Tomorrow

Chapter 93—The Poor Don’t Recognize His Relatives

"Mr. Descartes seems to be alive."

"It's dying, just a breath."

"How can you be so angry at us with just one breath?"

"Yes, Mr. Descartes has a deep prejudice against us. He would rather burn all of his manuscripts than hand them to us. We bought a few of Mr. Descartes’ students, hoping to get his manuscripts... a pity, The old gentleman, who had no idea about the world, became extremely wise before he died, and seemed to be able to perceive all the darkness in the world."

"Do you think little Descartes can succeed?"

"I think it can, if Descartes is allowed to take his sister with him, it will be more successful..."

"In this case, we should release little Descartes to comfort the desperate heart of old Descartes."

"So, what we did is good, right?"

"Absolutely, we Yushan people are still in awe of learning."

"Yes, we are helping poor Descartes, and we have absolutely no intention of coveting his manuscript."

"Actually, we can create a fire or other disaster... to show our respect to Mr. Descartes!"

Descartes felt that he was dying.

There seems to be a lump of cotton wool in his lungs forever, preventing him from breathing happily, nor coughing happily. His hands are already on the desk, but he has to move them away, because as long as he sits down, he will breathe. It becomes more difficult.

The sun outside the house is extremely bright, the old golden walls glowing under the warm sun, the cruise ships passing through the Seine, the colorful flower windows in Notre-Dame Cathedral, and the royal flag flying above the Palace of Versailles all look so vivid.

Only him-Descartes is dying, like an old cat with mottled fur, a skinny old dog with a lame leg, walking through the cold streets, trying hard to find the last habitat.

In the shadow of the damp, cold stone wall, there seemed to be 10,000 ghosts hidden. As long as someone passed by, there would always be a cold breath after another.

"Bella—"

Descartes yelled loudly, but his voice seemed to be clogged in his throat with a piece of rags, deep and severe.

He rang a copper bell on the table, and immediately, a young girl in a big white apron came in and helped him to lie on the bed without being told by Mr. Descartes.

"Bella, the romance, elegance, blur, dream, dignity, holiness, tranquility, noise of Paris... have nothing to do with me. This makes me a little scared? You know, I am not afraid of death, I am afraid of death. mediocre."

"You are not mediocre? You are a famous scholar? You go to this street and ask, everyone says you are an amazing person."

"Haha? I've only been back for three years. The people here don't know me yet? Has Jungbel visited my cemetery? I hope he can find me a sunny cemetery? In the Netherlands for twenty years? My legs were caught by the sea breeze. Broken? Afraid of the cold."

Bella skillfully covered Mr. Descartes with a thick blanket, and stroked Mr. Descartes’s forehead with only a few sparse hairs. He whispered: "You are a great person? Everyone says so."

"I know I am a good person, but I am too lonely. When I was young, I thought a woman was synonymous with trouble. Marrying a woman was like raising a flock of geese. I would never want to be quiet again all my life.

Are you old now? I realized that being quiet is a kind of torture. "

When Descartes said this, Bella exclaimed and covered her mouth with her hands and said: "You haven't been married in your life?"

Descartes smiled and said, "No."

"Not even a lover? This is incredible."

"Oh, there are still lovers, you know, men will inevitably be urged to do irrational things when they are young, but only distress remains after sweetness."

"It's time for you to go to bed." Bella picked up a large feather by the bed and gently flicked it on Descartes's face. After a while, Descartes fell into a deep sleep.

Not far from the white house where Descartes lived, there is a large gray stone building.

This was originally the location of the city hall. Since it was sold to a group of Ming people, it has become Ming's embassy in France.

In a beautifully decorated wooden house, a pale face, long golden hair curled over her shoulders, a pair of large eyes with a melancholy look, pink lips, and a white-handed woman is correcting little Descartes' dinner. Posture.

A monocle hung on her chest, which was bound by a thin silver chain, jumping naughty on her white chest.

Her waist is very thin, which makes her huge skirt like a blooming lily, coupled with her towering bun, no one will doubt her status as a court teacher.

"Don't put up the white silk after Descartes wipes his mouth, but throw it away. Your maid will help you clean it up."

Little Descartes, dressed in precious silk, nodded arrogantly, and once again picked up the silk to touch the corner of his mouth, and then threw the silk on the table, looking arrogant and somewhat unreasonable.

Emily sits on the other side of the long table, with a huge bow tied in her golden hair, and she wears a pink tutu. These costumes set off the scrawny Emily like a doll.

She is now attacking a huge cream cake with all her face, but just like that, their etiquette teacher Emma turned a blind eye to any small mistakes made by Little Descartes.

Little Descartes is very clever, even very clever, in just three days, his noble manners have been flawless.

"Emily is still young, no matter how rude she behaves, she should be. She doesn't like to eat with a spoon, and she likes to eat with her hands. This fits the identity of a child of her age.

Descartes, you can't! "

Little Descartes nodded, pushed aside the exquisite dinner plate in front of him, stood up, looked down at the tight socks tied to his calf, then looked at the calfskin shoes inlaid with a daisy, and said to Emma: "I don't like it. these things."

Emma smiled: "You have to get used to your new accent, but Mr. Descartes has been wandering outside for twenty years, so he doesn't understand the accent of Parisian high society. You just need to practice hard and it will be fine. ."

The tall wooden door was pushed open, Zhang Liang walked in in a green shirt, and said to little Descartes: "You should learn to learn."

Little Descartes left with Zhang Liang, and Emma could only watch the beautiful child follow this strange Ming countryman to the next door. I heard that in that house, Little Descartes had to study for ten hours a day.

Suddenly, Emma screamed. Emily, who was eating the cake, raised her head in confusion. She only saw Emma being taken away by a man in Tsing Yi. She had been used to it, so she discarded the cake and stepped on a stool to climb the long. On the table, he pulled out a roast chicken from a silver plate and gnawed it down fiercely.

Zhang Liang was no longer satisfied with the little Descartes. This kid was actually literate and had an extremely high talent for mathematics. Within a month, he actually had a certain understanding of elementary school mathematics.

In another month, the plan should be implemented.

"Teacher, are we really going to find my grandfather?"

"Yes, we need your grandfather's manuscript very much. He is a great man, but unfortunately he has a narrow temperament. You should understand that learning knows no borders. It belongs to each of us.

Therefore, we obtained Mr. Descartes' manuscripts through this gentle method, printed them into books, and finally spread his knowledge to every corner of the world. "

"He is an old man who is about to die, gentlemen are very strong, why not take it?"

"Learning is different from gold and silver or other things. If Mr. Descartes is reluctant or unwilling, there must be many traps in the manuscript he left behind.

These traps will make us people of research and knowledge pay a heavy price in the end. Therefore, we would rather use soft means than hard means.

Furthermore, you may be the grandson of Mr. Descartes, seeking the manuscript of Mr. Descartes to be true. At the same time, we also want Mr. Descartes to know that he has a grandson and a granddaughter before he dies. "

"My mother said, I am not."

"What if it is? You know, your talent in mathematics is as good as your grandfather. This is the proof!"

"Okay, I will be a good grandson of Mr. Descartes."

Zhang Liang laughed and said: "Don't worry, this will be a wonderful experience for you~www.wuxiaspot.com~Little Descartes also smiled and continued to bury his mind in math learning. Among.

In the past month, little Descartes always felt that he was dreaming, that he had lived a life that no nobles could match. A certain emperor of France once vowed to let every Frenchman live the life of a chicken on the dinner plate.

Obviously, the emperor failed to do so, France became increasingly poor, and he, since he was on the gallows, this kind of beautiful life suddenly came.

Every day Emily has endless food, endless chicken, endless milk, endless beautiful clothes. In this gray rock castle, Emily has undoubtedly become a princess. Still the only princess.

In the evening, after dinner, Little Descartes and Mr. Zhang Liang were walking on the grass outside the castle. Emily was jumping in front of him, and it was Mrs. Emma who guarded Emily.

In the past, Teacher Emma was always alone, but today is different. Mr. Gan Chong held Teacher Emma's hand tightly, and seemed reluctant to let go.

"I'm ready, sir."

Little Descartes whispered to Zhang Liang.

Zhang Liang shook his head and said, "When the poor little Descartes goes to see Descartes' grandfather, he will be suspected and criticized. Everyone will say that you are for the wealth of Mr. Descartes.

However, the wealthy little Descartes went to see Mr. Descartes in a luxurious carriage with many servants and a lot of money, and gave him a large amount of money to help him save.

So, even if you are not Mr. Dekale's grandson, people will think you are his grandson.

You have to know that this has nothing to do with Mr. Descartes's behavior, only with people's habits.

The so-called poor in the downtown area no one asks, the rich in the mountains have distant relatives is the truth! "