Miss Camus fell on the bed and coughed, with a somewhat incredible look in her bright silver eyes:

"Wait a minute, you said Baudelaire wanted to chase someone? Didn't he always pursue one-night stands and relationships with lovers who only care about the kidneys but not the heart? He would be obsessed with chasing someone all the time?"

Since Beauvoir has already started the bet with great interest, the fact that Baudelaire is chasing someone can be regarded as a big deal.

"Can I bet on when he won't chase me?"

Sartre was sitting on the hospital bed. Even though his face was almost covered with bandages, you could still see an almost pensive expression on his face through his eyes. However, this kind of contemplation soon turned into indifference: "I guess

This is also a spur of the moment."

Beauvoir raised her eyebrows and stuffed the apple she had cut into the shape of a rabbit into her mouth. Her originally deep and elegant voice sounded a little unclear:

"No, I'm chasing you seriously."

——Although he himself didn’t hope that he could catch anyone, his serious attitude still couldn’t make outsiders suspicious.

Beauvoir swallowed the apple, curled her lips, and suddenly thought of the coats Kitahara and Kaede had been wearing these past few days.

She could swear: This must be the result of Baudelaire climbing through the window and running into someone else's house late at night! Absolutely!

But in order to coax these two bastards to join the gambling and take away all their money, Beauvoir still suppressed her unhappiness and put on a smiling and gossiping look:

"It is said that he is planning to write a poem for that person. Doesn't it mean that he is serious about this relationship?"

Write poetry?

The two people lying on the hospital bed were stunned for a moment, and finally they let out a subtle "Wow", showing a rare tacit understanding.

Then, before anyone could remind them, the two of them stared at each other in disgust because of this subtle synchronization, as if someone had stuffed a living frog into their mouths.

"Then I'll give it within two months - is that person so difficult to catch up with? If Baudelaire was pretending, he would be able to deceive many people, right?"

In the end, Camus took the initiative to take a step back from this boring eye fight, and adopted a more advanced "ignoring" tactic. He turned to Beauvoir and asked curiously: "Or is that person also very keen?

type?"

Anyone who knows the essence of Baudelaire has a hard time getting really close to him—at most, they can only watch from a distance with a subtle and complicated mentality.

After all, people like flowers, not the dangerous snakes hidden beneath them.

Even Sartre nodded and agreed with this point.

Then I suppressed it decisively for a month.

"Because it's Mr. Baudelaire!" Sartre's tone sounded very confident. "What's wrong with supporting me? And I believe there is no one who Mr. Baudelaire can't win!"

Beauvoir raised her eyes in disgust.

Oh, she had almost forgotten that her boyfriend was still a fan of Baudelaire - but as long as he could get the money, it didn't matter what the process was like.

Camus also looked at the other person with disgust, and at the same time felt very speechless at someone's mindless boasting about Baudelaire.

It’s so shameful to have such an old enemy jpg

"By the way, in order to prevent you two from causing trouble, I will not remove the superpower effect while you are in the hospital."

Beauvoir clicked her tongue, ate the last piece of apple, stood up and stretched, walked towards the door with graceful steps, and opened the door of the ward.

"You might as well spend Christmas as women in the hospital. After all, your injuries won't heal for a few months - you did it yourself."

She turned around and glanced at the two people, whose expressions suddenly became as if they were mourning for their heirs. The pair of black eyes narrowed playfully, and behind the bright smile was a bit of joy of a successful prank:

"By the way, when you come back, you have to make up for the tasks that have been put aside for the past few months, as the president said."

I repeat again, she absolutely does not hold a grudge.

——After all, how can a girl be said to be holding a grudge when she punishes her philandering boyfriend and a dead straight man?

When Kitahara and Kaede came to the hospital with a group of people, they saw Beauvoir in a happy mood.

This rebellious and charming woman hummed a short ballad and walked slowly down the corridor of the hospital.

The sunlight dyed half of her face golden, giving this person who always wore a black trench coat a rare layer of warmth and softness.

"Miss Beauvoir?"

Kitahara and Kaede blinked, pushed Baudelaire, who had unknowingly reached his neck, away, and shouted proactively.

"It's Kitahara." When Beauvoir saw the real owner of her bet, she didn't feel embarrassed. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and said hello with a smile, "There are also the president, Charles and Alexander - they are here to visit.

Two guys?"

"Yes. There are also flowers that Proust wants to give as a gift."

Hugo adjusted his monocle, with a smile on his gentle brows: "I haven't been to the commune for so long, and everyone misses them very much."

All the superpowers present at the Paris Commune were silent for a moment.

Wait, President, are you sure those people in the Paris Commune didn't miss the fun of these two people?

In the end, Beauvoir had no choice but to look away, gave up correcting some of her president's deep-rooted filter concepts, just nodded and left.

Kitahara and Kaede buried their faces in the flowers, bent their eyes and laughed, causing Hugo to look over with some confusion. He naturally stretched out his hand and rubbed the traveler's hair.

"What's wrong?"

Kitahara and Kaede, who were suddenly attacked, were stunned for a moment. It seemed that they did not expect that they would be treated like cubs at Hugo's place. They turned their heads away a little uncomfortably:

"No, it's okay - let's go visit the patient first. Can't we just stand in the corridor all the time?"

He has long been accustomed to taking care of others.

Kitahara and Kaede can very well play the role of optimistic people who make others feel happy when they feel sad and dull, and can play the role of people who need them when others long to be "needed".

He can accept people who are not accepted by others, he can give the biggest hug to those who need warmth, he can also give unconditional trust to those who need trust, and he can talk to those who are tired of others' pity on an equal footing.

But being taken care of like a child or something...

Kitahara and Kaede subconsciously pursed their lips, and subconsciously held Baudelaire's wrist with their fingers. There was a bit of helplessness in their orange-gold eyes.

He finally understood why people in the Paris Commune liked Hugo so much - even though he was indeed an idiot father who couldn't sense what his cub was thinking, it was still very reassuring.

Baudelaire tilted his head and glanced at Kitahara and Kaede in confusion, then continued to bury his head in the other's shoulder, trying to stay sticky for a while.

Then it was torn off again by Alexandre Dumas who really couldn't stand it anymore - at the same time, Mr. Count also gave Kitahara and Feng an expression of "I hate iron but can't make steel".

Hugo's blue-purple eyes stared at these people gently, not realizing anything was wrong at all, but he even narrowed his eyes happily because of the lively look between them.

This relatively harmonious atmosphere lasted until several people, led by the nurse, walked into Camus and Sartre's ward.

The sunshine in the ward is very good. The bright sunshine shines in from the large ventilation window. Countless bright golden water lilies bloom inside the simple room, elegantly embellishing the simple air into water filled with the radiance of the sun.

——The two "mummies" lying on the floor perfectly ruined this beautiful atmosphere.

"..." The mummy gentlemen glanced at the person who suddenly opened the door and came in, then looked at each other, and chose to throw the blame at each other without hesitation.

"It has nothing to do with me. It's entirely the fault of Camus that it's like this."

Miss Sartre struggled and twisted her body, trying to show her grievance and innocence, and her tone was full of resentment: "He just couldn't defeat me and wanted to come over and beat me."

"It was obviously Sartre who made the first move!"

Miss Camus glared at the other party fiercely, and her clear female voice contained some annoyance: "I just asked him how he and Beauvoir..."

Sartre was silent for a while, and then a polite smile appeared on his face: "Camus, please crawl for me."

The four people who came to visit: "..."

It's really hard to cover up, Miss Sutter.

Then they watched the nurse lady with a tic-tac-toe written on her forehead pick up the broom, angrily ran over, grabbed a person's ear with one hand and cursed him angrily.

——During this period, Sartre desperately tried to tease others, trying to avoid the punishment as fierce as this storm, but he was rebuffed by "I am not interested in women."

In response to this, Miss Camus laughed very loudly next to her, and then she once again touched the wound on her chest and lay down flat again. She was also grabbed and scolded by the unhappy nurse.

During this period, Kitahara and Kaede placed all the flowers sent by everyone in the vase on the side, and adjusted the position of the flowers to make them look more elegant and beautiful.

Hugo looked around the ward and found that he seemed to have no place to interrupt, so he followed Baudelaire to enjoy the traveler's flower arrangement performance with oriental characteristics - and then he became in a daze.

"I heard that the art of flower arrangement in your country is very developed, and it's different from what we have here."

Baudelaire stretched out his finger and touched the petals of one of the flowers curiously: "Is this your flower arrangement style?"

The flower arrangements we have there...

Kitahara and Kaede's hands playing with the flower branches paused slightly, and there was a bit of helplessness in the orange-gold eyes: "No. I haven't studied it systematically: Japanese ikebana is based on form. I am a pure

It just depends on how you feel.”

The traveler lowered his eyes and arranged the snow-white Star of Bethlehem in high and low places, making the shape of these flowers look like mountains buried in white snow.

Chinese flower arrangements are completely different from Japanese flower arrangements.

One emphasizes interest the most, the other emphasizes form, one uses rich materials, and the other uses simple materials.

On the other side, the nurse lady also successfully scolded these two Transcendents, who would make a fuss when they met, to the point where they couldn't even resist.

Not to mention that the president is here watching, and after being hit by Beauvoir's superpower, his own superpower is in a blocked state, basically useless at all.

"If the hospital hadn't admitted more people recently, we wouldn't have put them in the same ward."

After the nurse lady finished cursing, she started to complain to the Earl who was dressed in gold and came to pay for the hospital: "Every day, the two of them quarrel over messy things, and every time they cause a huge problem."
To be continued...