Started with a green hat for Verlaine

One novel after another, the writers portray wonderful worlds.

One after another poems are written by poets with romance.

In just half a year, the Stewed Pigeon Publishing House under the name of Aso Qiuya received a lot of books, some of which were not published by itself, and some were new works of contracted authors, all of which were used in exchange for Aso Qiuya’s promise.

Every book worth reading, Ma Shengqiu will also publish it in newspapers and periodicals, and write about his own reading experience. He will never falsify, but only expresses that he has a picky taste. Thank you for sending a lot of works.

Every time after finishing a book, the reclusive oriental will gently touch a certain place on his body, and the scars under his clothes will disappear little by little.

There was a touch in his heart.

The damage left by Wenye World cannot resist the power of countless writers.

The literati spread the name of "Wang Qiu" to the whole world with their fanatical handwriting, and indirectly saved themselves who were dismembered and died.

"How wonderful that you want to see me without the scars."

"And I—have become innocent because of you."

Aso Shengqiu also opened his sleeves, and his arms gradually recovered the old skin.

The severed flesh and bones were reattached.

Some are happy and some are sad.

Maupassant, under the pseudonym Joseph Prunier, passed the review and serialized his first horror novel "The Skinned Hand" in the magazine. He excitedly received the manuscript fee, and within a day he invited writer friends and treated them to spend a lot of money. Empty.Then, he wrote to Mr. Flaubert to show off that he could give Mr. Wang Qiu a novel.

Flaubert responded unceremoniously to Maupassant: "Congratulations, this is your first step into the literary world. After you finish writing, you can publish it."

Just published!Maupassant was full of confidence in himself.

After all—you can get published for money.

Maupassant wrote very smoothly, but Bernard Shaw was not so lucky. No magazine or publishing house was willing to accept his novels.

George Bernard Shaw cried to Oscar Wilde: "I have no talent for writing!"

Oscar Wilde thought so too after reading it.

Bernard Shaw was hit even harder.

Oscar Wilde found an advantage: "Your opera reviews are very good. I think your specialty is not in novels. You can try to be a critic."

Bernard Shaw rolled his eyes, he might as well go back and become a musician.

"I'll try again, as long as I can publish a book."

"Come on, buddy."

"Wilde, no, why do you look so relaxed?"

"The novels I write are supported by Qiu. I write a little when I have time in school. I don't rush for success. Qiu is my first reader."

"...It's too enviable, has the novel chosen a name?"

"Think about it."

Oscar Wilde looked rather embarrassed, his face beaming.

"The Picture of Dorian Gray." Oscar Wilde said, "I originally wanted to title it "The Portrait of Mr. Wang Qiu", but Qiu told me that I don't need to write the protagonist as an oriental, and use a European. It is more in line with the characteristics of oil painting, and it is enough to intersperse an oriental guest as an embellishment."

Bernard Shaw said sourly: "Remember to give me a printed copy when you finish writing."

"No problem, it's just a small thing." Oscar Wilde crossed his legs and made a splash at Oxford University. He was already at the pinnacle of his life before he graduated.

He is the best.

He can look at everyone and everything with confidence and style.

"I'm so perfect!"

Unconsciously, Oscar Wilde uttered narcissistic words, and then he was subtly scrutinized by his former little follower Bernard Shaw.

——Red and purple, match eggplant.

There are times when Oscar Wilde's clothing is worrisome.

These are small matters of happiness.

Ma Shengqiu also hopes that he will live a happy life and never interfere too much with the other party's character development. He believes that the other party will choose the right friends, experience interesting campus life, and finally grow into Wilde with countless whimsical ideas.

[You are all the best literary stars. 】

In August, Ma Shengqiu also came to the strange Denmark by train.

In this country that gives people a gentle and peaceful name, one person is about to die.

Through many inquiries, he found the location of Mr. Andersen. The man was living in a friend's house, with terminal liver cancer and very little life left.

The arrival of Akiya Aso surprised Andersen's friends.

"I read your fairy tales when I was a child." Ma Shengqiu also squatted on the edge of the bed, holding the hand of the elderly writer carefully, watching the other's haggard face after being tortured by the disease, and said sadly, "When you grow up, I also read it to the children, and they were all amazed that there are such beautiful stories in the world."

There is no "Andersen's Fairy Tales" in Wenye World. However, he has read some stories to Nakahara Chuya and Edogawa Ranpo, including "The Daughter of the Sea", "The Little Match Girl", etc., even if he is a genius. Nakaya, who is born as a wild god, will also open his curious eyes and listen to simple stories.

In a desert of literature, verdant green seedlings grow.

"Thank you for making our childhood happy and full of imagination."

Aso Qiu also kissed the back of the writer's hand.

Andersen, who was seriously ill, seemed to hear his voice, and looked at him sideways. His tired and cloudy eyes seemed to see a beautiful person that only existed in fairy tales.

"An angel came to pick me up..."

Andersen's friend hurried over and whispered in Danish, "Yes."

Unmarried all his life, Andersen, who believed in Christianity, closed his eyes in relief.

It turns out that the angel is a person with black hair...

after one day.

Hans Christian Andersen dies.

Denmark has mourned the death of the world-renowned fairy tale writer at the age of 70.

Ma Shengqiu also bid farewell to the old man, his eyes were slightly red, and he left quietly, unwilling to use his fame for this, so as not to disturb the funeral.

He was sad that this was his first farewell writer.

Someone once said that death is just an adventure in life, and perhaps the next adventure of these writers will be in Wenye's world.

Aso also searched for the answer in his own way.

"Gabe, are there transcendents in Denmark, or are there very well-known supernatural powers?"

【Mom, let me ask! 】

after awhile.

Mom's little spy agent monitor camera has the answer.

[Yes, that person is Andersen, a very famous transcendent who is good at defense. Dad said that person is guarding Denmark~. 】

Gabu's youthful voice was so high that Ma Shengqiu also dispelled the dark clouds in his heart.

"Gabe, do you like the bedtime stories I usually tell you?"

【like! 】

"Those were written by Mr. Andersen."

[Wow - next time I see him, I must take a good look at him! 】

Gabe was brought up to be a groupie.

Fortunately for Aso, Gabe can really travel to Wenye's Denmark.

[Mom's world is super interesting! 】

Ma Shengqiu also deliberately said: "This is the world after death. Everyone has no supernatural powers. Isn't Gabe the most afraid of death?"

Gabe balked immediately.

He was born in the darkness, God knows if the supernatural life form can go after death.

I never dare to bet on probability.

Gabe reflected: [Mom, I was wrong, my side is the best. 】

Ma Shengqiu also looked up to the sky and sighed: It is indeed you, Gabe.

"To change the question, have you become friends with Chuya and Aji?"

[No, Brother Chuya avoids me, and I avoid Uncle Azhi. 】

Gabe's eyes watered.

Making friends and stuff...it's so hard.

In the conversation with his mother, Gabe suddenly mentioned his observation target: [Mom, I am a student of Mr. Baudelaire now, you asked me to pay close attention to Arthur Rimbaud, I found a very strange place. 】

【His earmuffs and scarf are old. 】

[Gabe once bought him a new, thicker scarf, which he didn't wear. 】

【Why? 】

Gabe couldn't understand why the brother, who was afraid of the cold and not short of money, was dressed so old.

Ma Shengqiu was also taken aback, why?

After his death, according to his plan, he gave everyone various gifts on a regular basis, and the gifts to Lan Tang were always full of the latest warm items of the season.Even if he hated the other party at the moment of his death, the gift factory didn't know.

Could it be that the gift factory has embezzled his money and is not going to give out gifts?

Or other natural and man-made disasters... closed down?

Ma Shengqiu also felt uncomfortable, and said silently: "Maybe I'm worrying too much, maybe he just doesn't want to wear my gift..."

The long-lost inferiority complex thought flashed away.

However, Ma Shengqiu also came to his senses, thinking about what Gabe said, that Arthur Rimbaud was wearing old items, which showed that the other party remembered him and was unwilling to accept the scarves presented by others.

"Gabe, I don't know, I... haven't seen him in a long time."

Ma Shengqiu also raised his palm to cover his throat.

No novel has healed that scar.

The deep winter of 1875.

Something that no one expected happened.

Paul Verlaine was seriously ill in prison and had no money for treatment. The prison was afraid of death, so Paul Verlaine was released two months early on the grounds that he performed well during his sentence.Paul Verlaine, who was seriously ill, could not find his divorced wife and son. Matilda's family immigrated to New Caledonia, and the house had already changed hands.

With the help of his friends, Paul Verlaine stayed in a small hotel in desperation.

The confirmation of the crime of sodomy made France no longer able to tolerate him.

He doesn't want to leave.

With nostalgia for the past, Paul Verlaine ran around looking for the lost drafts of poems, and recalled little by little the days of living with Rimbaud. After he was released from prison, he painstakingly sorted out a collection of Rimbaud's poems.

The scribbled poetry has long been unclear whether it is Rimbaud's or Verlaine's. The memory is so vague and clear, tormenting everyone who is about to die.

He died in the depths of winter, on his desk.

Those appeal letters to other people lost their meaning before they arrived.

The frozen body was found by a friend who came to the door the next day, a pair of green eyes lost their vitality, staring at the draft on the table forever...

He seemed to be regretting that he hadn't done all the tidying up.

[To Mr. Wang Qiu. 】

【I feel like I'm going to die... I'm asking you, can you come here?I have Rimbaud's collection of poetry here, and I don't want it to fall into the hands of others.I'm sorry, I can't get in touch with Rimbaud, I'm really sorry for him, sorry for everyone...but I don't want to die...I don't want to die...]

[I know that only you will save me, please, I need a lot of medical expenses, otherwise I can't afford to live in an expensive hospital...]

[I can't find a reason to live, but I don't want to die, you know?Matilda hated me and gave me a lot of things, all of which were harmful to my body. I don't blame her, and I don't hate her for taking her son away without a word...]

【so cold……】

【This terrible winter...it's so cold...all my friends are leaving me...】

【You are the only one who cares about me...】

【Thank you... Wang Qiu...】

Mottled tears left crumpled marks on the letter paper.

Ma Shengqiu couldn't tell what he felt after receiving the letter. It was chaotic and absurd. A series of sad emotions disrupted his life plan. He had just sent the medical expenses to France, and saw Paul in the newspaper in the afternoon. Verlaine's death.

Paul Verlaine, who should have served two years in prison just like the historical track, lived to be 50 years old after being released from prison, and won the title of "King of Poets"...

Died at...31.

The terrible crimes, vicious gifts, ridicule in the literary world, and nearly two years of hard physical labor completely destroyed the other party's body and mind.

Fate was broken and Paul Verlaine died in a desperate winter.

Ma Shengqiu suddenly couldn't read the newspaper in his hand.

In front of his eyes, there seemed to be a pair of green eyes, melancholy and lifeless, as if unable to fly after being broken wings.

"Why are you thanking me..."

"Do you know...it's me who smiled and watched you go this far..."

"It was I who changed you from 'crime of intentional injury' to 'crime of sodomy', it was I who made you change from a simple two-year prison term to two years of heavy physical labor, and it was I who single-handedly pushed you to have nothing in France. ending……"

"—I'm taking revenge on you."

He supported his cheek with one hand, his movements changed, his eyes couldn't help looking at the void, blinking anxiously and chaotically, his fingers finally covered his lips, and pushed away various documents and novels on the desk.

He didn't want to make a sound, and was panting shortly and oppressively.

Is there oxygen in the air, or poisonous gas?

……

Why why why... I actually felt pain for no reason.

Is this the price of killing the "enemy"?

That person is dead.