British writer
Chapter 6 The Master
the next day,
morning.
It was Natsume Soseki's teacher Smith, not Doyle, who knocked on the door of Brea Road.
The old gentleman did not enter the house,
Standing outside the door, he said with some embarrassment: "Mr. Lu, Arthur rushed back to his hometown of Edinburgh overnight due to urgent matters, so let me introduce you to Charles."
As if worried about Lu Shi's misunderstanding, he quickly added: "Don't think too much, Arthur just rekindled his passion for writing because of his conversation with the two of you yesterday, maybe we will be able to see Sherlock Holmes soon. resurrected."
The Last Case was published in December 1893,
The Hound of the Baskervilles was published in August 1901,
During this period, Sherlock Holmes was in a state of "death".
From the perspective of time, what Smith said may not be all comforting words, and they should be mixed.
Lu Shi invited, "Sir, do you want to come in and sit?"
Smith bowed his head in a gentlemanly manner, and said, "No, let's go to Fleet Street quickly, and don't keep Charles waiting too long. He has a hot temper..."
The old gentleman stretched out his hand to straighten his bowler hat, seemingly urging him silently.
Lu Shi nodded in understanding.
It is not difficult to see from the name that the headquarters of the "Manchester Guardian" is in Manchester, and it only has an office in London. As the editor-in-chief, Charles Preswich Scott naturally cannot stay here for too long.
Smith took Lu into the carriage and went to Fleet Street together.
Fleet Street, named after the adjacent Fleet River, was the headquarters of traditional British media until the 1980s, so it is known as the home of British newspapers.
The most conspicuous building here is the headquarters of The Times, tall and graceful,
In comparison, the offices of the Manchester Guardian looked much shabby. They only rented a three-story Haussmann-style apartment, which was deserted, and there was a smell of ammonia by the stairs, as if it had been pissed by a drunk.
Smith knocked on the door and handed the porter his card.
The concierge confirmed his identity and greeted him and Lu Shi to enter the house.
"The editor-in-chief is already waiting for you."
He took the two of them up the stairs, went straight to the third floor, stepped over piles of manuscripts and newspapers piled up on the ground, and came to the innermost room.
Just about to knock on the door, there was a conversation inside,
"Editor-in-chief, don't you want to eat?"
"Waiting for someone."
"Ah, by the way, I heard that it is a young writer recommended by Dr. Doyle, and it seems to be Chinese."
"That bastard Doyle really thinks we're picking up junk, why do you recommend me all kinds of crooked melons and cracked dates? Chinese people are writing novels, can he write? Can't! You don't have the ability to know ?”
...
The porter's hand that was about to knock on the door froze.
The atmosphere is awkward.
Smith patted Lu Shi's shoulder, then cleared his throat loudly, and even tapped the wooden floor a few times with his cane to ensure that the people in the room could hear him.
The editor's room suddenly fell silent.
Not long after, the door of the room opened, and a young editor ran out holding stacks of newspapers with his head bowed.
Editor-in-chief Scott's voice sounded behind him: "Is it Old William? Come in!"
Smith led the landing into the room, and at the same time scolded: "Charles, since when did you start to look down on people? What's the matter, the Londoners haven't subdued you, a 'hillies' from Manchester?"
Scott's face blackened,
"So, sometimes I really annoy Oliver Twist."
In Oliver Twist, Dickens portrayed Manchester as synonymous with poverty and suffering, and spread this stereotype widely. Londoners at the Queen's feet naturally looked down on those "hillies" from Manchester.
Smith chuckled.
"So don't always look at things with old eyes, isn't Manchester what it used to be? I like the glasses you make there."
Scott snorted, but didn't answer.
Seeing his noncommittal, Smith frowned,
"That's not what a gentleman does."
Scott sighed and replied: "Oh, you don't know... China... Forget it, don't mention this."
As the editor-in-chief of an influential newspaper, he has his own information channels, so he has a general understanding of China's current situation.
Of course Lu Shi also knew,
In the near future, that is, on October 17, 1900, the commander-in-chief of the Eight-Nation Allied Forces, Vadsi, entered Beijing, set up the headquarters in the Forbidden City, and established the military colonial organization "Beijing Management Committee" in the Lifanyuan Yamen.
In common people's perception, the Forbidden City is the power center of the Qing court, which is roughly equivalent to the seat of the British Parliament - the Palace of Westminster.
This kind of landmark is set as the headquarters of the military of other countries, and basically symbolizes the end of a regime.
When Scott looked at Lu, there was an arrogant pity in his eyes.
He held out his hand,
"Manuscript."
The attitude is a little careless, obviously not expecting a Chinese to write a good work.
Lu Shi was actually a little annoyed, but after thinking about the ridiculous braid on the back of his head, his annoyance turned into helplessness,
Alas, 1900...
For a moment, he had mixed feelings in his heart,
Maybe there is something I can do in a foreign country?
Seeing him in a daze, Scott snorted coldly and said, "Young man, are you waiting for my apology? Let me tell you, I don't owe you anything. If it wasn't for that idiot Doyle..."
As he spoke, he glanced at Smith, and swallowed back the complaints that followed,
Smith is a friend of Doyle, and it would be inappropriate to scold Doyle in front of him after all.
Lu Shi was no longer angry, and handed over the manuscript.
Scott caught it with one hand, and said at the same time: "Let's talk about it first, this matter is probably useless. You also know that our "Manchester Guardian" only has book reviews and no serial novels, so it's best not to get too big... …Well……"
When he saw Lu Shi's manuscript, he suddenly showed some approval,
"Very beautiful handwritten font, a bit similar to Italian font, but much more coherent than Italian font, very suitable for scenes with a lot of writing. Is your teacher Italian?"
In fact, it is the font that comes with the office software, and it will be used after a lot of use.
Lu Shi didn't answer.
Seeing that he didn't say anything, Scott didn't delve into it any further, and started reading the content instead.
At first, he just wanted to take a general look at ten lines at a glance, and then find an excuse to dismiss Lu Shi,
Unexpectedly, the preface of the opening chapter gave him a great impact.
He said, "Is this a detective story?"
Lu Shi rubbed his nose and corrected: "I don't intend to arrange a fixed detective role in this book, so it should be regarded as a suspense novel."
Scott was dumbfounded,
The suspense novel uses a nursery rhyme as the preface! ?
This is too new to begin with.
In an instant, his appetite was whetted. He took out the glasses from the small wooden box beside him, put them on, and read carefully word by word.
When he read that the nursery rhyme appeared in the main text, and someone's death coincided with the first sentence of the nursery rhyme, he couldn't help but tremble violently, the skin on the back of his neck was covered with goose bumps, and the hairs on the roots stood on end rise.
He raised his head and asked in confusion, "Which master's work is this?"
After I finished speaking, I felt wrong again.
Isn't the master the Chinese young man in front of you?
When Scott looked at Lu, his eyes became wild and restless.
The new book is on the road, please support.
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