In September, Paris, the weather is sunny.

"Speaking of which, I'm curious, what image do I have in your mind? Could it be an ATM?"

Kitahara and Kaede stretched out their hands to help Baudelaire tie each other's tie with a cross knot. They looked at the floor-length mirror in front of them, tilted their heads, and laughed softly: "Well, this looks like it suits you very well."

He was dressed in a simple white shirt, black suit and gray jacket, but both the suit and the jacket had flower-shaped dark patterns.

The traveler wore a gold and red striped tie for him, which broke the somewhat dark tone of the outfit.

"I feel the same way."

Baudelaire looked at himself in the mirror with satisfaction, his burgundy eyes reflecting the brilliant brilliance of the bedroom chandelier. He turned around with a smile and hugged Kitahara and Kaede, who were a little shorter than him.

"As for what image Beiyuan has in my mind -"

The famous Parisian libertine deliberately pondered for a few seconds, raised the corners of his mouth slightly, and held the other person's wrist with his fingers. Even the ambiguity and smile in his eyes were frivolous.

"Of course, as long as you can get her, you won't have to worry about money in your life."

"...I mean, are all your Paris transcenders that poor these days?"

Beihara and Feng sighed, flattened the wrinkles on the other's clothes caused by this action, pressed the ruby ​​brooch in their hands to the other's chest, and broke away from his arms.

"By the way, today I plan to take Anthony to the Louvre."

The traveler looked at his wrist that was held just now, as if he suddenly remembered something, and said.

Although the cut on his wrist caused by the glass fragments a few days ago was not very obvious, in order to prevent Anthony from noticing it, he has been wearing tighter blouson sleeves recently.

Even so, Beihara and Feng were still a little worried, and even in the past few days, they didn't dare to let Anthony get too close to them, for fear that he would see something.

It was only now that the wound was scarred that he dared to ask the other party, who had long been no longer allergic to scent, to go shopping in Paris with him.

"The Louvre?"

Baudelaire blinked and repeated it in a subtle tone, but he was not surprised.

When any outsider comes to Paris, they will basically come to the most famous museum in the world to see the rich collections inside.

——Here lies the most proud treasure of Paris, and also the most beautiful and brilliant page in the history of art.

But Baudelaire didn't think so, or in other words, his aesthetics had always been a bit deviated from the public.

“But I don’t think there’s anything interesting to see in the Louvre.”

He sat down on the traveler's bed, grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly. Half of his delicate face was buried in the soft fabric and cotton. His tone sounded innocent and soft:

"It's okay if the artwork doesn't have any special features, and there are really a lot of thieves. If Kitahara's wallet is stolen by some thief, then I will have to sleep on the street tonight."

"How can it be so exaggerated..."

Beihara and Feng opened the closet and just smiled when they heard this. They didn't pay attention to the person who had rolled onto their bed. They simply put a coat on themselves, opened the bedroom door and walked out.

"And I really like those works of art, Mr. Baudelaire."

"Eh? Kitahara?"

Baudelaire raised his head and hesitated for a moment between "chasing after him" and "continuing to stay here for a while" before he put down the pillow and chased the other person out of the room.

In the living room, Anthony was holding his rose and drawing in front of the drawing board. The paint was painted here and there, looking very chaotic.

If there's anything worthy of praise, it's probably that the color used above looks very clean and pure, like a big bunch of rainbows pulled down from the sky and piled into a mess.

Kitahara and Kaede were right next to the child, arranging their clothes and looking at the painting.

"Is this a rose garden?" he asked, not knowing how to tell.

"Yes!"

Anthony raised his head, his black eyes were full of joy and happiness. The paintbrush dipped in red paint painted a big red square somewhere, and then added a circle of gold.

"This is the sun, and here is the cliff. There are many, many roses on the edge of the cliff and in the deep valley. There are also flying blue waterfalls, and many, many colorful birds-"

"Then there is Beiyuan, me, and Miss Rose. Look, this is the most beautiful rose!"

Beihara and Feng looked at the painting, which had no clue what it was about. They raised their eyes and smiled. They hugged their cub and touched their foreheads affectionately.

"The painting is very good." The traveler pinched the cub's cheek, which looked full of expectation and joy, and said with a smile.

"Thank you Miss Rose for this. I don't know where the lines are..."

Anthony tilted his head a little embarrassed, his ears red: "By the way, I've packed up, are you leaving now?"

"Well, is Mr. Baudelaire planning to come too?"

Kitahara and Kaede straightened up, glanced at Baudelaire who seemed to be still looking at the abstract art, a smile flowed in his eyes, and he asked.

"Ah, of course! I will definitely go too."

Baudelaire was stunned, and quickly gave up studying the question "How does this painting look like a rose garden?" He came over with a smile and grabbed the traveler's clothes confidently.

"I can introduce it to you then. I have been to the Louvre dozens of times and have seen all kinds of things in it. I am very familiar with them."

Dozens of times...

The traveler was silent for two seconds about this number, and then asked tentatively: "I remember you just said that the artwork inside has no special features?"

“It’s true that it doesn’t have any special features, but it’s still worth the ticket price, maybe?”

The young French Transcendent tilted his head, seeming to be trying hard to recall the collection in the venue, and answered with a somewhat uncertain tone.

"But that's not the point."

The lazy-looking prodigal yawned, and finally hugged the traveler like a fool, hanging himself on the traveler's body, rubbing his head against the other's shoulder, and speaking in a lazy tone.

"Anyway, if I go with you, I won't pay for the entrance fee - but Kitahara shouldn't be short of money either."

Beihara and Feng silently glanced at the large pendant on their body, sighed indulgently, and held his hand: "Well... I didn't intend to ask you to pay."

So, my image in the other person's mind is really like an ATM machine.

Or maybe it’s Aladdin’s magic lamp that can make wishes and bring you money?

Louvre.

Even in a different world, that strange glass pyramid still stands in the center of the wide square.

Under the sunlight, the tip of the pyramid seems to be gathering infinite light, and the reflections of the flowers and trees hanging upside down in Paris are also suspended above it.

The rain of pink, white and bright red petals dances in the sky forever, as if they are singing a song that no one can understand, and they are also holding a wedding that will never end.

Opposite the pyramid is the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The goddess of peace is galloping up in her carriage. Her body is covered with this strangely fragrant flower. The translucent petals almost cover her horse, giving this goddess another appearance.

A bit tender.

Kitahara and Kaede held up the umbrella for Baudelaire beside them, while Anthony curiously stretched out his hand to pick up the petals outside the umbrella, and led Miss Rose to count them one by one.

Just like he used to count the stars seriously with travelers on clear nights.

The flowers falling from the flower trees in the Paris sky can hardly be said to be real flowers, or life.

Perhaps because of the long journey, every flower has solidified into a sparkling gem when it falls to the ground. When looking from a distance, Paris seems to be buried in a sea of ​​gems.

The biggest jewel is the pyramid on the square.

Kitahara and Kaede were walking in the queue, folding up their umbrellas, and a piece of fine flowing gemstone poured down from the umbrella, shaking off the brilliance and splendor all over the ground.

"Anthony——"

"Well, here I come!"

The blond child turned around, turned around in a sea of ​​​​glorious flowers, hugged the roses in his arms, and showed a bright smile: brighter than all the flowers and gems.

He ran back from the square, took the traveler's hand, and lined up with him.

"I like it so much, and the pyramids here!"

The child bent his eyes and made a big circle with unabashed affection: "It reflects everything here."

"Indeed, speaking of it, my favorite thing about the entire Louvre is also the pyramid."

Baudelaire played with his curly black hair, leaned close to Beihara and Kaede and whispered, deliberately breathing ambiguously into his ears.

His beautiful wine-red eyes stared at the pyramid sparkling in the sun, and seemed to reflect this shining light, illuminating the darkness inside.

"Look: If the Eiffel Tower forcibly changed the history of Paris, allowing everyone to be with it when they raised their eyes, then this pyramid pulls the phantom of history into the future."

The Transcendent spoke slowly in a poetic tone, and every rhyme seemed to be chewed carefully in his mouth, as if he was the poet in the third dimension, reciting a poem.

"Only those who have truly come here can feel this kind of absurdity that deconstructs everything - from a certain perspective, modernity is absurd, ha."

"Of course, people in Paris are just as ridiculous."

Baudelaire seemed to enjoy talking about this kind of ironic and artistic topic, so he added playfully.

"Whether it's the Parisians who can't accept it at first, or the Parisians who suddenly accept it... there's no funnier comedy story than this."

Beihara and Feng turned their heads and saw the undisguised sarcasm and malice in his wine-red eyes.

The birth of that kind of malice has almost no reason, just like the snake in the Garden of Eden's inexplicable malice towards humans.

It seems that this kind of creature can only taste the sweetness of the fruit and a little bit of beautiful aftertaste by living in fooling and hating other existences.

——If he had opened his perspective at this time, the snow-white snake must have raised its head, narrowed its ruby-like eyes, and spat out the snake message in a mocking manner.
To be continued...