And Chopin's days of playing the wind spectrum month

【Life is joyful and impermanent】

Chopin couldn't describe the weird feeling in his heart.

Someone told his past embarrassing things face to face, he has always been the center of admiration, and he was once again regarded as a "negative teaching material" by the fiancée.Having his coat ripped off mercilessly at such a close distance, he almost relied on amazing self-control to suppress the heat on his face, so as not to leave the table in embarrassment and anger.

If possible, Chopin really wanted to dig a hole right now, lie in a coffin and bury himself on the spot.

He couldn't refute it at all, because what Aurora said was indeed a fact that once existed objectively...even though it can be described in the past, but now he "occasionally", "still" and "still" goes to see Liszt every month, all day Reasonable "rubbing" a piano all day long--occasionally, he will "change his taste" and play Eral's piano openly, right?

But the superficial cover-up is so easily torn apart in person, and the feeling of shame and indignation is completely comparable to drinking ten glasses of Polish vodka in a row.

Not only that.

Looking at the serious face of the little tit - she doesn't know anything, it's not her fault, on the contrary, she is willing to talk to him like this, because she values ​​him, it is a sincere and lovely heart... Oh, although this heart is about to overwhelm Chopin himself became a hedgehog;

Look at the mother bird leisurely pointing with a pencil on the small book, with an inscrutable smile on her face - he fully understands this kind of schadenfreude, what is more annoying than watching the fire from the other side, and seeing that you are suffering and can't tell it by the way How happy are his people?This lady dug a hole for him from the very beginning. He obviously wanted to confess to his sweetheart, but he was forced to agree to continue to hide his identity... Oh, Chopin suddenly had a premonition that this scene of wanting to disappear from the world on the spot will happen in the future. become his routine.

I am now François Pison, what does Frederic Chopin's black history have to do with me?

The Poles can only use this self-deception method to find their own center of gravity in the confusion and dizziness, and listen to Aurora telling "the story of Chopin's past" with a smile on his face.

zal——

Little tit, I'm probably not your god anymore... You have personally lured me from the altar, and added three bamboo leaf paw prints with mud on my god robe.

Damn, I'm still foolishly happy.

"By the way, François, you haven't thought about hiring a cook or anything - you like Polish food, you can find such a cook in Paris... you only need to take out three of your food and beverage expenses. One part is enough, and if you spend half, you can live very comfortably."

The girl tilted her head and calculated in her head, but the result she got shocked the young man.

"It's true—although I have only come to Paris not long ago, I also care about food and vegetables. It's in Sister Petit's little handbook. It's a pity that I can't tell Chopin. In fact, he makes good plans and is rational. Spend a little, so that you won’t be disgusted by going to Liszt’s house every now and then——Francois, for the hostess, uninvited guests, especially those who often come to ‘cengfan’, count as an extra set of tableware It's nothing to her, and she will hate it."

"..."

Miss Titmouse raised half of her wings and secretly shared with him the little thoughts of her daughter's family.

Only then did Chopin, who was speechless, realize that the displeasure in the eyes of Countess Marie Dagu looked at him had such a meaning.He once thought that the lady only regarded him as Liszt's opponent—although he never wanted to be placed in such a position, and had no intention of being placed in such a position—to show hostility to him... So, in recent years, Month, as long as he appears at Franz's table, Mrs. Dagu's words will indeed become particularly sharp if he is present.

You have informed Chopin, my Aurora.

But he won't take your suggestion - first, because he's not used to having a stranger in the family; second, he doesn't need it anymore.

"Then I'm here...does it count as a meal?" He looked at her and asked tactfully.

"No, no, no, why do you think so—" She waved her hands at him in a panic, and his heart was healed by her.

"Forget it, why not?" Petit couldn't see it, and there was a cracking voice from the excellent landscape painting, "Mr. François, are you asking to pay the accommodation fee?"

"Mommy, what are you talking about!"

"Aurora, don't worry, Ms. Petit is testing me. She wants to see that I don't have the courage to change."

Chopin cast a reassuring look at his tits.

Then he confronted Pettit and started his counterattack with a smile.

"Ms. Petit, I am willing to pay all the expenses you propose...I don't know 'I want to live here for a long time', how much francs should I pay you?"

"That's enough for you two. I'm still here. Is this necessary? Auntie, if we really have to pay the fee, shouldn't we pay back his rent? Francois, she is my relative, please don't say that if.

"Mammy, Francois is a young man, you have to be patient and give him some time; Francois, although Mammy is not tactful, you can listen to her experience.

"You... seem to have a little secret that I don't know about, but I don't intend to explore it, because you are all my most important people——

"And I just want to live happily with you."

This is probably the first time Aurora has expressed herself so forcefully at the dinner table since she came to the nineteenth century.

It is true that she rarely has such a moody mood, and she is not willing to hide things in her heart because of her nature.When the girl finished her speech, the room was silent as if the westerly wind had passed through.

"Ha, Mr. Francois, you haven't told me your food preferences, maybe I can satisfy your expectations at noon?"

"Ah, that's an honor, Ms. Petit, I prefer fish dinners after coming to Paris. Do you have time to talk to me about financial management, I think it's time to touch these things."

"Oh, I have time anytime. There's no need to learn from scratch. You just need to write hard. I'll get you the bank bond information I sorted out. You just pick a few that you've read and invest in."

"That's a real inconvenience to you, ma'am."

Aurora stared dumbfounded at the two of them becoming amiable in seconds.

Tit for tat happened here?Discord here?What doesn't exist is an illusion.

The girl watched in a daze as the elder brought a large stack of documents and distributed them to the young man. Petit began to carefully tell him the background of each bond, recent income status, and investment advice.

Her teachings are shining——Aurora knew that this lady is so sophisticated and skilled in financial investment.The girl whose parents have passed away for a long time, relies entirely on the nanny to use the pocket money left by her mother, and relies on the annuity to maintain a carefree life.

Aurora leaned over and reached out to the same document at the same time as another person.

As soon as she looked up, François gave her the things.

"Hey, you two have good eyesight, Rothschild's bonds are very attractive, aren't they?"

When the elder was full of interest, the corners of the girl's mouth twitched.

Her nanny seemed to become strange when she mentioned this.

"It's not tempting, Mammy. If it were me, I would be more cautious about the bonds of this family."

"Why did you say that, Aurora?"

Aurora opened the information, and after a quick scan, she understood.

Sure enough, Pettit had already noticed that her "attractive" comment had actually already indicated her suggestion.

"If I remember correctly, the Rothschild family has already been involved in the financial market in the United States. They will encounter Waterloo, mother, and this is your caution."

Aurora spread out the paper, pointed to a sentence on the information and looked at Petit with a smile.

That comment is very cryptic, just a simple sigh: After many years, they will regret this move.

"Aurora, why don't you stop playing the piano, can the nanny teach you these things? Aurora, you have very keen judgment."

"..."

Frightened by the enthusiastic elders, the girl dropped the materials and ran to sit down in front of the piano, lifted the piano cover, and began to throw foreign objects out of her world.

Sharp judgment on finance?Impossible, I just heard a short story about Rothschild told by someone and happened to write it down.

Give up the piano?Absolutely impossible.

The mother bird has left the nest, and the chickadee is flying around on the piano, driving the keys to make extraordinarily beautiful music.

Chopin enjoys it all, lying on the sofa, wandering in the sea of ​​melody and texture.

Phrases are converted into five lines and musical notes in the minds of young people, and small black tadpoles surround the lines, decorations and annotations, slowly converging into words and sentences.

In a sense, he is indeed a writer—but he uses extraordinary expressions. He doesn't write stories in words, he only records them in music and expresses them with a piano.

This cohabitation benefit is too wonderful.

Chopin once wanted someone to tie a Hungarian to his piano, but when someone's claws reached out to his work, he would only wish to sweep the blond pianist out and put a lock on the door and window.

Compared with Franz, Aurora is an angel.

At No. 38 Anting Street, you can hear pianos that meet his aesthetic taste at any time, and this place is comparable to heaven.

"Francois, I play the piano like this every day, will it disturb you..."

"Why do you ask that? I'm just afraid that you're too tired to play any more."

The piano sound stopped, and the most loyal listeners were sitting on the sofa. The girl hesitated whether to speak or not.

"But... but... aren't you a writer? If you work, don't you need a particularly quiet environment?"

"Dear Aurora, everything will disturb me, but the music will not. Please rest assured that there will be no conflict between you practicing the piano and working with me."

"Well, I will take it seriously, François."

"Although it is true, there is no lie."

"How about this, when your illness is completely cured, I will buy you a writing desk for you - just put it opposite my piano, with the floor-to-ceiling windows there, the light must be very good."

"Why, you want to give me a writing desk?"

Perhaps the high fever had just subsided, and the young man couldn't keep up with the girl's thinking, so he could only watch her smile as bright as the sun.

"Dear sir, then I can watch you write as long as I play the piano. By the way, I can also urge you to write quickly and keep you away from the deadline."

"..."

Chopin almost fell off the sofa.

Zal, he even forgot that he is still a writer—when he recovers from his illness, he should start working hard.

writing……

What does he write with?He just wrote a French word, and his hands started to hurt!

The author has something to say: Thanks to the little angel who threw the grenade: the great magister loves to listen to one cross talk;

Thanks to the little angels who threw the landmines: 2 from Dongmu Xichao; 1 from Samantha, Leng Yuli, Fei Li☆Sudden Death Frontline, Zhen Yu, Papaya, and Tu Mi;

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: 12310 bottles of soda water; 5 bottles of milk coffee; 2 bottles of Qiulin.