Started with a green hat for Verlaine

Seeing this scene, Ma Shengqiu was also engulfed in great fear.

where is he?

Did he really travel to another world?

He thought that he worked hard in the Middle Ages, was self-reliant, made friends, bought real estate, and organized his life. Suddenly, one day, he was told-you live in "Truman's World"?

All are fake?

Is even Quasimodo, the only one who will desperately protect himself, a fake?

Ma Shengqiu was also in a state of disarray, his previously intellectual and rational gaze became dull.He began to be afraid of this broken world, afraid of himself who lived in this world and knew nothing.

—he had the wrong script in his hand!

Quasimodo was also frightened by his transformation, and said anxiously: "Esmeralda! This time the weather is bad, and we are returning temporarily. Don't be sad. We can go to Italy next time to meet your favorite artist!" "

This may be the longest passage Ma Shengqiu has heard from Quasimodo.

Ma Shengqiu was also numb, Quasimodo wanted to help him, but he pushed him away for the second time, Ma Shengqiu also closed the door with a bang, and slid down, with an uncontrollable sadness welling up in his heart, he almost lost his voice cry bitterly.Losing the name of his previous life and the environment in which he lived, his only sustenance in the Middle Ages was to change the plot, live a better life, and pay homage to the artists of the [-]th century and participate in the historical process of the "Renaissance".

He had been planning for the future for so long, and he planned to go to Italy to open a paint shop with great interest, so as to solve the urgent needs of painters for paint.He wants to meet the 29-year-old Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo Buonarrotti who is about to be 12, and the soon-to-be-born Rafael Sanci!

From Paris, France to Milan, Italy, the straight-line distance is about 639 kilometers. In the 21st century, you can take a plane, a train, or even travel by car, but now it has become a distance that he will never be able to reach.

This is a false world.

Half a day later, Aso returned to the store in Paris.

He pushed open the door, his black pupils were gloomy, as if a storm was accumulating, and he looked extremely frightening.

At this moment, no one would mistake him for a woman.

Even though his memory is sealed, he only remembers Aso Qiuya in his previous life, the essence of his soul has been stained with the darkness of the port mafia, and the invisible shadows are beyond the reach of ordinary people.

William Shakespeare was gone, and the only people in the shop were blond poets holding poems.The man with the most orthodox blond hair in Europe leaned gracefully on the seat, his dark green eyes were like a deep forest, with a sense of conflicting beauty.His feet were resting on the low stool, he was not wearing a coat, and a silver chain was hung on the white high collar lining, which was connected to the Swiss pocket watch in his pocket, as if he was dressed in the upper class in Paris.

The lazy Pierre Gringoire looked up from his book when he heard the door being pushed open, smiling faintly.

Pierre Gringoire confirmed.

The other party, like himself, cannot leave the borders of France.

Pierre Gringoire seemed a considerate lover, and asked, "Where's Quasimodo? Didn't he follow?" Ma Shengqiu also felt sad and angry when he heard Quasimodo's name, and his eyes flashed coldly. However, he took a deep breath: "It's not going well to go to sea today, I asked him to inquire about other ships and time to go to sea."

Pierre Gringoire smiled: "It's useless, you can't get out by any method."

Aso Qiuya's heart sank, extremely bitter, "What's going on outside France...?"

Pierre Gringoire looked behind him. The weather changed from bad to good, and there were only puddles left on the ground after the downpour. The sky was clear of clouds, and it was extraordinarily fresh and beautiful.

"Maybe there are other foreign countries, maybe not, who knows."

They are all people who can't get out.

Pierre Gringoire said leisurely: "Our memory is not to be trusted."

Ma Shengqiu also stood at the door, digested the other party's argument for a long time, walked in with a pale face, took off his coat, and then hung a closed sign on the shop, and did not want to see other people today.

Ma Shengqiu also went straight to the point: "Memory is not trustworthy, what can be trustworthy?"

Pierre Gringoire covered his lips with a collection of poems, and his eyes were getting chills down the spine. In the dark green forest, there are not only towering trees, but also wild beasts peeking at you.

"intuition."

This is the answer of the poet who has departed from the original setting.

Ma Shengqiu also fell into new confusion, staring at him intentionally and muttering: "Even you are not trustworthy..."

Pierre Gringoire went back to his poetry collection and smiled.

"I'm going to find Mr. Shakespeare." Seeing that he couldn't answer the question, Ma Shengqiu turned to find another William Shakespeare who gave him a feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn't find the person who was usually very easy to find.Regarding his impatience, Pierre Gringoire did not deny it, the smile lines on the corners of his mouth were flat and illusory, he stood up, and slowly walked towards the breeding pen that Ma Shengqiu rarely went to, where only servants would usually go clean.

Pierre Gringoire gave all his hired servants a day off today.

A favored kid goat sleeps on the haystack in the pen.

The lamb Jiali ate and drank for a year, ignoring external affairs and not worrying about human troubles.Pierre Gringoire stroked the horns, thinking that the other person had the same routine as humans, "It's really a maverick sheep."

Maybe, this is not a sheep, but a sheep turned into a person.

Pierre Gringoire's eyes were ironic.

This world is so false, he and Esmeralda are the only ones who have entered the game and are sober.

William Shakespeare, who has been watching them, is not to be trusted!

"My world cannot be like this. All cognition reminds me that I live in a complete world and have received education beyond the scope of ordinary people..." Pierre Gringoire trusted his intuition, thought Floating, "The key to breaking the game should be on Esmeralda, no matter how bad it is...killing everyone should be able to break the game."

"It's a pity to let go of William Shakespeare, who must know better."

Pierre Gringoire was slightly regretful, as soon as he showed a little killing intent, the other party ran away.

And he didn't go arresting—

It's a little bit of sympathy for the usual chat partner.

The bankrupt British businessman was no longer found in Paris, and Ma Shengqiu also found the draft paper of the play in William Shakespeare's residence. In addition, the disappearance of this person was a foregone conclusion.

Three days later, there were two listless people sitting in the shop, only Quasimodo was working hard.

Aso Qiu was also playing chess with Pierre Gringoire.

The mind is all on the chessboard.

Ma Shengqiu also said, "Is your name Pierre Gringoire?"

Pierre Gringoire asked rhetorically: "You are not a girl, so it must be inappropriate to use the name Esmeralda. What is your real name?"

Ma Shengqiu was also absent-minded: "I am Esmeralda."

Pierre Gringoire said: "Then you call me Pierre, as if you were calling me."

Aso Qiuya's face moved slightly.

Pierre?

This name coincides with that of Charles Pierre Baudelaire.

The original novel describes Pierre Gringoire as a "tall, thin, pale-faced, golden-brown man with bright eyes and smiling lips". Agile, like a handsome French man made of money.

And what kind of person is the French poet Baudelaire?

A person who misuses money like Balzac, but owes money even more ruthlessly than Balzac!Obviously inherited a huge amount of inheritance, but kept repeating the vicious cycle of spending money, owed money, and avoiding debts, and finally contracted syphilis.

Ma Shengqiu couldn't help but compare the Baudelaire in history with the person in front of him.

This guy... is only one syphilis away from Baudelaire.

His eyes were full of suspicion.

Pierre Gringoire was taken aback by his eyes, and played chess casually, "Why do you look at me like that?"

"People have subconsciousness." Ma Shengqiu also began to explore the coincidence of Pierre Gringoire.

"Huh?" Pierre Gringoire, who had no modern memory but understood the meaning.

Ma Shengqiu also stood up suddenly, "I'm going to get a plate of fruit to moisten my throat."

He walked all the way to the back room without entering the kitchen, and quietly left through the back door to do something.

After a while, Ma Shengqiu also left the shop to the unidentified Quasimodo, and under Quasimodo's lonely and pitiful gaze, he took Pierre Gringoire out for shopping.

The reason was that it was pointless to stay in the shop, and they went out to see Paris and find other clues.

until--

A man shouted on the street: "Baudelaire! You want to owe money again? Catch it!"

Pierre Gringoire, who hadn't owed any money for a long time and relied on Aso Qiuya's relief, turned his head reflexively, and grabbed a bunch of papers thrown in the air—it was an IOU.

Afterwards, Pierre Gringoire's pupils trembled, why did I go to pick up the IOU?

what's going on? ? ?

Ma Shengqiu was also expressionless: "Lao Lai's instinct?"

This trick is for him to learn from the police's method of catching Frank Abagnale, dealing with people with various pseudonyms, calling the criminal's name suddenly can trigger the other party's reaction.

Pierre Gringoire: "..."

Pierre Gringoire's face changed drastically, and he said without hesitation: "I am not Baudelaire! I have never owed money!"

According to the script arranged by Ma Shengqiu, the debt collector ran over and pointed at his nose politely and cursed.

"Aren't you Charles Pierre Baudelaire?"

"……what……"

"I heard you have syphilis!"

"what?!"

Pierre Gringoire's elegant face lost all color.

……

"Melancholy": I haven't had so many memories in several years, a big piece of furniture, debt sheets stuffed in drawers, poems, love letters, complaints, romantic songs, thick and long curly hair wrapped around various receipts...

—Charles Pierre Baudelaire.