The last farce between Britain and France was resolved by Proust, who finally came belatedly.

This young man who seemed a little too enthusiastic and always eager to express himself had just gotten his mobile phone and fully demonstrated to everyone what the top combat power of the Paris Commune was:

——A sharp yet sarcastic soft tone, an elegant and easy-going language without a single curse word, and a variety of complex and obscure metaphorical references, successfully put the people in the clock tower into an embarrassing situation where they were looking through dictionaries while cursing at each other.

Defeated.

"You can scold me for so long for such a trivial matter..."

Proust also complained afterward: "And your wording is too polite, isn't it? What is British food that even dogs and worms are disgusted with? To put it bluntly, British food is disgusting even with dogs and Baudelaire.

Isn’t it bad luck?”

Fortunately, Baudelaire was not present at the time, otherwise another incident in the Paris Commune would have caused Mr. Roland to have a myocardial infarction.

Kitahara and Kaede looked at the text message that Alexandre Dumas sent to them, and couldn't help but laugh. They subconsciously glanced at the butterfly specimen on their desk that was presented by Romain Rolland and Fabre.

Since Hugo finally came back to assume the position of president recently, Romain Rolland also happily took a leave of absence, dragged Fabre and ran to fish in the sea of ​​​​flowers in Provence.

The traveler couldn't help but smile when he thought of Romain Rolland's happy mood when he was running away.

——It’s really hard to stay in Paris, Mr. Roland.

He stretched out his hand, turned the calendar to October 20, and then squinted sleepily at the bright sunshine outside.

The rain of flowers in Paris is still endless. Men and women in fashionable and elegant clothes are strolling on the streets. Most of them are walking on the streets together in pairs, talking about romantic stories.

This city seems to be born with a romance as rich as rouge and a prosperity as dazzling as gold dust.

The traveler saw Anthony happily holding his own roses, holding the helpless little Dumas behind him with one hand and running around on the street. People passing by saw these two lively children and responded with kindness.

smile.

The two children were chasing colorful butterflies behind them. It was unclear whether they were chasing the roses in Anthony's arms or chasing them. It made people think of those who herd butterflies for no reason.

A pretty good morning.

The traveler thought this, and subconsciously touched the hem of his coat with his fingers, narrowed his eyes and smiled.

Speaking of which, every time he woke up from the table in the past few days, he would find that he was covered with a coat and there was an extra bouquet of flowers on the table.

I don’t know which snail girl it is, but she runs to his house so enthusiastically every night.

"Kitahara——"

Baudelaire opened the door with a click, his voice rang happily, mixed with the jingling sound of the apartment keys hanging on his coat, his burgundy eyes sparkling:

"I'm here to find you again!"

Beihara and Feng felt a heavy weight on their shoulders, and instantly knew where the other person was lying. They couldn't help but turned their heads and looked at this guy who was too clingy.

"Today we are going to the hospital to visit Camus and Sartre. Will Kitahara go too?"

Baudelaire spoke with a smile, and at the same time rubbed his head against the traveler's cheek. If you ignore the intense look in his eyes, he looked completely tame and well-behaved.

Then the next second, he was torn off from Kitahara and Feng without any courtesy by Alexandre Dumas behind him.

"Speak nicely, why are you always putting yourself on others when you have nothing to do?"

Mr. Earl, who was still extremely bejeweled today, glanced at Baudelaire with disgust, and then nodded to Kitahara and Kaede elegantly and reservedly.

Let me state in advance that this is not targeted at any one person alone, but is the result of unanimous agreement within the commune:

Baudelaire, who was heavily in debt and borrowed money to go to the red light district every day, was really not suitable to be with this traveler who seemed too gentle and tolerant.

It was not a question of who was not worthy of whom, but almost everyone in the Paris Commune agreed on one thing: Baudelaire was a little bit poisonous.

Hugo, who was standing at the door, tilted his head and looked at Baudelaire who was thrown to the ground by Alexandre Dumas in confusion. He felt that Dumas's action was like throwing away a poisonous caterpillar.

But since we can cause such a big fuss...

"Your relationship looks good."

President Hugo adjusted the monocle of his left eye, and a soft smile appeared in his beautiful blue-purple eyes: "It's rare to see them so noisy."

"Actually, it's not good if it's too lively..."

Kitahara and Kaede looked down helplessly, pulled up Baudelaire who was lying on the ground and groaned, and answered Hugo's question by the way:

"I originally planned to send flowers. I met Proust on the road a few days ago, and he also wanted me to send a bunch of flowers to him."

"Is that so? Proust does have a pollen allergy."

Hugo nodded clearly and walked out of the room slowly without asking about the details of the incident:

"Then let's leave early. The stitching may be longer, so that we won't miss lunch when we get back from the hospital - Kitahara will come with us then."

But Baudelaire's eyes suddenly turned resentful.

Why did you really go behind my back and fool around with that little devil Proust!

"Ahem, let's go."

Kitahara and Kaede, who understood each other's eyes, coughed without embarrassment, held Baudelaire lying on his knees in his arms, and comforted him skillfully: "Okay - I will buy it for you when the time comes.

How about a bouquet of flowers?"

Baudelaire's eyes lit up, and he happily grabbed his traveler's neck. He turned around and glanced at Alexandre Dumas provocatively:

Haha, just go ahead and be jealous.

Anyway, Kitahara’s favorite is me!

"..."

Alexandre Dumas looked at this guy who was so shameless that he ran to his house and hugged his thigh for a few hundred euros a few months ago. He felt that this guy became particularly arrogant after finding a meal ticket with a good temper.

Especially deserves a beating.

Kitahara and Kaede noticed the count's deep eyes, and then glanced at Baudelaire hanging on him. They couldn't help but tilt their heads, narrowed their eyes and smiled softly:

"Do you want me to prepare a bouquet of flowers for everyone?"

"No, I can buy flowers myself if I want... uh."

Alexandre Dumas was stunned for a moment, as if he did not expect that he would still be treated like this. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and almost subconsciously wanted to refuse.

But in the next moment, he felt that his rejection was simply stupid - what if the other party misunderstood that he hated him? What if he felt that he was someone who measured everything with money?

After all, the flowers given by others represent their feelings and have nothing to do with money...

Mr. Count hesitated for a while, but finally said nothing, just nodded hurriedly and ran to find Hugo.

It's like a cat that has never eaten shrimps and suddenly finds that there is such a strange thing in its rice bowl. It feels novel and alert.

"I feel like he's less accustomed to straight shots than you are."

Kitahara and Kaede said thoughtfully, straightening their hair that was messed up by Baudelaire with their fingers, and then rubbing the other's long black curly hair that felt good to the touch.

"Speaking of which, I thought you would get used to this: after all, Mr. Hugo seems to be a very gentle person."

Baudelaire, who was lying in his arms, glanced at his hair, which was almost straightened. After hearing these words, he suddenly fell silent subtly.

"No." Mr. Beyonder lowered his eyes, took a deep breath of the other person's scent, and stood up reluctantly.

"Although the president is also everyone's parent, he is not very sensitive in this regard. He is also very bad at comforting people. Most of the time, he protects everyone under his wings through practical actions."

Baudelaire yawned, walked over to him and shrugged very calmly: "The president is an idiot father who only takes his cubs to the amusement park even though he knows that there is something wrong with his child."

Kitahara and Kaede blinked, held the umbrella they used to block the rain of flowers invisible to ordinary people in Paris in their hands, looked at it carefully for a while, and suddenly asked curiously:

"So this is why Mr. Hugo takes you to visit the red light district?"

Baudelaire: "..."

Well, for Parisians, playground = red light district, which makes sense. But he has really changed his mind now, really!

——Although the red light district is really fun, yesterday I met a new beauty with a good figure in it...cough.

Kitahara and Kaede held umbrellas, smiled at the depressed Mr. Beyonder, and followed out the door, unaware of the messy thoughts in Baudelaire's mind.

Of course, I probably wouldn’t care if I knew it.

After all, they are not lovers or any other intimate relationship, they are just friends, and they have no right to dictate each other's lives.

There are many flower shops on the streets of Paris.

Every store is full of flowers, and all kinds of real or fake flowers are placed at the entrance of the store as decoration, showing their most beautiful and brilliant side as much as possible.

The flowers on the shelves were mixed with the petals falling from the sky. For a moment, Beitahara and Feng were confused about where was illusion and where was reality.

"This is it. It may not be the best flower shop in Paris, but it must be everyone's favorite."

Hugo glanced around and saw the towering Eiffel Tower, its tip submerged deep in the white clouds, as well as the majestic Notre Dame Cathedral nearby. He bent his eyes and smiled.

"Every time we went to Notre Dame, we would come here to buy a bouquet of flowers and then go to the restaurant for dinner."

By this time, they had already chosen the flowers - even Mr. Count, who had difficulty in choosing, was no exception. Like Baudelaire, he took the rose.

As for Kitahara and Kaede, he followed Baudelaire's suggestion and simply chose carnations.

As for the flowers that Proust asked him to deliver, they were mainly composed of baby's breath and the Star of Bethlehem. They were both very gentle stars - quite similar to the feeling that Proust gave people.

"Because the career of flowers is noble, each of them deserves to be taken seriously."
To be continued...