The inside of the restaurant, which is about 30 square meters, is brightly lit.

Instead of using convenient and cheap kerosene lamps, gorgeous tall candles are used to illuminate the entire space, completely separating it from the cold and dark world outside the window.

At both ends of the long dining table, there were two people, an old man and a young man.

One was a black boy of about eleven or twelve years old, thin and taciturn; The other is a white old man in his sixties, tall and burly, with a cold face. At each end of the long table were a thick soup, a veal, and a piece of mashed potatoes, except for an extra glass of scarlet wine in front of the old man.

The two of them ate their own dinner quietly.

John Huntelaar tried to follow the etiquette of his mother's church, swallowing a piece of veal as quickly as possible without making too much noise, so that his hungry stomach could be comforted.

After sitting down, he barely looked at the old man on the other side of the table.

At the other end of the table, Mr. Al Huntelaar ate slowly, sipping the wine at hand from time to time, and seemed to be focused on his plate, but Hans Elber, the butler who was waiting on the side, could see at a glance that his old master's eyes were at least a few meters away!

The corners of Mr. Butler's mouth couldn't help but curve a little.

Ten minutes later, as John finished his third veal of the meal, the silent dinner between the two ended, and the old Mr. Huntelaar, who had been waiting for a while, wiped his mouth with a snow-white napkin and said indifferently to his grandson, who had met for the first time: "The long journey is very hard, so you should go and rest first!" ”

The content of the words was concern, but the cold voice made people feel cold in their hearts.

"Okay."

John didn't feel much about this, he just nodded, stood up and bowed slightly to his grandfather and said, "Good night, sir!" ”

"Good night."

Old Huntelaar nodded at Hans, and the faithful butler immediately went up to John's side, and said with a smile, "Sir, your room is ready, and Miss Lina will take you up." ”

"Thank you."

Nodding slightly, John turned around and went upstairs with the guidance of the kerosene lamp in the maid's hand.

"A well-bred child, isn't he?"

When Hans, the butler, returned to Huntelaar's side, his face showed an extremely complicated look, and he whispered as if he had some hesitation: "Forgive me, sir, for my recklessness, but whether it is his calm and graceful every move, or his generous and appropriate language, the shadow of Miss Elizabeth flashes on his body. And you've just heard it, whether it's English, German, or Latin, he's also very good......"

"Elizabeth ......"

Old Mr. Huntelaar didn't pay any attention to Hans's words, for when he heard the name of his beloved daughter, a look of pain flashed in his eyes, and he slowly stood up as he muttered her name.

"Sir, are you going back to your room?"

With a secret sigh in his heart, Hans asked in a low voice with a quiet face.

"Hmm."

Answering softly, old Huntelaar's body paused slightly, and suddenly he spoke: "Hans, John's figure seems to be much taller than we expected, and a little thinner...... Tomorrow you can take him to Mr. Smith to make some more clothes. Wearing ill-fitting clothes on the body is quite rude. ”

"Yes, sir."

Looking at the back of old Huntlaar going upstairs, Hans blinked after a moment of silence, and finally there was a hint of warmth in his eyes......

……

"Sir, if you need anything, please shake this bell and I will come at once."

After lighting the kerosene lamp in the room, Lina explained to John again with some uneasiness, and then left the room with a gentle bow.

"Whew!"

After locking the door and making sure that he was the only one in the room, John breathed a heavy sigh of relief and turned to look at the room he was in.

From the maid's mouth, he learned that this was where his mother once lived.

Perhaps because he had not lived in the room for more than ten years, the furnishings in the room were extremely simple, a large bed, a bedside table, a wardrobe, and a table made up the whole room, and the only thing that caught John's eye was the one-meter-square oil painting on one wall.

Walking to the front of the painting, John looked at the smiling girl in the painting.

The girl is only sixteen or seventeen years old, standing sideways in the painting, with a thick brown long knot hanging at the back of her head, a long white neck and rounded shoulders, and a classical white dress embellished with green patterns perfectly presents her tall figure. Directly above the picture, the girl's well-defined face turned to face John, revealing a smile like a spring breeze.

Looking at this painting, John Huntelaar's eyes couldn't help but flash a gloomy color.

Although the person in the painting was too young to be quite different from the face in his memory, he recognized the identity of the person in the painting at a glance - it was Elisabeth Huntelaar, her mother, and perhaps the only person in the world who truly loved him.

After looking at it in a daze for a long time, John sighed softly and lay down on the soft and comfortable bed.

A strong sense of exhaustion came over like a tide!

It was only at this point that John completely relaxed, and the tiredness that had accumulated for nearly two months naturally began to take control of his brain and body. But even though he was mentally and physically exhausted to the limit, he could never really sleep, just as he had been in the carriage in the afternoon. On the one hand, it was naturally because of the strangeness of a new environment, and on the other hand, it was because of the grandfather he had just met.

Al Huntelaar, 62, an upright but old-fashioned Prussian gentleman, left Europe during the German Revolution and put down roots in New York City.

As a businessman, Mr. Huntelaar Sr. was undoubtedly successful, and with some capital brought from the Big 6 in Europe, he spent nearly twenty years amassing a fairly handsome family fortune in New York City, and according to Mr. Slark, Mr. Huntelaar Sr. had a net income of at least four or five thousand dollars a year, which was enough for him to easily afford a large three-story house, a housekeeper, a cook, a maid, and a manservant.

But as a father, the elder Huntlaar was undoubtedly a great failure.

John didn't know what had happened between his mother and his grandfather, only that his mother, Elizabeth Huntelaar, had fled New York thirteen years earlier and gone to Beijing, China, thousands of miles away, and had her own. For more than ten years, father and daughter never communicated with each other, until a year after Elizabeth Huntelaar died of illness, Mr. Slark suddenly appeared in John's presence and forcibly took him back to New York.

As a traditional European gentleman, the behavior of his daughter Elizabeth was undoubtedly a great shame for the elder Huntelaar, so it is understandable that John was treated coldly.

The thought of his grandfather's silent face made John's head hurt more and more. No matter what he thinks, for a long time to come, I am afraid that he will have to live in this house and be raised by old Mr. Huntelaar!

And......

"And later?"

Staring at a pair of eyes in a daze, John Huntelaar was at a loss: "How can I survive in New York at the end of the 19th century?" ”

At this very moment, John Huntelaar, no, it should be said that Liu Zecheng, an ordinary person from the 21st century, is thinking very seriously about this important question that will affect his life for the next few decades......

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