"Well, once upon a time there was a little girl named Shelley..."

"No, no, you can't call me Shelley! If you just use your surname, I'll think you're talking about someone else! It must be called Wollstonecraft -"

"Eh? Well, then there is a little girl named Wollstonecraft. She went out one day and met a rabbit. The rabbit was very strange. It had a pocket watch in its hand and was running on the grass in a panic.

.”

Carol was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly told the beginning of the story again, her beautiful blue eyes looking a little embarrassed.

"Pocket watch... I remember Mr. Maugham had a plum blossom pocket watch, which looked very beautiful."

Dr. Mary Shelley blinked, sat at the edge of the table, and said thoughtfully: "But I think this rabbit is more like you, timid and cautious - eh, your ears are red.

Yeah!"

The girl giggled as if she had discovered something interesting, almost scaring the timid fairy tale rabbit into the hole.

But even if she didn't run away, Carol's face still turned red all of a sudden, almost hiding her entire face behind Ying's chubby body.

Yingdan made an innocent and confused "mi" sound, seemingly completely unable to understand the complex situation of human society.

The group of people watching the theater next to them basically couldn't hold back their laughter until they had stomachaches. At least Byron was like this - he almost stuffed himself into Kitahara and Kaede's arms, and would shrug his shoulders nervously from time to time.

, letting out a muffled laugh.

Kitahara and Kaede finished writing the last sentence of the form, hugged Byron, and looked at each other helplessly. They even began to worry that this guy would laugh so hard that they would laugh away at him.

Elliot, who was nestled beside Kitahara and Kaede, opened his eyes, tilted his head and thought for two seconds, then hugged the traveler's right arm in his arms and continued to take a nap.

"Ahem, I'm fine, I'm fine."

Lord Byron coughed several times before raising his head, resting his head on the traveler's shoulder again. His emerald green eyes completed a beautiful arc, and he lowered his voice and said, "I just suddenly thought of Shelley."

"Shelley?"

Kitahara and Feng were stunned for a moment, leaning behind each other, moving their left arm slightly to prevent Byron from sliding down, and rubbed the short, fiery red curly hair on the back of the man's head, as if it was some kind of subconscious comfort.

Byron obviously noticed this detail, so the corners of his mouth curled up a little wider, and he directly hugged the traveler's waist, turned his head and smiled in the other person's ear and asked: "Do you know what Shelley's character is like?

?Except for being gentle."

Kitahara and Kaede blinked curiously.

"He actually looks like a little white rabbit, especially in front of stronger people. Hahaha, if Shelley was still here, Miss Shelley would have to face two white rabbits huddled together."

Kitahara and Kaede followed each other's words and imagined the two rabbits shrinking into a ball with their eyes wide open. They found it a bit interesting, but they still felt that the other party was hiding something.

"So that's why you laughed for so long?" the traveler asked, a little worried that the other person actually felt a little sad because he thought of Shelley.

"Of course it's also because I want to take advantage of you."

Byron answered confidently, tightening his arms slightly, as seriously as if he was delivering some major national speech, which sounded quite reasonable:

"After thinking about it, I feel that this guy Carol really can't turn on the bed. If he encounters this kind of thing, he will definitely be knocked unconscious by the wall like a silly rabbit. So isn't this a very reasonable thing?"

"..."

Kitahara and Kaede were silent for a few seconds because of the "reasonableness" in the other's words. Then they politely pointed in the direction of London's red light district, and their voices sounded very friendly:

"If you have something to go there, I can pay for it."

Byron followed the route pointed by the other party and looked in the direction of the red light district - that is the Soho district of London, which was also the city's former hunting area and the current porn hunting area.

"etc?"

Byron stared at it for a few seconds, then suddenly turned around with a shocked look on his face: "Kitahara, how come you even know about this place? Which bastard told you? You probably haven't been there, right?"

Kitahara and Feng were silent for a few seconds, restraining their subconscious impulse to read Dickens, and just blinked innocently at Byron: "Huh?"

"I understand!"

However, Byron was already filled with righteous indignation: "It must be that bastard Dickens! He hangs out with Maugham every day, so he must know these places very well!"

"Well, who called me?"

Dickens, who was woken up by the voice shouting his name, took the book away from his face in confusion, and saw Byron who looked like he wanted to bake something on the fire. He subconsciously got excited and quickly ran to the stairs.

.

Miss Austin, who was wearing headphones, was holding a book and drinking lipstick tea by the way. She had a quiet temperament under the sunlight that filtered through. She chatted happily with the girl, the young man explained and made amends in a hurry, and the people around her were buzzing.

Li Dangdang seemed out of place.

According to usual practice, these people can probably make trouble for a long time, but this time it didn't happen - this is probably due to the two people who came down from upstairs and the news they brought, which saved the hall and gradually began to change.

A thrilling atmosphere.

"Everyone, I got Mr. Orwell's application. The Attendant of the Clock Tower will go to the outskirts of London to hold an event tonight. But I haven't been gone very long, why is it so busy?"

Ms. Christie's footsteps, wearing high heels, made crisp sounds on the stairs. Her voice contained an aristocratic slow to almost lazy tone and a light smile.

She looks slender and tall, with a black hat on her blond hair and a pair of long ponytails hanging down from the back of her head.

She fastened a pink rose on the edge of her hat. She wore a white coat with a dark red top and pantyhose, and a pure black long skirt that rippled with soft waves as she walked, highlighting the

A magnificent and proud temperament.

This is a thorny flower, but at this moment, it is undoubtedly blooming softly.

Almost everyone who belonged to the Bell Tower Attendant was stunned for a moment, and then cheered in surprise. Even Byron whistled, indicating that it was rare to see the Bell Tower Attendant doing something that a person should do.

"What about those who are not Bell Tower Attendants?"

Dickens cheered halfway, then suddenly looked at Kitahara, Kaede and Carol, and asked with some expectation.

"Kitahara is the subject of my surveillance."

Miss Jian turned her head and glanced, and said in a very strong tone.

"This doctor hasn't finished listening to the story yet."

Mary Shelley opened her arms, and naturally jumped directly to the ground under Carol's hurried movement to catch her. She raised her head and said seriously: "I just heard Miss Wollstonecraft

Jumped down the rabbit hole…”

"Then there's nothing we can do."

Conan Doyle slowly walked out from behind Christie, with a hazy smile in his brown eyes that fluctuated like London fog: "Let's go together, Agatha?"

"Don't speak in such a tone, it's invasive."

The future knight captain narrowed her eyes, turned her head almost deliberately and muttered in a low voice, and then smiled at the people below:

"Of course, I told you that everyone should go together this time, and it's best if no one is absent again. Otherwise, the next Perseid meteor shower will have to wait until next year."

London, suburbs of London.

These two words are like the city and the countryside in England, they exist on the same land, but they are so incompatible with each other.

You can't hear the bells of Big Ben outside London, but you can't see the countryside and green grass of Steventon, Pompey and Howarth, and you can't hear the waves coming from the small town of Torquay.

"It feels like I've been traveling from one city to another these years, and I rarely stay in places like this."

Dickens was mumbling in the car, stretched his head out of the car, and looked curiously at the green grass in the distance, his orange eyes reflecting the last light of the sun.

It was already sunset by this time.

"It's so beautiful," he said.

"It will be even more beautiful when the stars come out."

Beiyuan and Feng raised their eyes and laughed, pulling back the person who was making a standard dangerous move, and then stared at the lush trees slowly disappearing around them.

Beyond the distant green grass, the traveler sees more grass, then mountains, and then the sun.

The sun was directly in front of them, in the valley between two mountains, and the car they were in was racing across the grassy plain in that direction.

It seemed as if they were about to collide into that bright white star that glowed red with pigeon blood in the next second.

"Okay! Actually, it's not as beautiful as the sunset that Beihara and I watched on the sea, but the sunset in England is not bad either."

The well-informed Byron was talking to himself next to him, almost proudly accepting the envious attention from his colleagues, his emerald green eyes sparkling under the sun.

"Kitahara."

Elliot blinked and tugged on the traveler's sleeve. He looked obedient and raised his head to look at his friend.

Beihara and Feng couldn't help but feel a little dumbfounded, so they smiled and rubbed each other's head: "Don't be afraid, I'm watching you."

"No, I am. Suddenly I remembered a poem."

This time, Elliot was stunned for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth curved into a smile that looked like an ordinary person's, which suddenly diluted a lot of the inhuman feeling about him.

He originally thought of a poem, a sentence in the color of sunset, a bit sad and empty - but now he suddenly didn't want to write this poem out.

Because there was a vague shadow of another poem in his heart, a more beautiful and gentle poem.

"But I'm not going to tell you now."

Eliot bent his black eyes and smiled while lying on his friend's shoulder. His voice was soft, like a cat lying on a person and wagging its tail lovingly.

His eyes reflected orange-gold and brilliant orange-red, and it was unclear whether they came from the eyes of the traveler or the sun.

"Okay, then I'll wait."
To be continued...