Battle of the Rhine

The sender's name and address were not written on the letter, but the postmark indicated it was from Munich.Michael's heart reached his throat, and he accidentally stepped on "little girl"'s tail.The dog looked at him sadly, "Sorry," Michael rubbed the dog's head indiscriminately, "I'll get you a sausage later..."

He ran back to the room without taking off his clothes, took a deep breath before tearing open the envelope.He moved very carefully, for fear of tearing the letter paper inside.There was only one sheet of paper in the envelope, folded twice.Michael opened it with apprehension...and found that it was a letter written by him, the one with the photo of "little girl" sandwiched between it.There were red letters and symbols all over the letter, and Quincy, like a conscientious German teacher, corrected all the misspellings, declensions, and conjugations for him.Other than that, he didn't write a single word.

Michael read it three times, staring at the beautiful letters.It was Quincy's handwriting, he confirmed.What does Quincy mean?He went to the kitchen to get a sausage and cut it open, and went downstairs to feed it to the "little girl".The puppy's tail wags like a propeller. "My German is terrible," Michael said to the "little girl." "I'm so stupid! And I misspelled a few words. He must be angry--"

"Who is angry?" The porter poked his head out, "Is your wife?"

"No, I've been divorced a long time ago." Michael stroked the puppy again, "He's a good man, I made him angry."

"So it's a man?" The porter grinned, "That's boring!"

Michael ate two sausages at the letter.He didn't drink, for fear of oversleeping and missing the train the next day.Saturday was a typical sunny day in early winter.The sky was as blue as frozen blue glass.A few clouds hung in the treetops.Michael walked towards the station on fallen leaves, wearing a dark gray scarf.He bought the scarf at a grocery store, very cheap.Last night, he fell asleep with the letter in his arms. Now, the letter and the envelope are hidden in his shirt pocket, close to his chest.I don't know if it was an illusion, but Michael felt his heart beating extraordinarily strongly. "Thank you, God." He sincerely prayed to the cross on the top of the church, planning to donate more money to the church on Sunday.

Stuttgart is a big city, not as big as Munich, but still a big city.Michael arrived too early, most of the shops were not open yet.He found a place to slip in and drink coffee and two loaves.Gloves!Wool gloves.Wool is the warmest, but a bit irritating to the skin.Michael reads the newspaper while drinking coffee. He is not interested in politics or anything, just browses the sports section and entertainment news.Germans love football and there are many football games.Michael hoped to come on as a substitute sometime and try to play 'for real'.But he just thought about it, and in the words of "Spoon" and the others, "If you don't kick the ball to your own goal, you will be blessed by Maria!"

I'm not that bad.When you are full, the sun rises into the sky.The sun in Europe is quite magical. After summer, it seems to have lost its strength. It always hangs lazily in the corner of the sky in the morning.Michael walked a few places, picking only the shops he thought were "expensive".He found several pairs of gloves, all of which were not satisfactory. "Aren't there any woolen ones?" Michael gestured, fearing that his poor German would misunderstand the clerk. "That kind of woolen, dark gray gloves, do you have them?"

"Wouldn't the sheepskin ones work?" The clerk looked only seventeen or eighteen years old, "This kind, black ones, will keep you warm!"

"I want wool." Michael changed to a more expensive one, but still couldn't find the wool gloves he wanted.He asked for a long time, but the clerk gave the same answer, "How good is the sheepskin! Lambskin, soft, warm, and convenient——"

He tried the gloves on, and they were indeed soft, warm, and able to move his fingers flexibly.Quincy doesn't go to the workshop very often, but he does go a few times.Wool gloves have holes wherever they hook, and are not as strong as sheepskin.Michael comforted himself, took out his wallet and bought the pair of beautiful gloves.Quincy's fingers were longer than his, and he bought them a size up on purpose.The clerk wrapped the gloves for him and put them on the bag with the trademark on them.This glove cost him nearly a month's salary. Michael stepped out of the store, feeling a little guilty: he saw a beautiful scarf, but it was too expensive... If that Frenchman, he would definitely be able to afford it , because the only people who can go to medical school are rich dudes, that's what little Adam told him.

The sun was rising in the middle of the sky, and Michael's train was at more than four o'clock in the afternoon. He had to go out with great difficulty and had to turn around a little.He walked along the street, eyeing the Germans curiously.Like Munich, Stuttgart is being rebuilt, full of scaffolding.The city must have been bombed to pieces before.Michael stared at a piece of scaffolding, what a pity, it was a beautiful old house...

A blond-haired man walked over, Michael rolled his eyes, and scolded himself contemptuously in his heart.Blonde hair, blond hair always caught his eye.Contempt is contempt, he still secretly turned his face away, pretending to look there casually.Then he was stunned, the figure in the black coat was very familiar, with flat shoulders, thin waist, slender legs...

"Carl?" Before the brain stopped, Michael's tongue moved on its own, "Carl!"

The man stopped and turned around slowly.Carl von Quinnessy, God, Michael was overjoyed, "Carl! You—"

Quincy stared at him as if a bomb had fallen from the sky.The joy receded, and Michael suddenly remembered, oh my god, he shouldn't have been in Quincy's presence as a bastard—he had the nerve to call someone by his Christian name!Why did the Fiennes family have such a cheeky...

"I'm sorry," Michael whispered, "Oh, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have bothered you, bye."

The joy and excitement of receiving the letter were gone.His dear college student, disgust was clearly written on his expression.Michael pursed his lips and waved his hands.Although it was still early to leave the train, he could change his ticket, or buy something near the station to satisfy his hunger.Should go to Munich today -

"Where are you going?" Quincy asked, speaking very slowly.

"I...I'll go back." Michael said, "Go back to town." He looked at the other person's face cautiously, "Well... I received your letter, yesterday evening. Thank you."

The wind blew across the street, kicking up clouds of dust. "It's cold," Michael said. "Have you had your lunch yet?"

"No."

"Then shall I buy you a cup of coffee? . . . okay?"