噺 (8) 壹 Chinese 網ωωω.χ8.1zщ.còм 哽噺繓赽捌 (一) Novel 説蛧

Although Tang Zhaozong was a little proud, because the emperor was the emperor, he withdrew unharmed again.

However, in the face of the East Francian Empire, which suffered heavy casualties, plus the construction fund of the Tang East Persian Province, the Tang West Persian Province, and the Tang Minor Asia Minor Province, which had been spent all the money, he could not go back.

Therefore, Tang Zhaozong could only leave behind those East Frankish cavalry, and those Zoroastrians in East Persian Province and West Persian Province, and he returned to his palace in Yingzhou City, the native city of the Tang Dynasty.

According to Tang Zhaozong's character, he will not be idle. If he was free one day, it would make Tang Zhaozong feel extremely uncomfortable, so he began to practice martial arts.

When the news reached Tang Zhangwei's ears, Tang Zhangwei smiled and said, "That's good. “

Yakovlevich, why didn't you answer me a word, I have long been interested in you," our lady said again.

"You ask him!" Semyon Yakovlevich ignored her and suddenly pointed to the landlord who was kneeling there.

The monk from the monastery received the order and walked slowly to the landlord.

"What crime have you committed? Didn't you be told what to do? ”

"Tell me not to fight, not to do anything at will," replied the landlord hoarsely.

"Did you do it?" The monk asked.

"I couldn't do it, my own strength overcame me."

"Get him out, get him out! Kick him out with a broomstick, with a broom! "Semyon. Yakovlevich waved his hands. The landlord did not wait for anyone to punish him, but he jumped up and ran out of the room.

"He left a gold coin where he knelt," the monk announced in a loud voice, picking it up from the ground.

"Give it to him!" Semyon Yakovlevich pointed with a finger at the merchant who had a fortune. The merchant did not dare to refuse, so he accepted it.

"Gold to gold," said the monk from the monastery. "Give this man a cup of sweetened tea," Semyon Yakovlevich pointed to Mavriki Nikolayevich. The servant poured a cup of tea, but he was mistaken and gave it to the dude with the glasses on his nose.

"To that tall man, tall man," Semyon Yakovlevich corrected him.

Mavriki Nikolayevich took the teacup, bowed slightly like a soldier, and drank it. I don't know why, but our people all burst out laughing.

"Mavriki Nikolayevich!" Lisa said to him, "The kneeling gentleman is gone, you go and kneel where he is." ”

Mavriki Nikolayevich looked at her inexplicably.

"I ask you to do so, you will make me feel a great honor. Listen to me, Mavriki Nikolayevich," she said suddenly, resolutely, stubbornly, passionately, quickly, "you must kneel, I must see you kneeling there." If you don't kneel, then don't come to me. I have to kneel, I have to kneel! ……”

I don't know what she meant by that; But she demanded it resolutely and uncompromisingly, as if in anger. As we shall see later, Mavriki Nikolayevich attributed this willfulness, which she had been frequenting so often lately, to a blind outburst of hatred for him, but this hatred was not maliciously intent, on the contrary, she respected him, loved him, and honored him, and he knew it, a peculiar, unconscious hatred which she could not control at times, in any case.

He silently handed the teacup to an old woman standing behind him, pushed open a small door in the wooden fence, walked uninvited into the half of the room that Semyon Yakovlevich himself occupied, and knelt down in the center of the room in full view of everyone. I think, in his fragile and frank mind, appalled by Lisa's public and rough fooling of him. Perhaps he thought she would be ashamed when she saw that he had been humiliated by her stubbornness. Of course, no one but him would have made up his mind to take such a naïve and not very decent approach to correct a woman's mistakes. He knelt there quietly with his solemn countenance, tall and large, clumsy, and ridiculous. Yet none of our people laughed; This unexpected move had a painful effect. Everyone looked at Lisa.

"Olive oil, olive oil!" Semyon Yakovlevich muttered.

Lisa's face turned pale, and she screamed and "oops" again, and rushed behind the wooden fence. Then there was a quick, hysterical scene: she spared no effort to pull Mavriki Nikolayevich by the elbow with both hands, trying to pull him up.

"You stand up, stand up!" She cried out like crazy, "Stand up now, now!" How dare you kneel! ”

Mavriki Nikolaevich stood up. She wrapped her arms tightly around his arms above the elbow with both hands, staring at his face. There was a look of horror in her eyes.

"Beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes!" Semyon Yakovlevich repeated it again.

She finally pulled Mavriki Nikolayevich back out of the wooden fence; There was a strong commotion in our group. The lady in our carriage, probably trying to divert everyone's attention, asked Semyon Yakovlevich for the third time loudly and sharply, with the usual pretentious smile on her face:

"Why, Semyon Yakovlevich, won't you 'say' something to me? I have great hopes for you. ”

"Go...... Yours, yours! ......" Semyon Yakovlevich suddenly said a very lewd word at her. This sentence is very powerful, and it is very clear. Our ladies screamed and ran out as hard as they could, while the men burst into laughter. This is the end of our visit to Semyon Yakovlevich.

But it was said that a very mysterious event had taken place at this time, and I must admit that it was mainly for this event that I gave such a detailed account of the trip.

It is said that when everyone rushed out, Lisa, supported by Mavriki Nikolai Kovich, suddenly met Nikolai Vsevolodovich in the crowd crowding at the door. It should be noted that since she passed out that Sunday morning, although they had met more than once, they had both been armed with each other.

(End of chapter)

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