemort of different flavors!

The complaints in her heart grew wildly like achnatherum, but Margaret still couldn't be hard-hearted, and she couldn't be hard-hearted to let an eleven or twelve-year-old child fend for itself.

She gently supported her forehead, took off the veiled straw hat, and placed it flat on the boy's head, then carried Eric, who was as stiff as a zombie, out of the carriage, and then naturally took the slender Thin, cold hands with sweaty palms, it was like holding Adele.

...Then, the sensitive and delicate little Eric, who was very uncool, handsome and domineering, collapsed limply on the ground.

...seems to have passed out.

Margaret sighed very loudly.

——After traveling through time for 13 years, has she successfully transformed into a male god collector...

Why is it so like picking up junk?

It took Margaret a lot of thought to train this Eric, who was on the path of being a ghost, animal, petite, and black newspaper. There is only a thin line between a genius and a madman, but Eric can always be in between these two modes. In addition, the artist's mind is too delicate and sensitive, and a nervous bun like Margaret never dared to think about it...

Fortunately, fortunately, fortunately, this ghost has another important attribute: loyal dog.

——When I was young, I would kneel at Margaret's skirt and look at her with adoring eyes of "Queen, please whip"; at the age of eleven or twelve, I would say "your most loyal servant, let your wife The Merciful Dog" calls himself...

... Nima still looks crooked...

In 1849, a sunny morning.

Margaret got up early to pack with Julie.

"Are you leaving, ma'am?" The scrawny young man who had finally been raised said lightly, his face was hidden by a mask and his expression could not be seen clearly.

"I am going to Russia with the duke. His best friend—a respectable old gentleman who, like himself, was spared by death—is very ill, and the duke is very anxious to go."

"Can you take me?"

"Don't make it difficult for me, Eric, you know the Duke is very jealous, even if you are a child. He will not allow you to occupy his time." Margaret stopped and patted Eric The face hidden under the mask.The fresh sunshine in the morning scattered on her face, like an angel descending into the world...

"But, I'm also jealous..." the young man said in an inaudible manner.

"When I'm not around, don't treat human life like nothing, don't kill people casually, do you hear me?"

"Follow my orders, ma'am, I'll just kill them half to death, and then just scare them." Eric replied like a pug dog.

Margaret: "..." It is the same child, how to raise the effect of education is very different!

After a while, he suggested aggrievedly, "When will you be back, ma'am?"

"When will you be back?" Margaret laughed like a sigh.

She really wasn't sure about herself, if she had a chance to come back.

According to the nature of the great God of Time Traveling, once she embarks on a new journey, there will always be all kinds of ridiculous tragedy happening.

"I don't know, Eric." She sat down in the chair, and for a moment, childish melancholy and sadness covered the ecstatic face.

This expression caused the boy's heart to peel off piece by piece.

"Please allow me to give you a present, ma'am." He took a harp and stood straight in front of her with his lipless mouth slightly opened.

As soon as he opened his mouth, he had an angelic soft and beautiful voice.His music seems to contain a tension that makes the listener forget everything and completely immerse himself in the gripping notes.

He sang the serenade Marguerite had once sung to him.

After he sang this trivial little tune, it turned out to be so moving.He seems to have the ability to sing straw into gold bars.The bland lyrics, the simple and even monotonous melody, were blown into the sky by his breath, with the wings of passion inserted.There are also his hands that are more sensitive than ordinary people. The movement of plucking on the harp is a kind of enjoyment-they are not only the most dexterous hands in the world, not only can conjure the most wonderful magic in the world, but can even direct the harp. The most beautiful note in the world...

His angelic singing slowly dissipated in time and space, but it still seemed to linger in his ears.

"This is a great gift, Eric, one day you will conquer the world with music and become the king of the world!" Margaret raised her dreamy eyes, "By the way, your birthday is at what time?"

The young man took a step back and said in pain, "Today, ma'am."

"Today, it's such an unfortunate coincidence! I planned to cook you a delicious meal to celebrate your birthday, but now it's all gone." She frowned slightly, "What should I do..."

"It's okay, ma'am..." Eric wasn't looking forward to it at all—the mask was his first birthday present from his mother.

Suddenly, a bright smile reappeared on the beautiful cherry mouth, she tilted her head and said to herself: "Good idea... Come here, Eric!"

The boy walked over step by step.

She hugged the boy into her arms and took off his mask—Eric's whole body was as stiff as a corpse—her lips, as bright and fragrant as rose petals, as soft and sweet as cherries, fell firmly on his pale and cold forehead.

He was as stiff as an iron plate, and then trembled like a dead leaf in the autumn wind.

Ah, kisses!How wonderful it would be to be kissed by someone!His poor mother would never let him kiss her, would not give him a kiss...she would always turn and run away, throwing the mask in his hand!Others, moreover, never, never...

He kept crying, hugged her slender and beautiful neck tightly, then slipped out of her arms, knelt at her feet, kissed her feet, and let the tears roll down.

"When I celebrate my birthday again, can I receive the same gift?" His golden eyes were misty with tears.

"You will, Eric, you will, I swear."

The author has something to say: A cute little theater:

Mr. Darcy: Miss Authors, Jane Bennet and Elizabeth Bennet, please save me one!

Miss author: Jane Bennet in "Pride and Prejudice" and Elizabeth Bennet in "[Comprehensive Classics] Traveling to Europe and Dismantling CP", take your pick.

Mr. Darcy: ...

The male protagonist in The Phantom of the Opera... is the most bitter male god Xiaofeng has ever seen, bar none!Please Baidu for the degree of bitterness!