Started with a green hat for Verlaine

Victor Hugo flew back to France overnight.

As soon as he got off the plane, he was searched by Charles Pierre Baudelaire who personally picked him up.

Except for the high-ranking Baudelaire, none of the staff of the Paris Commune dared to do this. Everyone looked at the nose and nose, watching the heart, as if they hadn't seen Mr. Hugo who was smiling wryly.

Baudelaire received three items: an old ring, a portrait, and the manuscript of a poetry collection.

Mr. "Flower of Evil" with long golden wavy hair snapped his fingers.

"Take the honorable Mr. Hugo for an eye examination."

"Afterwards, wait for the cheers from the French supernatural world to celebrate the return of Mr. Hugo."

He turned around and said with a sneer: "I forgot to tell you that Shakespeare has been quarantined in the UK. I really hope that he can contract the latest infectious disease in France so that the UK can lose face together."

This one is called "Mr. Hugo" instead of "Victor". Victor Hugo knew that his behavior of helping Esmeralda went too far and offended Baudelaire, and he did not deny it. , followed with a smile.Then, not exceeding Victor Hugo's expectations, with the help of Baudelaire's "good intentions", he was entangled in the return to France and was cut off from Esmeralda.

After meeting with the French head of state, Victor Hugo was extremely busy meeting many colleagues and politicians. During his breathing space, he could only hope that Ranpo Edogawa could convey the meaning of "be careful" to Esme Lada.

[Esmeralda, I can only help you so far. 】

[The ring is hidden here with me. 】

Victor Hugo took off his gloves and wore ordinary rings on the fingers under the gloves, which saved him from being searched.If you take off the ring and look inside the ring, you can see the name "Aso Qiuya" engraved on it.

This is the first ring that Qiuya Aso gave to Arthur Rimbaud before he lost his memory, and it carries the most information.

The worse Baudelaire's temper became, the more he dared not hand in the ring directly.

There was a bit of speculation in his heart.

Not so good.

No matter who is the substitute, who loves the wrong person, he hopes that Esmeralda can make mistakes and live happily ever after.

Victor Hugo, who has returned to the top of France but has no manpower for the time being, chooses a high-profile low-key, not facing Charles-Pierre Baudelaire who will be in a high-level position seven years later.In private, he went to see Voltaire, who was under surveillance, and the two old friends, who were noble and compatible in temperament, looked at each other and laughed loudly.

"Victor, can you climb out of Notre Dame Cathedral alive?"

"Voltaire, have you entered retirement status early?"

Behind them, Jacques Rousseau, who personally rushed over to monitor Voltaire, sneered, but did not spoil the atmosphere of the meeting. After all, Victor Hugo's return to normal was what everyone had been looking forward to for many years.

Voltaire stared at the door eagerly: "Has Rousseau come?"

Victor Hugo shrugged: "I don't know what conflicts you have, Jacques doesn't want to come in."

Voltaire lowered his voice and asked for help: "My friend, dear Victor, help me persuade Rousseau a little more. Not only has he been angry with me for many years, he also doesn't let me call his name anymore."

Victor Hugo patted Voltaire with great force.

"If you're a man, take the responsibility."

Seven years ago, Victor Hugo only dared to paddle with William Shakespeare, while Voltaire was so bold that he was suspected of joining the "Seven Betrayers" organization and cooperated with others to kidnap the previous head of state of France.

"Although I can't agree with your behavior, I know that we all want the world to be a better place."

"Haha, as expected of Victor!"

Voltaire swept away the indifference in the retirement state and was full of energy.

Jacques Rousseau listened with veins.

He clenched his fists tightly. If he hadn't come to monitor himself, these words would have been spread.

Victor Hugo won't even try to clean up the stain when the time comes.

You two assholes!

On the other hand, Baudelaire, who threw out Victor Hugo with a crooked ass, did not rest. For the sake of his beloved student, the teacher sent people to investigate the things in his hand non-stop, and came to a conclusion: blonde blue An eye-catching male, a poet, one year younger than Aso Qiuya, and his name is "Ranbo".

Regarding the old ring, the intelligence agent only read a love affair with no beginning and no end.

Regarding the portraits and poetry collections, the intelligence agent read the emotions that Akita Aso imagined when he started writing, as if there was a hazy blond poet laughing and writing gorgeous chapters in the other party's mind.

When it was the fortuneteller's unreliable divination, Baudelaire no longer cared much about the content.

He basically nailed the answer.

The "Rimbaud" Ma Shengqiu also knew was either played by Paul Verlaine, or it was Paul Verlaine's cloning gene provider and missing body!

Baudelaire stared deeply at the stick figure on the A4 paper, trying to make a hole in the hair color.

What is false cannot become true, and what is true cannot become false.

Will Ma Shengqiu always admit his mistakes?

Between the musings of Charles-Pierre Baudelaire, the clerk of the Paris Commune who was in charge of investigating whether Paul Verlaine had bought the poetry collection of "Jean Nicolas" returned, and Baudelaire asked: "Have the results of the investigation come out?"

The other party said respectfully: "In the bookstore in Paris, there are records of two purchases by Mr. Verlaine."

Baudelaire knocked on the table, "Go out."

No need to call Verlaine.

As a teacher, he has read the collection of poems published by Attil one by one. If the collection of poems that Ma Shengqiu asked Attil to complete is the work of Verlaine, it is impossible for Verlaine to read the collection of poems and not respond.

A fragment of a manuscript of a collection of poems, not the work of Paul Verlaine.

Could it really be Attil's work...?

Baudelaire, like human beings, is accustomed to guessing in a bad direction, but in key places he can't wait for a misunderstanding.He doesn't want his students to be deceived, and he doesn't want the love that happens once in a while to be a dream, just like Quasimodo's feelings for Esmeralda... When he wakes up from the dream, he finds that it is all self-indulgent.

Baudelaire also used this time to finish reading the works of Akiya Aso.

After a limited understanding, he calmed down and recalled the Aso Qiuya he knew. He stretched out his right hand that had seduced many lovers and killed betrayers. The round, shell-shaped nails were beautiful and contained unimaginable lethality.He put his palm on "The Growth of a French Writer" written by Aso Qiuye to Arthur Rimbaud, his index finger and thumb pressed against each other, and the phalanx was indescribably sexy, as if he was pinching something charming out of thin air.

"Let me take a look at your 'Flower of Evil'."

The world of supernatural powers is solved with supernatural powers, he can't delay any longer, let's just be one-sided.

Baudelaire activated the derivative ability of his own supernatural ability-detecting people's hearts, judging good and evil, and showing the truth deep in the person's heart in the form of flowers.

"What does Attil's best lover look like, the excellent Esmeralda after Victor's investigation, and Ma Shengqiu who is willing to use money to help Pierre Gringoire and guide others to pursue art?"

"What your appearance hides inside—"

"Is it the ugliness of a liar, or the affectionate simplicity?"

The "Flower of Evil" was constructed between Baudelaire's fingers. The fragrance of the flower filled the air. It was not any smell he had ever smelled, and it was filled with the unique ups and downs of love.

Baudelaire's pupils constricted.

The picture is not what it looks like.

This is... a "Flower of Evil" with fragile roots, struggling to grow, twisted and blooming!

Flowers do not form.

Love is mad.

The side that no one knows is exposed, and Aso Qiuya's spirit is already in jeopardy!

This is not a powerful and dazzling flower with graceful petals, only a few blood-red petals stained with black stains, one or two branches and leaves, "evil flowers" that refuse to wither, and refuse to be twisted so that the branches bend down.It is neither pure nor healthy, and even a little deformed and undeveloped. Its leaves are rolled up in inferiority, like a different kind of rose, and it is about to drain itself dry in order to bloom.

But Baudelaire saw another kind of beauty in it.

ugly beauty.

twisted beauty.

A paradox of self-abased and proud.

Baudelaire lightly touched the dry petals on the edge with the fingertips of his left hand, thinking that it would fall into debris. The "Flower of Evil" trembled slightly and continued to grow upwards. The petals stretched vigorously, yearning for sunlight.

Baudelaire moved over to the only place in the office where sunlight came in.

The "Flower of Evil" is bathed in the warm golden sun.

Hua Zhi still couldn't stand up straight.

It seems to have become a little more beautiful, but it seems to remain the same, quietly showing her crazy beauty.

Baudelaire sighed, "Is that so?"

You know it.

The one in love is not the real Arthur Rimbaud.

Baudelaire took it down and found it to be a wandering rootless flower, and he felt pity for it.

He poured today's flowers and water into the trash can, and inserted the "Flower of Evil" into the vase on his desk, wanting to see how long it can bloom without him.

Water didn't help.

What allows it to absorb nourishment from deformity is love.

On this day, Baudelaire couldn't help observing it at work. The staff at the headquarters of the Paris Commune smelled a strange fragrance of flowers, and their hearts were springing up, and they couldn't help but want to go on a date after get off work.

……

Arthur Rimbaud's looks cannot be seen in the outside world.

After discussing with Qiuya, Arthur Rimbaud invited Katrin to the temporarily rented apartment.

The time was set for October nineteenth.

He also has a small secret that cannot be revealed: as Lan Tang, his birthday is January [-]th, but his birth age is actually October [-]th, one day earlier than Ranbu-kun's birthday.

The reason why I don't want to mention my birthday...

Arthur Rimbaud glanced at Ma Shengqiu's face sleeping beside the pillow, he hesitated to speak, and there was a trace of anxiety in his eyes.Asians are youthful and beautiful, not as mature as themselves. Every time he hears his lover praise himself as a French beauty, he really wants to say something to a man—look at yourself!

Aso Akiya is 28 years old this year and will be 29 years old on January [-] next year.

Arthur Rimbaud's false identity in Japan was 27 years old, one year younger than Qiu.

But his real age is 29 years old.

Soon.

Immediately thirty...

Arthur Rimbaud's eyes were empty, and he couldn't imagine that he would have a day when he was over 30 years old.

No...it must be taken care of, otherwise I would be ashamed to pretend to be young.

Unlike Qiuya who was sleeping soundly, Arthur Rimbaud couldn't fall asleep. He picked up his mobile phone to read the latest news from France, and when he saw the teacher's message asking whether Qiuya had any mental or psychological diseases, his heart skipped a beat.

The teacher's question is too strange.

Arthur Rimbaud thought of the teacher's supernatural ability, so he didn't dare to hide it, and sent the message carefully.

[Qiu Ye's mental state is quite normal, sleeping beside me, the only thing I know is that both of Qiu Ye's parents died when he was 16 years old, he suffered a mental blow, dropped out of school, and his memory is somewhat disordered and fuzzy.He has no supernatural powers. In order to protect himself and avoid his parents' enemies, he had no choice but to join the port mafia in high school. After that, he lived a relatively depressed life and was unwilling to speak out about the past. 】

Sent.

Arthur Rimbaud waited for the teacher's reply.

Baudelaire gave him a word and told him to rest in peace.

[Go to bed early, don't stay up late, I have already checked, and I will return the items to you in a few days. 】

Huh?

The teacher didn't doubt Qiuya anymore?

Arthur Rimbaud's heart softened when he saw the dark-haired man hugging his peaceful sleeping face.

Even if this person hides himself, he must be secretly afraid.

Scared of leaving him...

Arthur Rimbaud put down his mobile phone, there was no dazzling light, and the bedroom was dark, not much different from his home in the Japanese villa, and all he could smell was Qiuya's breath.

Good night, Qiu Ye.

We slept in the same bed in Paris, France, and waited for my birthday to eat hot pot together.

All my wishes come true...