Grasp the farming script in the famous book

M. de Villefort looked very gloomy before leaving for the court.

His eyes fell on Madame de Villefort.The young housewife was arguing with the servants of the house at the moment.

"This is impossible."

Madame de Villefort shook her head and said to the maid.

The prosecutor asked casually: "Madam, what's impossible?"

Madame de Villefort held a letter in her hand and said: "It's the Royal Opera House——the opera house has a new show tonight, and there is no public ticket sale, but admission is by invitation only."

"It is said that all the invited ones are women."

Prosecutors are not interested in any entertainment.

When he heard this, he ignored it as a windfall.The prosecutor said in his usual flat, emotionless voice: "Madam, please come with me."

Madame de Villefort nodded in agreement, and threw the letter to the maid: "Tell the cook, if she really thinks she can walk into that theater, then go. Of course I can give her half a day off."

Her tone was utterly sarcastic, as if she felt that the master of the theater invited the humble cook of the de Villeforts, but did not invite her as the hostess, which was simply ridiculous in the world.

Madame de Villefort said casually, and followed her husband into his study—

The prosecutor carefully locked the double doors of the study room, sat in front of his desk, stretched out his hand involuntarily, and pressed down on a letter on the desk.

The letter had been received by him at the courthouse a day earlier.

It read simply: "Sir, I know that appalling crimes have taken place in your home. I know you are trying to cover it up. And you are a prosecutor."

The other party did not explain what they would do, but it was enough to stimulate the prosecutor's fragile nerves.

He is a prosecutor, and in Paris he symbolizes justice, wielding the sword of justice, and wants to cut it to any place where crime exists.

If anyone knew that such a crime had been committed so close to him, his political opponents would use it as an excuse to overturn his current position.

Besides, both the doctor and old M. Noirtier were insiders.

On the day of Valentine's death, he had sworn before these two that he would pursue it, find the murderer, and do his duty as a judge.

Now facing the murderer, M. de Villefort could not understand why she should still be interested in thinking about the Opera House.Was she without any remorse or fear, had she never believed that justice and justice were real?

M. de Villefort then asked his wife with the solemnity of a judge:

"Madam, where do you keep the poison you usually use?"

The murderer finally felt fear, and fell in front of the "law" represented by the prosecutor.

……

An hour later, the prosecutor hurried back from the courthouse.

Andrea's crisp voice in the dock echoed in his ears:

"I was born in Auteuil, my father was a prosecutor."

He was like an orange, whose noble outer skin was peeled off in public, exposing his rotten heart.

His love history, his illegitimate child... His closely-covered past was revealed in an instant, and everyone in Paris watched.

At this moment, he finally remembered that maybe he should try to forgive his wife.

Because he realizes that he is no nobler than his wife - he is also a guilty person and has no right to judge her.

Storming the empty mansion of de Villefort, prosecutors finally found his wife and son, seven-year-old Edward.

They both lay lifeless--apparently his wife, Madame de Villefort, had taken her precious son from this world when she pleaded guilty to commit suicide.

A whimper escaped from the depths of the prosecutor's throat.

Footsteps suddenly sounded behind him.

"Father... are you, Father Buzzoni?"

The prosecutor looked at the messenger of death who appeared behind him, and suddenly remembered that the priest first appeared after the death of the Marquise de Saint-Meran.

Since then, whenever someone dies in this haunted house, the priest will appear.

"Father, do you see that?"

M. de Villefort thought he had found the man who had written him the anonymous letter.

He shouted at the priest: "See? My wife and my children—is God's punishment enough for me now?"

The priest looked at the children and women who had lost their lives lying on the ground, his eyes were full of sympathy and compassion.

"No, prosecutor—this is not God's punishment for you."

"This is a crime you committed yourself."

"As a prosecutor, you are well aware of the meaning of the law, and you also know that even criminals should have a fair trial and a chance to confess their guilt to the world."

"You didn't do that with your wife."

The prosecutor suddenly became furious - obviously he should be delirious with grief at this time.

"Father, do you know what you are talking about?"

"You are a priest, shouldn't you be praying for the dead now?"

The priest took off his hood, revealing the face that belonged to the Count of Monte Cristo.

"This is……"

M. de Villefort murmured, "This is the face of the Count of Monte Cristo."

"Is it my eyesight?"

"I see, you are my enemy."

"You pretended to be a rich man and bought the villa in Auteuil, where Andrea was born. You carefully unearthed the secrets of the past."

"On the other hand, you dress like a priest and haunt my house. You watch innocent people die one after another, and you force me to do justice—"

"But look!"

The prosecutor pointed to his wife and children, "This is the justice you want!"

The prosecutor tried again and again to provoke the earl, but the earl remained calm.

"Father Buzzoni, Count of Monte Cristo, Lord Wilmore...these are not the real names of the man who seeks revenge on you."

"I am Edmond Dantès, a wronged soul who was buried in the black prison of Yew Castle by your own hands."

"In order to conceal your father's role in the restoration of the emperor, you burned the emperor's letter to your father and ordered me to be imprisoned in Yew Castle forever."

Seeing Villefort's blank expression, the count raised the corner of his mouth mockingly: "Look, you probably don't remember these past events anymore!"

"As far as you are concerned, you just sign a paper order and let people carry it out."

"For me, it was supposed to be the best time of my life."

"My father died because of it and I lost my love forever."

The count seemed to be speaking without any emotion, but in fact, his nostrils were fluttering slightly. Only those who were very familiar with the count could vaguely feel that this one was becoming agitated.

M. de Villefort sat down on the floor facing the "corpse" of his wife and children.

He seemed to feel cold, curled up, wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders and whispered:

"Yes, yes—"

"You have the right to revenge."

"But look, your revenge is ruthless enough!"

"God has made me lose my reputation and official career, I have lost my ex-wife and daughter, and now you have taken the lives of my wife and my son from me... You, you are so ruthless!"

M. de Villefort suddenly threw his head back into the air and burst out laughing.

"What's wrong with my child? The seven-year-old boy is just a little bit naughty. Tell me, what mistake did he make to bear your revenge?"

"Do not--"

The Count of Monte Cristo uttered a roar resembling a lion.

M. de Villefort's laughter was cut off at this roar, abruptly.

"Do you know what your wife and child died of?"

"They died in the courts and moral trials you set up without permission."

"You are the culprit who ruined their lives single-handedly."

"If everyone can claim to be a 'judiciary', and can abuse lynching to claim all justice - then what law does our society need?"

The count, with a frightful, bright look in his eyes, approached again M. de Villefort, who was lying on the floor.

"It was you, and only you, who committed the crime, and should be responsible for all of this."

"You never wanted to defend the real justice - what you have always favored is the power, reputation and prestige that the prosecutor's position brings to you."

"Anything that might affect your official career will be killed."

"The innocent sailor Edmond Dantès, who even read the envelope of the emperor's letter and knew the name and address of the addressee, deserves to die—"

"Madame de Villefort, greedy, murdered her son because he could not inherit, and deserved to die--and deserved to die quietly, so that her husband could continue to live so innocently and justly. "

"You are for yourself from the beginning to the end, you are a sanctimonious hypocrite, a real villain who only cares about profit!"

The prosecutor was exposed to the deepest filth in his heart, and he panicked.

He reached out and grabbed his hair, pulled it hard, and immediately tore off a lot.

"Yes, I am guilty."

He whimpered and threw himself on the dead body of his child.

Little Edward lay peacefully on his back, pale--the father's heart was instantly wrung to pieces.

"But God...why is God so cruel..."

The count stood behind him and spoke:

"God is just, and the punishment that falls on the world should not be a reason and an excuse for your escape."

He noticed that the faces of the "dead" women and children began to show blood, a little rosy.

"I used to think that it was my fault, that I abused the power of revenge that God gave me." The count raised his face and looked at the ceiling above his head, "Until someone reminded me..."

His eyes seemed to say to an imaginary pretty face: Thank you.

The girl's embarrassing explanation seemed to be heard in her ears-"After all, the authorities are obsessed, but the bystanders are clear!"

"As long as you still have a sliver of conscience, as long as your judicial career has taught you the most basic legal principles and made you realize the significance of the law to this society...then, please plead guilty!"

The count produced two pre-drawn confessions from under his baggy priest's robe.

"If there is no other problem with the above statement, please sign it."

The prosecutor read the confession and saw his crimes: dereliction of duty, framing, setting up a private court...

"I did not include your extramarital affair with a certain lady. I am not your ex-wife, and I have no right to ask you to be faithful."

But in fact, the prosecutor, who is serious on the surface but has no restraint in private - has become the laughing stock of Paris in just one hour of today's court session.

"And here's your wife's."

The prosecutor stared blankly at the confession of Madame de Villefort-the crime written on it was: "Poisoning the Marquis de Saint-Meran and his wife, and attempting to poison the servants Barois and Valentine de Ville Lucky luck."

"You mean, you mean..."

The prosecutor stammered and asked.

"Yes, your father's loyal servant, as well as your daughter, are alive and well."

"Thus your wife's crime against these two was attempted murder."

Monte Cristo withdrew the two confessions signed by the prosecutor.

"After you and your wife have been executed, I will send your child to the right place and hand him over to the right person to raise him."

"You mean, you mean..."

M. de Villefort beamed, and his thoughts began to become active.

"Yes, I changed the drug she used to a drug that temporarily paralyzes a person for a period of time and looks exactly like a dead person."

"Both Barois and Valentine were saved because of this drug."

Little Edward's eyelids were already trembling slightly, and the child seemed to be able to wake up at any time.

De Villefort stepped back slowly, and stretched his hand towards the desk, where always stood a paper knife, short but sharp.

"Edmond Dantès!"

Villefort suddenly called out the real name of the man before him.The count turned to him.

"I don't know how you escaped from Yew Castle, nor how you cheated your wealth and your status today, but—"

"You're just a little guy! Just..."

The sharp paper knife was passed out towards the count's chest, and it went through the priest's robe with a "chick".

But the knife didn't pierce the count's chest, but bounced back with a "ding" sound, curling the blade.

The count then easily grabbed the prosecutor's wrist and twisted it. The hand used to write the indictment was dislocated immediately, and the owner of the hand let out a scream.

"Yes, I am an ordinary person."

"My heart has been saved. I no longer see myself as a messenger of God. I just try my best to do what I want to do, try my best to do everything well and do everything well, and I don't think about what will happen next. "

--Doing good deeds without asking for reward.

"By the way, you'll have one more charge of attempting to attack someone with a paper knife, as evidenced by the hole in the plea - an attempted offence, of course."

The count slammed the guilty person to the floor, and he no longer had to pay attention to the sinner who claimed to be the incarnation of "justice" but despised "justice" from the bottom of his heart.He turned around and lowered his head, and picked up the seven-year-old child.

Edward was in the earl's arms, his face was rosy, he was breathing slightly, and he was still not awake.

He walks out the door—

Outside the door, the loyal old servant Barois was serving the old Mr. Noirtier to board the carriage and happily prepared to leave the house.

Thanks to the fact that the servants in the house had been temporarily dismissed, they were not scared away by the sight of "resurrecting from the dead".

Behind the earl, Madame de Villefort, who also "resurrected from the dead", is slowly waking up.

All she had in front of her was the pale prosecutor with a dislocated wrist.

Outside the de Villefort mansion, the whistle of the Paris police was ringing.

What this couple will face is judgment from the world.

Andrea returned to St. Bernard's Court, where he received a wild welcome—

To scare off the prosecutor in court, the most ruthless and most terrifying prosecutor in Paris?You must know that this prosecutor's subordinates have written countless indictments that put criminals to death.

Just a secret from the past can make the prosecutor unable to proceed with the trial and have to leave the court early?

The news was sent back by the guards who escorted the prisoners, and once it was sent back to St. Bernard's Court, it caused a sensation.

The prisoners regarded Andrea as a saint.

The guards agreed that Andrea could get a substantial sentence reduction.

"Andrea, someone is here to visit!"

Andrea followed the guards to the small room for private meetings.

Hector, the director of the Royal Opera, sat in the same place that Bertuccio had sat last time.

"Hector, how are the negotiations with the council going?"

Hector was already like Andrea No. [-], fully aware of what they were doing.

"The other party made an excuse and was unwilling to meet our representatives. The meeting that was originally scheduled to be held in the parliament was also postponed. When asked when it would be held again, there was still no answer."

Andrea smiled immediately and said, "Fortunately, we have already prepared for the worst."

At this moment Hector lowered his voice and said to Andrea:

"Tomorrow, tomorrow I will come to see you again. Tomorrow night, you should have regained your freedom and can command everyone's actions again."

Andrea nodded and gestured to be careful that walls have ears.

"By the way, my sister..."

In front of Hector, Andrea finally didn't say the name "sister".

"Your Miss Eugenie, what are you doing recently?"

Regardless of mentioning Roland, when Roland was mentioned, the manager of the troupe immediately showed a confused expression, scratching his head and answering: "She, she..."

"Well, I know," Andrea understood at a glance, "she always does strange things that are unexpected and confusing!"