Amidst the high and low sounds of pianos in this city, Kitahara and Kaede finally found their destination—more precisely, the relevant place they were looking for, the streets of Bremen.

He didn't plan to go directly to Schiller's house. As the place where the seven betrayers lived before, it was probably either strictly guarded or had been thoroughly investigated.

"So even if there is something to keep, it should be placed somewhere else, or even with someone else... Speaking of which, what will Schiller's superpower be? "Conspiracy and Love"?"

The traveler thought about the most likely name of the power, and then couldn't help but laugh.

Not to mention the content of this play, as a traveler from the third dimension, it is really difficult for him to imagine that Schiller can be associated with the words "conspiracy" and "love".

Let’s just talk about the latter word... When introducing Schiller, the ones that can be introduced are usually Goethe, Goethe and Goethe. As for the love stories and romances that ordinary writers want to introduce: What is it and can it be eaten?

"But if the superpower is really this, then it's a bit complicated. If it's related to 'conspiracy'... Tsk, it's probably another twist and turn of the script team's thinking pattern."

Beihara and Kaede retracted their somewhat scattered thoughts, subconsciously pressed their eyebrows, and murmured in a low voice: "But the matter shouldn't be that complicated. If it doesn't work, just entrust it to that guy Fyodor."

The other party should also be happy to participate in matters related to the "Seven Betraitors" - the information related to this group of Transcendents is quite valuable, and it should be enough to seduce this Siberian hamster dumpling.

Kitahara and Kaede took a look at the layout of the shops on the streets of Bremen, and mentally thought about where Schiller might put his things.

If there is anything he wants to stay, eight/nine times out of ten it will be related to Goethe. So if Goethe comes here, the most likely place he will go is...

"Let's check out the nearby dessert shops and candy shops first."

Kitahara and Kaede's eyes rested on a dessert shop, and they came to this conclusion almost without any obstacles. At the same time, they sighed deeply for the fox in Berlin who thought he would die if he didn't consume enough sugar.

Eating two to three kilograms of sugar a day is amazing when you think about it. Although Germans seem to have an uncontrollable love for sweets, to this extent it is still outrageous.

There is nothing special about Weimar’s pastry shops because of the city’s literary and artistic background. To be precise, such shops do not need to be overly exaggerated.

Simple brown wood color decoration, desserts hanging or placed on the counter, a sleepy female shop owner holding her cat, a classical record player with a sweet old song placed above the counter, and a few rows of tables and chairs, this is enough

It has built a dessert shop that feels quite stylish.

Kitahara and Kaede glanced at the white cat lying lazily in the shopkeeper's arms. The cat was squinting and thinking about something, with a bunch of lazy golden butterflies hanging on the dark tail.

There were more butterflies flying leisurely out of the record player's speakers, shaking off a string of shimmering notes, and circling lightly around the people in the store.

Whether it’s the building itself or the songs played on the vinyl record player, it’s all music that lingers in this city.

And the music itself is the butterfly.

Beihara and Kaede blinked, with a smile on their faces, and slightly stretched out their hands forward, watching as a golden butterfly flew towards him curiously and landed lightly on the fingertips.

Good afternoon, little one.

The traveler curled up the corners of his lips and smiled silently at the butterfly. Then he withdrew his fingers and walked to the counter: he also wanted to buy some desserts to bring to the child.

The butterfly was shaken off by the other party, but there was no dissatisfaction. It just surrounded Beihara and Kaede curiously, and finally landed on his hair like a flower.

"How about you——"

Perhaps because of its small size, this butterfly's voice sounds soft and soft, with a singing-like melody. Each word has a cadence and a softness that goes back and forth.

"If you want to buy something, I recommend the onion cake! Whether you add sausage or bacon, it tastes great."

The little butterfly seemed to have not met anyone who could talk to it for a long time. It kept chattering in his ear, and its voice seemed quite cheerful and lively.

"Although I have never eaten it, many people order this every day, and they are very happy after eating. The butterflies flying out of their bodies are all bright orange..."

Bright orange?

Kitahara and Kaede looked through the glass on the counter with some curiosity, and indeed saw many bright orange butterflies flying out, dancing in a circle as an accompaniment to the melody, and then disappeared silently into the air.

"Ah, do you know what the colors mean? Here, bright orange represents joy, and gold like ours represents happiness. We are all about the music of happiness - in this city, everything is music.

"

The little butterfly shook its pair of shining wings, which made it look shiny, and its voice was very cheerful, and it continued to share the story of the city in the ears of travelers:

"Isn't it super beautiful! As a piece of music on a vinyl record, I am really happy to be sent to this city by fate. My soul was awakened and then set free - oh, sorry, but did I say

A little too much?”

Kitahara and Kaede touched the little butterfly on their hair with their fingers, shook their heads with a smile, then picked a piece of onion cake on the counter, put it together with the bee sting cake that the little prince liked so much, and went to treat it.

The shopkeeper packed it.

Although the traveler did not express any dissatisfaction with its excessively verbose behavior, the golden butterfly blushed suddenly and hesitantly got back into the flower-shaped record player's loudspeaker.

The shopkeeper who was packing him tied a bow on the wrapping paper and packed the bag. The clean snow-white cat lay on the counter and wagged his tail. He didn't notice the butterflies on his body at all. He just raised his head and looked at Kitahara and Kaede.

Called coquettishly.

The shop owner rubbed the snow-white fur of his ragdoll cat. He seemed to notice Kitahara and Kaede's attention to the vinyl record player, and asked with a smile: "Sir, do you like this record player very much?"

"It's okay. I just feel like there are very few people using these old-fashioned vinyl records now."

Kitahara and Kaede looked at the purring and coquettish cat in amusement, and nodded to the shop owner: "I didn't expect to see someone using it in this place. And the songs played are very nice, even with a little special noise.

Flavorful.”

"Pfft."

The shop owner was a woman who looked about thirty years old. She couldn't help but smile when she heard this: "You are saying that I am an antique, right? This record player was given to me by someone else. I didn't like it at first.

:After all, it’s extremely troublesome every time I take out the turntable.”

"But it really suits the atmosphere here, doesn't it?" Kitahara Kazuka looked out through the window of the candy shop, with a smile flowing in his eyes, "The modern design that wants to fall out of the sky has something that is both classical and romantic.

A free and easy soul..."

The musical performance composed of a group of golden-red butterflies has not yet ended. When these fragile butterflies fly, their graceful dances bring a summer thunder, lightning and stormy momentum, like dense drums and crackling matches.

sound.

In the pouring of overlapping light and shadow, this song of life, full of vitality and vitality, climbs up the building, rising in pitch, and finally flies into the sky at the tip of a tower, scattering in the blue sky.

open.

Beiyuan and Feng raised their heads and stared at the butterfly rain.

Are those blooming in the sky at this time the bright fireworks, the impatiens blooming suddenly, or the fountains flowing with flames?

"That's why I haven't taken away this record player after so long." The shop owner laughed, his soft eyes resting on the record player that had been wiped and maintained in perfect condition, "Who told everyone

Do you like them all?"

Beihara and Feng retracted their gazes and smiled at each other: "I suddenly became curious about the person who gave me this record player. He must be a very interesting person."

"He, the person who gave you this record player has left this city for a long time. He may not come back."

The shop owner shook his head with some regret, as if thinking of some distant memory: "In the past, he often accompanied his friends to come to my place to buy cakes. He was often disliked because he smelled like rotten apples, and he almost fell in love with me several times.

There was a fight in the store."

Rotten apple smell? This is Schiller.

Beihara and Feng raised their eyebrows, thinking of Goethe's complaints about one of his friends.

In a nutshell, it can probably be understood as the intermittently breaking of defenses between perfectionist Virgos and the freewheeling Scorpios.

——But Goethe actually had a day when he was provoked by others and almost committed violence on the spot. What is this, does one thing conquer another?

The traveler clicked his tongue twice in his heart, and then asked with some curiosity: "Do you know why that gentleman left here? Could it be because of the war?"

"I don't know much about this, but he did leave during the war, and he said hello to me when he left."

The shopkeeper's tone was a little sad, with a slight nostalgia for the leisurely past in his voice:

"You must cherish this record player. Maybe someday, butterflies will fly in my shop..."

When the shop owner said this, he sighed softly, then picked up the cat that was rubbing against her, threw it under the table, and washed his hands in the dessert making room inside the Zou District store.

Will butterflies fly?

Kitahara and Kaede were silent for a while, silently looking at the butterflies flying and playing in the store, then picked up their two cakes and walked out of the dessert shop.

Hearing this, he was almost convinced that the record player in this store indeed came from Schiller.

I just didn't expect that this person would actually say such a thing? In a way, he feels more like a poet than a three-dimensional person.

Or is this sentence purely realistic?

The traveler couldn't help but turn his head to take another look at the dessert shop, and then saw a golden butterfly hurriedly emerging from the gap in the door that was not completely closed.

"Hey! Just wait for me!"

The thin voice of the golden butterfly was almost drowned out by the music composed of more butterflies outside. It was not until this little guy stopped next to his ears that Kitahara and Feng could barely hear clearly what the other party was saying.

"Don't leave yet. Don't leave yet. Are you looking for the person who brought the record player?" The little butterfly patted its beautiful wings and asked seriously in its soft voice.

"Well, that's it. Do you know anything about him?"

Kitahara and Kaede tilted their heads, trying to find where the little guy had flown. He could tell from the familiar thin and soft tone that the flying butterfly should be the chatty little guy he had chatted with for a while.

.

Of course, according to a large number of factual examples, people cannot see their own ears without the aid of tools, so naturally they found nothing.

"I'm just a piece of music played in a dessert shop. It doesn't go to many places at all. How could I possibly know that? - Hey, don't move your head. I'm about to be thrown away! I'm right next to your ear.

!”

The butterfly flapped its wings nervously, a little worried that it would fall down in the next second - who said that a flying butterfly can't be a little afraid of falling?
To be continued...