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The wheels of the carriage stepped on the bluestone bricks, slowly advancing in bumps along the way.

Paris is lit up at night.

Since the introduction of the public carriage business in Paris, the private carriage rental business has also developed, but the price of the ride is much more expensive than the public carriage, as high as five or six times the price, and it is generally only the middle class.

Sitting in a carriage, Michel went to the Hôtel Veli near the Louvre, and remembered the manuscript that his former assistant had stuffed in his briefcase, so he took it out, folded it on his lap, and quickly skimmed through it.

After reading the poem and quickly skimming through the beginning of the novel, Michelle frowned, a look of hesitation on his face.

Publishing houses have no interest in poetry, and they will only collaborate with great poets who are famous. After all, publishing new poetry is very risky, and Michelle doesn't want to gamble on it.

As for the "Tavern", at this time Michel had already obtained the authorization of Alexandre Dumas, and planned to vigorously promote it, under the aura of the great writer, so he was not optimistic about the prospects of this novel.

Michelle sighed, it seems that discovering new people is more difficult than she imagined.

When he had finished reading it, he slipped it into his briefcase, and the carriage stopped at the door of the Ritz Hotel, where the coachman tugged on the reins and the wheel came to an abrupt halt.

Through the wooden carriage, the coachman's muffled voice was heard.

"Mr. Michelle, we're already at the Veli Hotel."

The Hôtel Vegli's fame is due to the characters in the novel "Disillusionment" by the great foodie Balzac, and the brilliant portrayal of Lucien de Lubambauré in the hotel in the face of the price of expensive dishes.

It is a flashy building in the Baroque style, with marble carvings and decorations, covering the walls and arches of the building. Irregular curves and stone carvings shape the Veli Hotel into an opulent and elegant palace.

The crowds in and out were elegant gentlemen and ladies, and a dinner at the Veli Hotel could make even the rural squires of the provinces smack.

Here, there is no difference between a provincial landlord and a man without trousers.

This is the drunken Paris, the bustling capital.

Michel paid the coachman 1 franc and hurried through the door of the hotel.

Michelle narrowed her eyes when she was blinded by a dazzling crystal lamp, and when she had adjusted to the light, he asked the waiter to lead her to her predetermined position.

In the center of the hall is a piano, and the pianist's fingers run briskly over the black and white keys, playing Beethoven's moonlit sonata.

At this time, Baudelaire and Wilmesan were talking with their eyebrows fluttering, and when they saw Michel coming, Baudelaire hurriedly beckoned him to sit down.

One is a famous French poet, the originator of modern French poetry, and the poetry world has an unshakable position.

The other is the editor-in-chief of Le Figaro, which will be the oldest newspaper in Paris.

For Michelle, both are important figures in expanding their business.

After the three of them sat down, they began to serve the food one after another. A plate of Oostend oysters with acorns, a plate of beef braised burgundy, a plate of trout soup, a bottle of Podol wine.

The table exudes an enticing fragrance that seduces the hungry worms in the stomach.

Wilmesan raised his glass and joked, "If you change the red wine of Podol to the white wine of Masera, those who don't know will think that the Romans are feeding the animals." ”

Baudelaire glanced at him, pointed to the trout soup, and said solemnly, "According to you, the trout on the table is eating Schubert today." ”

Michelle gave him a blank look and said, "You joke so cold." ”

"Hahaha."

After laughing, Wilmesan teased Michelle, "By the way, the editor-in-chief of our publishing house, has there been any good novel submissions recently, our "Le Figaro" is expanding the section of novel serialization, we need a fresh blood, if there is, don't be stingy, our manuscript fee will not be disadvantaged to anyone." ”

At this time, the economic boom led to a trend of reading novels, and almost every newspaper was actively expanding its business in this area. Although Wilmesan regarded Le Figaro as a stronghold of conservatives, a vanguard against the Republicans, and a mouthpiece of the royalists, he basically did not refuse to be serialized and advertised in the novel.

After all, capitalists are also human beings, and making money is more important than ideology, knowledge, form, and form.

Michelle spread her hands helplessly and said, "Where are there any outstanding newcomers, I have just negotiated the copyright issue with Mr. Alexandre Dumas." Now the publishing industry is also getting more and more difficult every year. There are too many peers, and there is more competition. By the way, does Mr. Baudelaire have any new works lately? This publishing house is running out of support. ”

Baudelaire said with emotion, "I have recently become acquainted with a good poet in the Banasian style, and his name is Verlaine. I read the manuscript he sent me, and it was a good seedling. ”

Wilmesan raised his glass and said to Baudelaire with a smile, "It seems that the next poet is the next giant, so toast to your next successor in advance." ”

Michelle joked while raising his hand, but accidentally dropped the briefcase to the ground, and the manuscript paper inside was scattered all over the ground, Michelle hurriedly squatted down to pick up the manuscript, Baudelaire saw this, and also squatted down to help.

When he picked up a page of manuscript and glanced at it a few times, he was suddenly stunned. He stood up slowly, but his eyes didn't take a moment off the page.

"What's wrong? Baudelaire, what appeals to you so much? Could it be that the New World has been discovered? ”

Wilmesan stepped forward with a smile, squinted at the manuscript, and read softly, "You know, my passion is ripe and crimson, and every pomegranate bursts and buzzes like bees, and our blood loves those who take it captive, and we run for the eternal swarm of wishes......"

As he read it, his voice slowly weakened. He looked at the poetry in front of him, and his face became solemn.

Michelle looked at the two with solemn expressions at a loss.

Wait until their gaze is off the paper and freezes on his face.

"Michelle, tell me."

Baudelaire raised his voice, and with some gaffe, he said desperately, "Who wrote this poem?" ”

"What's wrong with this poem?"

Michelle's heart suddenly tightened, thinking that there was something wrong with poetry.

"It's ......"

For a moment, Baudelaire searched his stomach and tried to come up with a word to describe the wonderful psalm, but finally used the most popular sentence.

"It's so well written."

Michel was stunned for a moment, and repeated Baudelaire's words just now, "Great? ”

Baudelaire nodded, his eyes full of joy and fanaticism. He said excitedly, "If the Verlaine I just mentioned is a good seedling that still needs to be cultivated, then the owner of this long poem will directly become a dazzling rookie in the literary world." ”