Chapter 928: Another Side

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Meyer Carr crumpled the letter before he finished it, and in a distraught manner he went to the fireplace and threw it into the fire.

Watching the letter gradually turn to ashes in the firelight, Meyer Carr felt a little better.

Although the letter was burned, this letter brought back too many unpleasant memories and bad memories for him.

Thinking that Lin Yiqing was already on his way to Germany, Meyer Kar couldn't help frowning.

Although the Rothschild family of Italy and Austria-Hungary sent money to Lin Yiqing very secretly, Meyer Carr still knew the news through the family's insiders. He was extremely annoyed by the small private actions of the two families, but he was not easy to attack.

After all, he still needs the support of these two families.

Now, although his title has been upgraded by one level, he can clearly feel that his status in the hearts of Bismarck and King Wilhelm has declined.

The reason for this, he rightly blamed on the failure of the sniping of the ABN AMRO.

Because it was the British Thirteen Merchants Group who secretly rescued the Dutch Bank, Meyer Carr hated all the Qianguo people very much.

Including the upcoming Qianguo envoy Lin Yiqing.

He had already made up his mind to refuse all the banquets hosted by King Wilhelm and Bismarck to entertain Lin Yiqing for physical reasons, and he would not see this guy.

But Meyer didn't know that everything that happened after that would go exactly in the direction he least wanted it to go.

The night train to Berlin was not in time, so Fang Boqian had to spend another unexpected day in the strange place of Szczecin.

He was ordered by Lin Yiqing to come to the Volkeng Shipyard to investigate, Lin Yiqing needed his report, and now the report has been completed, but he can't hand it over to Lin Yiqing immediately.

For him, there was no other temptation for the evening than to hear the melancholy singing of women in the little bars on the outskirts of the city, and the monotonous chatter of the travelers who met him. The air in the hotel restaurant was unbearable, greasy and smoky, and the fresh smell of the sea water was still so salty and cold on his lips that he felt the filth of the air there even more. So he walked out and walked along the bright and spacious street to a square where a small band was playing. Then he continued on with the lazy crowd of strolls. At first he thought it pleasant to wander through the careless, but very local flow, but soon he could no longer stand it, being pushed around by these strangers and their heart-rending laughter, the strange, strange, or mocking glances of the eyes at him, the unintentional collision of contacts, the light that shone from thousands of small caverns, and the footsteps that clawed at his heart without stopping. The voyage at sea was already bumpy enough, and now he still felt dizzy and slightly drunk in his blood. I always felt like my feet were sliding and shaking, the ground seemed to be heaving as if I was breathing, and the streets seemed to float up and down to the sky. The chaos made him dizzy at once, and for the sake of quietness he turned into a side alley, without even looking at its name, and from this one into another, narrower alley, where the noise of boredom had subsided. Then he continued aimlessly towards the alleys, which were intertwined like veins, farther and farther away from the square, and the alleys became darker and darker. The moon on the boulevard, the great electric lamp around the corner, could no longer shine here, and the sparse flickering lights could finally see the stars and a black canopy again.

He had to stay not too far from the port, in the sailors' quarter. He felt that there was a rancid smell of fish, and everywhere he could smell the disgusting smell of seaweed and rotten shrimp that had been washed up on the shore by the waves, and the peculiar smell of rotten things or unventilated rooms, the damp musty smell that had been in every corner of the room, and only when a storm came one day would it blow it away and replace it with some fresh air. This shadowy darkness and unexpected loneliness made him feel at ease. He slowed down, and looked from one alley to the next, each one different, this one peaceful and docile, the other amorous, but each one was dark, and there was a low sound of music and conversation, and from some unseen place, from the depths of the vaulted houses, so mysteriously that it was almost impossible to find out where the sound came from. Everything is covered by these alleys, and only the red and yellow lights can be seen.

He likes the alleys of these strange cities, the black market of all the **** trades, the gathering place of all temptations, for those sailors who have spent lonely nights on the strange and dangerous seas and come here to stay only one night, this is a place where they can realize so many dreams of the flesh in an hour. These alleys, they must be hidden somewhere in the big city, because they speak so unscrupulously, so babbling, are exactly what the mansions with their bright glass windows and the superior people with many different masks want to hide. In these alleys, in the small houses, the music is playing, seducing, showing a luxury that one cannot imagine, and the small four-corner lamps are shrunk under the gates, and the vague flickering and greeting is a very clear invitation. Between the gaps in the open doors, the snow-white flesh under the golden clothes shone brightly. In the café, the voices of drunkards and the quarrels of gamblers were screeching. The sailors all laughed at each other slyly, and when they met each other, their dull gaze was sharpened by the signs of the place, for there was everything, women, gambling, wine, shouting, adventures, all the dirty and the noble, and all this shyly, yet revealing their true feelings, behind the blinds that hung down hypocritically, all took place in it, and this seeming isolation was doubly seductive and irritating by its concealment and desire to cover up. Like the splendid streets of the big cities, they exist here and there, because the upper and lower levels of life have the same form. These not luxurious alleys are the last bit of wonder left of the presumptuous **** world, a place where people can vent their primitive instincts roughly and to their heart's content, a world of passion, a gloomy forest or bush full of creatures in heat, what it exposes excites people, and what it hides seduces people. It's exactly where people dream of it.

The alleys that Fang Boqian is in now are also the same, and he feels that he has been captured all of a sudden. He casually walked behind a few guys in military uniforms, their long swords dragging behind them, making the sound of tintins on the potholed gravel path. There were women in a bar who shouted at them, and they laughed and shouted lewd jokes at them, and one of them went and knocked on the window, and then out of nowhere there was a noise, and they went on again, and the laughter grew farther and farther away, and soon it was inaudible. The alleys fell silent again, and a few windows shimmered in the dim moonlight. He stood there, experiencing the rare tranquility of this moment, because behind this tranquility there was something about to move, mysterious, sexy, dangerous. He knew very well that the silence at the moment was only a deception, and that in the hazy fog of this alley, the corrupted part of the world was quietly moving. And he just stood, stopped where he was, and listened into the open space. He could no longer feel the city, the alley, and he didn't know its name, and he didn't know his name. All he knew was that he was unknown here, in a strange and strange situation, without any purpose, without any news, without any relationship, and yet he could feel the secret activity of everything around him, just as he could feel the blood flowing under his skin. He just had the feeling that everything was not happening because of him, but it was all under his control, and that he was not involved in it, but that he was able to experience it most deeply and truly, which made him feel very happy, and this was the most active corner of his inner world, like a pleasant emotion, always unintentionally attacking him.

Koukou

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Koukou

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Koukou

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