MTL - He Became a Salted Fish After Inheriting Millions of Secret Arts-Chapter 54 Macbeth (1)

In an instant, many pictures appeared in Duan Feizhuo's mind.

The garland on May Day, the coat draped over his shoulders on the train, the umbrella held up on the streets of Aberdeen, the cigars extinguished in the ashtray, the petty jealousy for other girls, the care for the people he cares about...

A little bit of goodwill gradually accumulated, and a qualitative change did not know when it would happen.

How could it be wishful thinking?

But...is it possible for him to be with Z...?

Duan Feizhuo stared at Z. For a moment, he wished he had been mistaken. Maybe Z just has fellowship with him and has no other meaning. In that case... If you don't have any hope, you won't be disappointed.

Seeing that he didn't speak for a long time, Z asked, "Don't you want to?"

"I…"

"You don't like me? Is it because of my physical disability?"

Z is so concerned about his own physical defects. He was really surprised.

Z is always so strong and cold, as if he was born to be integrated with the machine. But he wasn't like this before. He used to be an ordinary person too. He didn't become like this voluntarily.

Duan Feizhuo suddenly remembered what Mr. Thales had said. Don't sympathize with Z, sometimes sympathy will hurt the self-esteem of others.

"I don't care about that." Duan Feizhuo muttered, "I just...just..."

One of them is the leader of the night guards, and the other is the owner of the world's largest occult item store. They were supposed to be natural rivals, but they were able to get together with Z only because Duan Feizhuo concealed his identity.

How long can this concealment last?

It's like hanging a sword of Damocles above your head, which may fall at any time.

"Then do you care about my past?" Z asked, "Because of the crimes I committed?"

"I don't care about your past." Duan Feizhuo said hoarsely, "The important thing is who you are now, isn't it?"

The corner of Z's mouth twitched, "I don't think I'm a good person now."

"What about me?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

Z raised his head, his crimson eyes sparkled, "You are fine, you have always been fine. I knew it when I first met you. Not every doctor can make people pay ransom willingly. You It must be very popular. Everything you did later verified my thoughts time and time again."

Z's evaluation was so high that Duan Feizhuo began to feel guilty.

He knew he was not the perfect moral role model Z imagined.

"Z...I..." He ducked his eyes, "You know, I've got the powers of Duncan McClane and Jack the Ripper. I'm the mystic, and you...you're the leader of the Night's Watch..."

Z stared at the wreath in his hand, and said in a low voice, "The mystic...isn't bad either."

If it weren't for the mystic, he would never have seen the wreath.

Duan Feizhuo carefully observed his expression. "You really don't mind if I become a mystic?"

"You're not what you used to be. But to me, you'll always be you."

When he said this, Duan Feizhuo felt even more guilty. He felt that he had deceived Z and obtained his sincerity by dishonorable means. If Z knew his true identity, how could he say "you will always be you"?

As soon as he thought of this, endless bitterness flooded his heart.

Shouldn't this grand deception end?

He had long wanted to close the secret trading house, but he couldn't put it into practice due to various reasons. Maybe now is the time to act?

The game of double-faced undercover cannot be played forever. The mystic and the night watchman, he can only choose one of them in the end.

Yet even if he chooses to close the trading house, stay away from the Occult Society forever, and join the Night's Watch, his old deceit will not go away.

What should he do if something happened to him one day?

Can Z forgive him for lying for so long?

After hesitating for a long time, Duan Feizhuo finally choked out a sentence, "No matter what I become from now on, will you accept me?"

"Of course." Z was a little strange, "Am I just so dishonest in your heart?"

"Even if I'm not the kind of person you imagined?"

Z raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Duan Feizhuo said hastily. If he goes on like this, he will expose himself.

"Then can I understand it as..." Z paused, "You accept it?"

A long time passed.

"...Mmm." Duan Feizhuo made a weak voice.

Z's eyes lit up. Duan Feizhuo had never seen him so energetic. It was as if a young man full of vigor smiled at him through that pale and handsome face.

Z took his hand, lowered his head and kissed him lightly.

His lips were so cold, but the place where he kissed seemed to be burning, piercing Duan Feizhu's skin with pain.

Z suddenly laughed.

"What's wrong?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

"Generally speaking, this kind of confession occasion should be more romantic. There should be flowers and music." Z picked up the withered wreath and hung it back on the bedside, "but we only have this. It feels so shabby."

"It's much better than flowers and music." Duan Feizhuo said hoarsely.

Z leaned forward, hugged him gently, and combed his hair with his fingers.

When Z killed people, he acted swiftly and cleanly, but his actions are so gentle now that he is afraid of hurting the person in his arms.

After a long time, he let go.

"I must go back. The trip is delayed for a few days, and I have to write a report to Carter."

Duan Feizhuo held Z's hand reluctantly. With a smile in his eyes, Z squeezed his fingers.

"I'll leave you my home address. If you need... I mean, if you feel unwell, you can come to me anytime."

After speaking, he opened the door and walked out.

Duan Feizhuo heard him tell Al to get a pen and paper and write down his home address. After Al finished memorizing it, he recited it again to confirm that it was correct. Then there was the sound of doors opening and closing.

Z left.

Duan Feizhuo looked at the ceiling, feeling that everything was so unreal.

The bedroom door creaked and opened a small crack. Al's small eyes peeped through the crack of the door.

"Master, can I come in?" the boy asked timidly.

"What's wrong?"

"That night policeman, did he...do something extreme to you?" Al looked like he was about to cry, "But, **** it! He is clearly a policeman, but he knows how to break the law!"

Duan Feizhuo burst out laughing. What is this child thinking about all day long?

"He didn't do anything. Don't worry."

Al finally breathed a sigh of relief, "That's great!"

Duan Feizhuo laughed dryly.

"Al, what would you think if I said I was going to close the secret trading house?"

"What?!" Al jumped up like a spring on his feet, "Why, master? Could it be that the night policeman discovered your identity?"

"No. I should say, not yet. I just... don't want to drive any more."

"But the secret trading house is the largest secret art store in the world. If you close the store, what will the customers do?" Al's face was full of distress.

"There are other stores anyway."

"But the Secret Realm Trading Company is unique!" the boy insisted, "What other stores cannot do, only you, only the Secret Realm Trading Company can do! Help my mother sell blind boxes, help Lord Perilla sell his father's Inheritance... what would we do without you!"

He was right, the secret trading house did help some people. But…

"Al," Duan Feizhuo said sullenly, "If I say I'm going to join the night police in the future, what do you think?"

The boy showed a terrified expression. "Aren't you undercover with the night police? Why did you join them? Are you going to betray the mystic?"

"It can't be called betrayal. I just... well, I really can't live this kind of double-faced undercover life." Duan Feizhuo raised his eyes and looked at the young man, "If you think I betrayed the mystic, betrayed You, then you can leave at any time, I will not blame you. Of course, I will not betray you to the night policeman. Even if the trading house is closed, the secret contract of all customers is still valid. I cannot disclose the identity of the customer, customer Nor can I reveal my identity."

Al stared at his feet with a warlike expression on his face.

He hesitated for a while, then clenched his fists.

"Master, I am willing to follow you! Whether you are on the side of the night watchman or the mystic, I, Alfred Willow, will always be on your side!"

Duan Feizhuo couldn't help being greatly moved, but at the same time, he was also relieved a lot.

"Thank you, Al," he said softly. "You go out, I want to sleep. Tomorrow...tomorrow I'm going to visit Mr. Yeats."

"Then I'll help you iron the clothes you're going to wear tomorrow!" Al has always cared about his master's image. After all, if Duan Feizhuo was sloppy, people would only think that the servant did not fulfill his duty.

He took out his shirt and coat from the closet, tiptoed out of the bedroom, and closed the door gently.

Duan Feizhuo took down the garland on the bedside. It is now withered and withered, and it is more or less a grass ring.

He put the wreath on his chest, imagining that it was Z's arm on his body, and then fell into a deep sleep.

Yeats spent most of his time in the bookshop he ran in Charing Cross Road.

Charing Cross Road was as bustling as ever. Duan Feizhuo crossed the street, walked into a dark street familiarly, and finally came to the door of Yeats' bookstore.

William Butler Yeats, future Nobel Prize winner, sitting in a bookstore reading. Seeing Duan Feizhuo, he raised his head and smiled.

"A rare visitor. I heard from Al that you have recently traveled far away. You should tell me about your experiences in distant countries."

Duan Feizhuo smiled helplessly at him.

"I have something urgent to discuss with you."

Yeats understood, and asked Duan Feizhuo to sit down, and at the same time closed the door of the bookstore.

Duan Feizhuo didn't know where to start. He intends to close the secret trading house, but he can't make up his mind, so he can only ask Yeats for advice.

Yeats was a much more experienced mystic than him, and one of the few reliable mystics he knew. Apart from him, Duan Feizhuo couldn't find another person to talk to.

He touched the magic circle talisman paper in the secret trading house in his pocket.

The secret trading house is not only a store, but also a platform for the exchange of mystics from all over the world. Two people who are at the opposite ends of the earth and may not be able to meet each other in reality can reach the same place in an instant and talk to each other without any obstacles.

Duan Feizhuo had never realized how important and great a place Joseph Chester had built.

He wants to close the place. Cut off the link between the mystics.

Is this really the right thing to do?

He didn't want to lie to Z anymore, but he was reluctant to close the trading house.

Should he become a night vigilante or a mystic?

Who is he? Which side should we stand on?

After a long silence, Duan Feizhuo finally opened the conversation, "Mr. Yeats, I want to close the secret trading house."

After speaking, he paused, waiting for Yeats to panic or fly into a rage.

However, the scene he thought did not appear at all.

The future great writer just looked at him with strange eyes, and asked hesitantly, "...can you say it again?"

Duan Feizhuo had to repeat his own words, "I want to close the trading bank. Close it permanently."

"Are you terminally ill too?"

"...What?" Duan Feizhuo didn't know.

"That's what the previous owner of the trading house said one day. He's terminally ill, so the trading house is closing. Could it be you too... Is this job cursed?"

No wonder Yeats reacted so strangely. Not long after Joseph Chester passed away, his nephew said exactly the same thing, and it was hard not to associate it in a pessimistic direction. secret

Duan Feizhuo said helplessly, "Thank you for your concern, but I am not terminally ill. The reason why the trading house was closed is for my own reasons. I have no intention of running that place anymore."

"However, what should customers do if they want to buy secret art items in the future?"

"How did they do business before the Secret Realm Trading Company appeared, and how they will do business in the future."

Yeats pondered for a moment, leaned forward slightly, and asked in a low voice, "Could this be your marketing method again?"

Duan Feizhuo "...huh?"

"To be honest, I have seen similar tactics. There is a shoe store near my house, and there is a sign at the door saying 'this store will close soon, and all products will be disposed of at a loss', which attracts many customers. But a year later, it has not closed .Do you want to use similar means to promote it?"

Duan Feizhuo burst out laughing. Yeats is worthy of being a writer with such rich imagination.

"You misunderstood. I really intend to close the trading house."

Yeats stared at him to make sure he wasn't joking.

"Why? Could it be because of the Night Watchmen?"

His thinking was much the same as Al's.

Duan Feizhuo sighed, "That's right. I just think it's too painful to be caught between the Night Watchman and the Mystic. As long as I'm still the owner of the Secret Realm Trading Company, I'll be at risk of revealing my identity."

Yeats got up and walked to the door of the bookstore, staring at the street outside. The sun shone on his young face, making him look as if he had stepped out of an oil painting.

"I understand the predicament you are facing, master of the trading house." He said calmly, "For anyone, running the world's largest occult item store is taking great risks. If you An Wei, if you choose to close the trading house, I don't think anyone will blame you."

He seemed to think that Duan Feizhuo made this decision because he was afraid of being arrested by the night police.

After all, some places are terribly accurate, and some places are terribly wrong.

"However," Yeats turned around, "you didn't directly announce the closure of the business, but you consulted with me first, which means that you are still hesitating, right?"

Duan Feizhuo nodded silently. Yeats' sharp eyes saw right through him.

"Actually, at the beginning, I didn't want to inherit the secret trading company at all. It was purely accidental." Duan Feizhuo never mentioned this topic to anyone, "I wanted to close it from the very beginning. So far. To help the Al family, to deal with the relics of the old Lord Perilla... I know that the secret trading house is indispensable for the mystics, and I know that its existence can help many people. Closing it will definitely cause all kinds of problems. All sorts of inconveniences, but I…”

He was speechless. He likes Z, and he wants to be with Z, so he must get rid of the identity of the owner of the trading house. He couldn't imagine what it would be like after Z found out the truth. He couldn't take that kind of blow.

He looked to Yeats for help, hoping the poet could advise him. If Yeats also agreed with him to close the business, he would tear up the talisman paper without saying a word. If Yeats wanted him to continue the business, it was not impossible for him to consider it.

Yeats saw through his mind and showed a faint smile. "The secret trading house is your private property, no matter what you do with it, it is your freedom. I respect your decision."

"It is precisely because I am in a dilemma that I need your advice."

"You don't need my advice. You just need to follow your own heart."

Seeing Duan Feizhuo's dazed and confused face, Yeats smiled and shook his head.

"The secret trading house was not established overnight. Even if you want to close it, you don't have to rush it. Why don't you spend a few more days thinking about it?"

That's right. It was really too hasty to make a decision at this time.

Maybe in a few days, he can come up with a way to get the best of both worlds?

"Then I'll think about it again." Duan Feizhuo said helplessly.

Yeats bowed slightly to him.

The bell on the door of the bookstore jingled. There are guests.

The two of them closed their mouths at the same time, and stared at the door vigilantly.

A young man about the same age as Duan Feizhuo pushed the door open and entered. He is dressed luxuriously, as if he was born in the upper class, but the style of his clothes is a bit outdated. Duan Feizhuo guessed that he was not from London, but probably a squire from a remote county.

The young man's eyes fell on Yeats. He smiled and warmly greeted Yeats.

"Do you remember me, sir?" he said with a heavy Irish accent. "I'm John Clearwater! We met in Dublin, don't you forget?"

Yeats thought for a moment, and suddenly became cheerful. "It's you!" He shook hands with the young man, "I haven't seen you for many years! How are your parents and sister?"

"Thanks to you, my parents are still in good health. They asked me to say hello to you." The young man named John said happily.

Yeats turned to Duan Feizhuo, and introduced happily, "This is my fellow in Ireland, Mr. John Clearwater."

Yeats turned to John again. "This gentleman is a friend of mine in London, Mr. Leopold Chester."

"It's an honor to meet you!" John warmly held Duan Feizhuo's hand.

"We haven't seen each other for a long time, I think we should find a cafe or a restaurant and sit down and have a good chat?" Yeats was also in high spirits, and his Irish accent became stronger when he spoke, "By the way, are you free tonight?" Miss Maud Gunn’s new play is on, I’ve bought some tickets, and I’m planning to invite some friends to join in! How about it, Mr. Chester, would you like to go too?”

"Ah... yes." Duan Feizhuo nodded.

Miss Maud Gunn was an actress and also Yeats' dream girl. In history, Yeats wrote many poems and plays for her, and proposed to her several times. However, every marriage proposal ended in failure. In the end, Maud Gunn married someone else, and Yeats... also moved on.

Duan Feizhuo looked helplessly at the great poet. At this time, Yeats still doesn't know how rough his future love life will be... Well, it's better not to tell him.

Duan Feizhuo and Yeats made an appointment to meet at five o'clock in the afternoon, and then went to the theater together. He went home first. To go to the theater to watch a play must be dressed in formal clothes, so he had to change into a dress.

Hearing that the master was going to watch a play with Yeats, Al was so excited that he danced and picked out the half dress. He forced Duan Feizhuo to put on an evening dress, and used hair oil to give him a haircut. Duan Feizhuo looked in the mirror and always felt that this hairstyle would reveal the weakness of his hairline...

You can't carry weapons when you go to the theater, so Duan Feizhuo put the sword in the stone in the trading house, and only brought the magic circle talisman paper with him.

At five o'clock in the afternoon, Yeats appeared downstairs in a carriage on time. Duan Feizhuo dressed like a dog and went downstairs, only to find that Yeats was dressed more exaggeratedly than him. Because he was going to meet the goddess in his heart, Yeats tried his best to clean himself up. Duan Feizhuo looked at it and wanted to laugh.

In contrast, John Clearwater is much more plain. But when he first arrived in London, he was not so particular.

Duan Feizhuo boarded the carriage. Yeats said to the coachman, "17 Connaught Garden Street."

The carriage moved slowly. Fearing that Duan Feizhuo would not be willing to take a long way, John deliberately explained, "My younger sister is currently living at 17 Connaught Garden Street. To be precise, that is the home of her godmother. A few days ago, the old lady passed away. She No relatives, only one goddaughter, my sister Madeleine. It was supposed to be Madeleine's funeral. But she was too young and inexperienced, so I came to London to help."

Yeats lowered his voice mysteriously, "John, they are all our own."

John raised his eyebrows and looked at Duan Feizhuo in surprise, "Are you also a mystic?"

Since they are all on their own, there is no need to hide that Duan Feizhuo, so he nodded.

John beamed: "It's been such a privilege to meet a mystic. My sister is also a mystic. Her godmother was actually her mentor and she came to London to learn occult philosophy from her godmother."

"Then you are also a mystic?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

John lowered his head shyly, "No, I don't have that ability, so the one who inherits my family's secret arts is Madeleine—my younger sister."

Duan Feizhuo asked, "It turns out that not all children in the mystic family can learn esoteric philosophy?"

"Normally all kids learn it," John said, "but I wasn't born that way, so I gave up. My sister was more gifted than I was. And my father had been involved in the Irish independence movement, and he I would rather be in politics than a occultist."

Duan Feizhuo understood. At the end of the Victorian era, the Irish independence movement was in the ascendant. The goddess Yeats admired, Miss Maud Gunn, was a staunch supporter of the Irish nationalist movement.

The carriage arrived at Connaught Garden Street and stopped in front of No. 17 townhouse.

John jumped out of the carriage and knocked excitedly on the door.

Not long after, the door opened. A girl appeared at the door. Her facial features are very similar to John, presumably his sister Madeleine.

Perhaps because she was in mourning for her godmother, she wore a long black dress and veil, but for today's social activities, she also wore a luxurious fur shawl.

"Madeleine!" John kissed his sister's face twice, "Are you ready? Can you go straight away?"

Compared with the enthusiasm of the elder brother, the younger sister is much colder.

"Of course, dear brother." She took her brother's hand, and John helped her down the stairs.

"Madeleine, why are you wearing this shawl?" John stared at the fur on his sister's shoulders, "Don't you feel hot?"

It's early summer, and even though it's still a bit chilly at night, wearing a fur shawl is really weird.

"This is a gift from Mrs. Boyle." Madeleine said lightly, "I want to express my love and respect to her. Besides, we are going to the Grand Theater today. If I dress too shabby, I'm afraid I'll embarrass you .”

"That's right." John scratched his head.

Yeats leaned closer to Duan Feizhuo, and said in a low voice, "Mrs. Boyle is that lady's godmother. She passed away a few days ago."

"Ah... oh..." Duan Feizhuo looked at Miss Madeleine's shawl, tongue tied.

He recognized the shawl.

That shawl is not a mortal thing, but a secret art item with special power. Under the command of the master, it can turn into a spirit fox and attack the enemy.

The owner of the shawl was the old woman who sold him the phantom phosphorescent powder. She always has a girl with her.

Could it be that they were Mrs Boyle and Madeleine Madeleine?

Is this a coincidence? It is!

Duan Feizhuo sincerely lamented how small the world is.

But having said that, just a few days ago, he saw the old woman in the trading house, and he didn't expect her to pass away so soon. It can only be said that things are unpredictable!

Madeleine's frosty eyes turned to Yeats and Duan Feizhuo behind him.

In an instant, her eyes changed.

She stared straight at Duan Feizhuo, as if she had witnessed some kind of strange scene like the Arabian Nights.

Duan Feizhuo subconsciously touched his face. Did Madeleine recognize him? It doesn't matter even if you recognize it, anyway, all the people present are "our own people".

"This gentleman is..." Madeline wondered.

Only then did John realize that he had forgotten to introduce his companion.

"This is Mr. Leopold Chester, a friend of Mr. Yeats."

Madeleine suddenly pushed her brother away and walked towards Duan Feizhuo aggressively. The latter took a step back in fright, not understanding why the girl became interested in him.

She stopped in front of Duan Feizhuo, looked at his face, and then broke into a gorgeous smile.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Chester." Madeleine held out a hand gracefully.

Duan Feizhuo cupped her jade hand and gave her an air kiss.

The girl turned to her brother and said lazily, "Let's go quickly, if we delay, we will be late."

After speaking, she lifted her skirt and boarded the carriage.

John scratched his head and muttered in a low voice, "I haven't seen you for a few months, why has this kid's temperament changed so much?"

Yeats smiled helplessly, "Perhaps girls at this age are changeable."

Only Duan Feizhuo felt uncomfortable. The Miss Madeleine in his impression was innocent and lively, by no means such a cold and lazy temperament. After a few days of not seeing each other, will people really change their temperament? Shocked by the death of someone close to you? Or is it that Madeleine was born with two faces, one in front of her mentor and another in front of her brother?

Although Miss Madeleine was acting eccentrically, the play had to be attended to. The group sat down in the carriage and went to Leicester Square in the West End of London.

The West End of London has always been the center of British drama. There are countless large and small theaters. It is very lively at night, and the streets are crowded with horse-drawn carriages.

The carriage that Duan Feizhuo and the others were riding finally squeezed to the entrance of the theater. Because the departure time was earlier, although there was a lot of delay on the road, there was still a long time before the drama began.

In front of the theater door stood a huge poster. A man and a woman stood back to back, and three black-clothed witches stood behind them. "Macbeth" is written in huge fonts in the center of the poster, and the names of the leading actors are below it.

Lady Macbeth played by Maud Gunn.

"So what we're going to watch today is Macbeth." Duan Feizhuo said. He had been remiss in not even asking Yeats what play they were seeing before setting off.

Yeats suddenly raised a finger and let out a "shh".

"Remember, sir, that the name of the play must never be mentioned in the theater. If you must, say 'the Scottish play.'"

Duan Feizhuo was at a loss, "Why?"

"It is said that this play has a curse, and just mentioning the name of the play will bring misfortune." Yeats said with certainty, as if he had seen the curse come.

John echoed, "Yeah, there have been several accidents! It is said that the actor who played Lady Macbeth died suddenly backstage at the premiere of this Scottish play, Macbeth."

Yeats added that "in 1849, during a performance in the United States, a riot broke out in the theater, resulting in the death of 20 people."

"It's better to believe what is there than to believe what is not!" John sighed.

Duan Feizhuo had nothing to say. Well, since this is the rule in their drama world, then he can do as the Romans do.

Miss Madeleine chuckled. "Maybe something will happen tonight."

"Madeleine! Don't talk nonsense!" John was nervous.

"I'm going to buy a bunch of flowers," said Yeats.

Watching the performance of the goddess, how can you not send flowers?

There were many flower girls wandering around the theater, shouting, "Ladies and gentlemen, buy a bouquet of flowers for your favorite actor! It's not love if you don't even send flowers!"

Good guy, Duan Feizhuo really wants to send them a promotional slogan, if you don't vote, I don't vote, when will my sister come out.

Yeats went to the one closest to them and bought a bouquet of bright red roses from her.

When he came back, he looked a little strange.

"Have you noticed that there seem to be a lot of police around the theater?"

Duan Feizhuo also sneakily looked left and right when he heard the words, and sure enough, he found several patrolmen strolling around, and everyone was staring at the door with piercing eyes. There were also a few people who were mixed in the crowd and didn't wear police uniforms, but they exuded a well-trained temperament in their gestures, and they were plainclothes policemen at a glance.

John frowned, "Probably because today's starring is Miss Maud Gunn. Many celebrities who support the Irish independence movement will come to watch her performance. The police are worried that there will be trouble, so they have arranged it in advance."

They stood at the entrance of the theater for a long time, attracting the attention of many passers-by, and the police also followed them.

"Let's go in first." Yeats said seriously.

All agreed. They filed into the gate, Yeats and Duan Feizhuo walked in the front, John followed behind, holding his sister's arm. After checking the tickets at the gate, they entered the theater.

It was still early for the opening, but many spectators were already seated. Like modern times, many hawkers shuttle between the seats, selling snacks.

The ticket Yeats bought was in the front row. A group of people were about to cross the aisle to find a seat when a sarcastic voice came from behind.

"Hey, isn't this Mr. Yeats, the great poet? Are you here to watch the play?"

Duan Feizhuo turned around. A strange young man walked towards them leaning on a civilized stick. He was about the same age as Yeats, with a neat suit, a greasy hair and a powder face, and a pure gold watch chain dangling on his chest, attracting attention.

Yeats' expression darkened, and he said coldly, "You also come to the play, Earl Root."

"Miss Maud Gunn's new play, how can I miss it?" Earl Root smiled slightly, his eyes resting on the bouquet in Yeats' hands, "Oh, you bought the flowers for Maud Gunn Is it the lady's? It was very kind. I also sent the servant to buy flowers. Look, here he is."

A footman came strutting into the theater, holding a huge bouquet of flowers that nearly covered his upper body. Yeats' bouquet looked very shabby by comparison.

Earl Root winked at the servant, "Send it to the backstage, Miss Maud Gunn's dressing room."

"Yes, yes, Earl!" The valet moved backstage with difficulty.

Duan Feizhuo understood immediately. Earl Root is probably Yeats' rival in love, and both of them are pursuing Miss Maud Gunn.

Competing with the rich and powerful earl in krypton gold ability, Yeats naturally fell to the disadvantage.

Seeing that Yeats looked down, Earl Root became more proud, "I'm going to my box. Where is Mr. Yeats' box? Maybe in the halftime lounge, I can go to you to discuss literature."

He glanced at the theater ticket in Yeats's hand and smiled, "Oh, I forgot, not everyone is like me and can reserve a box in the theater."

Yeats' eyes became colder and colder. Before he said anything, John lost his composure. The young Irishman regarded Yeats as an idol, how could he be so ridiculed?

John took a step forward, standing between Yeats and Earl Root.

"Flowers can only decorate a dressing room," John folded his arms and said in a cold tone, "but only poetry can touch people's souls. If you want to court Miss Maud Gunn, you'd better go back to school and study for two more years."

The corner of Earl Root’s mouth twitched, and he looked John from head to toe, showing disdain, “Mr. Yeats, is this your fellow Irishman? If poor people keep hanging around, I'm afraid everyone will treat you as the same person."

"You...!" John was furious, wishing he could punch Earl Root in the face with his fist. But Yeats reached out and pressed his shoulder.

"Forget it, John." The poet tried not to get angry, and said calmly, "There is no need to be angry with this kind of person, it will lower your grade."

Earl Root glanced at John with disgust, then turned the same gaze to his sister Madeleine, and Duan Feizhuo, who was beside him without any sense of presence.

He gazed at Madeleine with interest, and there was a disgusting sensuality in his eyes.

When he looked at Duan Feizhuo, his attitude became even more domineering. He smiled contemptuously, and raised his chin, "Mr. Yeats, you really are, even if you bring people to cheer on Miss Maud Gunn, at least find a few decent ones. This kind of people sit in the theater , people thought it was a beggar sneaking in."

Duan Feizhuo's fist hardened. He really wants to play a mixed doubles game with John now.

The group of them had been "chatting" at the entrance of the theater for so long that many people regarded their dispute as an appetizer before the performance of the play, and surrounded them with great interest.

Seeing that the way in and out of the theater was about to be blocked by people eating melons, the theater staff hurried over to disperse the crowd.

"Hmph, I won't waste time with you guys." After saying this, Earl Root put the Civilization Staff under his arm and prepared to go upstairs.

Suddenly, someone stopped him at the entrance of the theater, "Oh, isn't this Henry! Long time no see, come here and let me have a look!"

Earl Root was petrified. He turned around slowly, with a stiff smile on his face, "Aunt Edith..."

The woman he called Aunt Edith, old Lady Edith, Lady Perilla, walked into the theater accompanied by her son.

Although the old lady Edith was getting old, her face was covered with traces of time and wind and frost, but the arrogance and restraint on her body shone like polished steel. As soon as she walked into the theater, it was as if the queen was here, and the people around her automatically dwarfed her.

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