Flowers, Swords and France

"Damn it, it's raining again."

In a carriage that was shuttling through the streets, Kong Ze looked out the window and complained in a low voice.

The weather in June 1849 was always cloudy and sunny, just like in ordinary years. The sun was shining brightly the moment before, and he and the man next to him got on the carriage happily, but the next moment it rained heavily, and the carriage had to find a way to hide from the rain before it had gone far. This was really ridiculous.

Although the man next to him didn't say anything, he also took out his pocket watch to check the time, which made Kong Ze's heart tighten - now, after getting this person's promise for the future, he was more afraid of making this person unhappy than at any time before.

Fortunately, under his prayers, after a while, the rainstorm gradually stopped again, and then the carriage was on the road again.

The carriage traveled along the streets and alleys, and the city after the rain suddenly became much cleaner, as if it had been repainted all of a sudden. After an unknown amount of time, the speeding carriage finally stopped as the driver tightened the reins.

Then, the carriage opened and two people got off the carriage.

Then, they came to a small apartment.

This house seemed to have been there for a long time, or because no one had taken good care of it. The whole place exuded an unpleasant and dilapidated atmosphere. The base of the wall was stained gray and black, as if it was as gloomy and serious as the entire sky, with a gray color that made everything dim. The stone slabs on the street were dry, and a layer of yellow plating was laid on them because of the dried mud and water. Because it had just rained. The water in the ditch was mixed with mud, and along the edge of the wall, there were dry weeds. Once you arrive at this place. Even the most carefree people may become unhappy for no reason like others. The house was dead silent inside and outside, no human voices could be heard, and even the sound of horse hooves outside the street wall could not be heard. It was almost like a prison.

Charles felt that several eyes were looking at the two of them, perhaps because their well-dressed appearance was totally out of place here.

Such a dilapidated and dilapidated scene. Charles, who had been silent all the time, couldn't help but look back at Kongze.

"Is it really here?"

"It is indeed here, that's right." Kongze hurriedly answered respectfully.

Perhaps out of gratitude to Charles. Perhaps for fear of making him unhappy and wasting his chance to make a fortune, Kongze immediately devoted himself to the work of finding people after receiving Charles' request - this is also his old business.

After asking for help from his old relationship, his work was also carried out very efficiently. He soon helped Charles find this person - but. This is also because the other party did not hide his identity at all, but came directly to Paris. Although he didn't know why Charles had the urge to find this family who was obviously powerless, it did not prevent him from executing Charles' orders to the letter.

"The family lives on the second floor. They found this place because they don't have much money. After all, the rent is cheap." Kong Ze continued to explain, "When we first found them, they thought we were government spies and were on guard against us! I tried my best to persuade them. They believed that you had no ill intentions and were just visiting... Now he is waiting for you there."

"Really? You've worked hard. Thank you." Charles nodded gently, thanking the other party for the rare occasion, "Then please lead the way."

Kong Ze greeted the middle-aged man who looked like the landlord, and then walked in with Charles in a swagger, passing through the dilapidated and greasy dining room, and they walked in step by step. They didn't speak all the way, only the wooden stairs were rotten and made a creaking sound.

Soon, they came to the second floor and stopped in front of a room. Kong Ze came forward and knocked on the door gently. "Sir? It's me! The man from yesterday, we are here!"

This is it.

With the knocks on the door, Charles subconsciously reached out and adjusted his collar and tie - even though the other person's clothes must be much shabby than his own.

Just when he suddenly felt a little uneasy, the door suddenly opened, and then a woman appeared, she looked at the two people in front of her curiously.

Needless to say, Charles also knew who she was, Jenny, or should she be called Jenny?

It doesn't matter.

"Madam, hello..." Kong Ze's face rarely squeezed out some smiles, although it was still very stiff. He pointed at Charles and introduced him to the other party, "This is the gentleman I told you about the other day. He wanted me to come to your family. Can you rest assured now? We are not government spies."

"Sir, please come in." Perhaps because it was rare to see guests, Jenny had a smile on her face and looked very friendly. She greeted Charles, her attitude was polite and gentle, but not without dignity. Of course, there was also a little doubt about Charles's intention. "He's waiting for you. It started to rain heavily, so I thought you might not come."

[Jenny was born into a German aristocracy. According to the tradition at that time, she learned French since childhood, so she could talk freely with Charles and others. And the tutor's language ability is naturally needless to say...]

"Good people will not break their promises because of rain." Charles smiled and joked.

The room was as small and cramped as every shabby apartment. Although it was neatly arranged, it still couldn't hide the traces of poverty. But Charles didn't care and followed Jenny step by step.

Although he had been mentally prepared, he was still slightly startled by the person he saw next.

It was not because he felt some kind of kingly aura, or because he was too excited to control himself - he was not the kind of person who would be easily moved by external things - but simply felt a sense of disharmony.

Yes, a kind of inexplicable strangeness.

In that life, when he read about this person in the history book, the accompanying pictures were all images of a bearded old man. Now, although the young Karl Marx in front of him had the same outline, there were many differences after all. At this moment, he was even a little stunned. This young man in casual clothes, with a black beard, a reserved attitude and a little philosopher-like arrogance, is really the famous mentor? Is this person the one who changed the future course of history to such a degree?

Unbelievable, but have to believe it.

This wavering did not last long, and he soon regained his composure. He cleared his throat and bowed to the other party.

"Dr. Marx, it's nice to meet you." He is a doctor of philosophy from the University of Jena, and of course he deserves this title.

"I'm sorry that I can't greet you in the same way, sir, because I don't know your name yet." Dr. Karl-Marx also stood up and nodded calmly to Charles, "But someone in my current position certainly wouldn't mind having an extra visitor."

The original text is available at Six # 9 @Books/Bar!

He glanced at Charles again, then gestured for him to sit down, "But I'm still a little curious, why did you come to visit someone who has been expelled by the Prussian and Belgian governments, and is likely to be expelled again by the French government?"

Sure enough, it was still a little strange. Although his attitude was polite, it was obviously a little stiff, and even had an unconcealed aggressiveness, which made Charles feel even more uncomfortable.

But, it was also right. How could a young man who had studied hard to become a doctor of philosophy and cynically opposed the government of his motherland not have such an aggressive attitude? How could he become melancholy and quiet as he did later when life had not smoothed out his edges, had not plunged him into poverty, and had not given him a blow as severe as "three children died of illness"?

Very good, this is not bad, maybe even better. Charles nodded secretly in his heart.

"Not possible, sir." He answered gently and politely.

"What?" The doctor was a little surprised.

"You just said that you 'may' be expelled by the French government, but this is not accurate." Charles continued, "In fact, according to the accurate information I have received, you will definitely be expelled by the French government, and it will not take long. Unless, you agree to be imprisoned in a prison in Brittany by the government."

A trace of pain flashed across the young man's face, and then it was quickly overwhelmed by stubbornness. He looked at Charles calmly.

"It seems that it has really been decided? Are you really sent by the government? Very good, I understand. I will not beg for mercy from you. No one is qualified to say the word "forgiveness" to me, an innocent person. I will leave."

"No, no, no, you misunderstood," Charles explained hurriedly, "I am not sent by the government. I just got the news and told you in advance."

After hearing Charles' answer, he looked at Charles again, as if he couldn't figure out what Charles wanted to do.

Taking this opportunity, Charles also took a clear look at him again. This man who was just in his early thirties had a black beard and a shrewd look, revealing the vitality unique to young people. But his face had begun to be scratched by the wind and frost of poverty. Obviously, the rough life had given him all kinds of blows.

But it's not too late now.

"In that case, thank you, although I don't know the purpose of your doing this." After a moment of silence, the doctor spoke again, "However, besides reporting to me, you seem to have other things to do?"

"Yes, sir." Charles nodded, "I just happen to have something to ask you."

"Ask as you like." The doctor smiled, "Anyway, I don't have anything else to do now." (To be continued..)