the next day,
morning.
It was Smith, Natsume Soseki's teacher, who knocked on the door of Braya Street, not Doyle.
The old gentleman did not enter the house;
He stood outside the door and said with some embarrassment: "Mr. Lu, Arthur rushed back to his hometown of Edinburgh overnight because of something urgent, 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 you two yesterday. Maybe it won't be long before we can see Sherlock Holmes." 's resurrected."
"The Last Case" was published in December 1893.
"The Hound of the Baskervilles" was published in August 1901.
During this period, Holmes was in a "dead" state.
Judging from the time, what Smith said may not necessarily be all comforting words, but should be a mixture of truth and falsehood.
Lu Shi invited: "Sir, do you want to come in and sit down?"
Smith lowered his head to thank him in a gentlemanly manner and said, "No, let's go to Fleet Street quickly and don't let Charles wait too long. He has a hot temper..."
The old gentleman stretched out his hand to straighten his bowler hat, seeming to be silently urging.
Lu Shi nodded understandingly.
It is not difficult to tell from the name that the "Manchester Guardian" is headquartered in Manchester, and only has an office in London. As the editor-in-chief, Charles Prestwich Scott naturally cannot stay here for too long.
Smith took Lu Shi into a carriage and headed to Fleet Street together.
Fleet Street, named after the adjacent Fleet River, was the headquarters of traditional British media until the 1980s, and is therefore known as the home of British newspapers.
The most conspicuous building here is the headquarters of The Times, which is tall and graceful.
In comparison, the office of the Manchester Guardian seemed much shabby. It only rented a three-storey Ottoman-style apartment with few rooms. There was a smell of ammonia next to the stairs, as if it had been peed by a drunkard.
Smith knocked on the door and handed his business card to the concierge.
The concierge confirmed his identity and invited him and Lu Shi to enter the house.
"The editor-in-chief is already waiting for you."
He led the two of them up the stairs, went straight to the third floor, stepped over the piles of manuscripts and newspapers piled on the ground, and came to the innermost room.
Just as he was about to knock on the door, there was a conversation inside.
"Editor-in-Chief, aren't you going to eat?"
"Waiting for someone."
"Ah, by the way, I heard that he was a young writer recommended by Dr. Doyle. He seems to be Chinese."
"That stinky bastard Doyle really thinks that we are just picking up rags. How can he introduce me to all kinds of crooked people? Chinese people are all writing novels. Can he write? He can't! You don't have the ability, you know? ?”
…
The concierge's hand that was about to knock on the door froze.
The atmosphere was awkward.
Smith patted Lu Shi on the 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.
The editor's room suddenly became quiet.
Not long after, the door opened, and a young editor ran out with his head down holding stacks of newspapers.
Editor-in-chief Scott's voice sounded behind him: "Is it old William? Come in!"
Smith led Shi Qing into the house while scolding him: "Charles, when did you start looking down on people? What's the matter, haven't the Londoners made you, a 'country bumpkin' from Manchester, submissive?"
Scott's face turned dark;
"So, sometimes I really get annoyed with Oliver Twist."
In "Oliver Twist", Dickens portrayed the city of Manchester as synonymous with poverty and suffering, and spread this stereotype widely. The Londoners at the Queen's feet naturally looked down on those "hillbillies" from Manchester.
Smith chuckled lightly,
"So, don't always look at things from the old perspective. Isn't Manchester different from what it used to be? I really like the glass you produce there."
Scott "tsk" and didn't answer.
Seeing that he was noncommittal, Smith frowned.
"This is not what a gentleman would do."
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 and therefore has a general understanding of the current situation in China.
Of course Lu Shi also knew,
In the near future, on October 17, 1900, General Wade West, commander of the Eight-Power Allied Forces, came to Beijing, set up his general headquarters in the Forbidden City, and established a military colonial institution, the "Beijing Management Committee" at the Lifanyuan Yamen.
In ordinary people's perception, the Forbidden City is the center of power of the Qing court, roughly equivalent to the Palace of Westminster, the seat of the British Parliament.
This kind of landmark is set up as a headquarters by the military of other countries, basically symbolizing the end of a regime.
When Scott looked at Lu, there was a kind of arrogant pity in his eyes.
He stretched out his hand,
"Manuscript."
His attitude was a little careless, and he obviously didn't expect a Chinese person to write any good works.
Lu Shi was actually a little annoyed, but after thinking about the ridiculous pigtails on the back of his head, his anger turned into helplessness.
Alas, 1900...
For a moment, he had mixed feelings in his heart.
Maybe I can do something in a foreign country?
Seeing him in a daze, Scott snorted coldly and said, "Young man, are you waiting for me to apologize? Let me tell you, I don't owe you anything. If it weren't for that idiot Doyle..."
As he said that, he glanced at Smith and swallowed back his complaints.
Smith was Doyle's friend, and it was 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 first, this matter is probably out of the question. As you know, our "Manchester Guardian" only has a page for book reviews, not serialized novels, so it's best not to hold it too big... …Well……"
When he saw Lu Shi's manuscript, he suddenly showed a somewhat approving expression.
"A very beautiful handwritten font, a bit similar to Italian style, but much more coherent than Italian style. It is very suitable for scenes with a lot of writing. Is your teacher Italian?"
In fact, it is a font that comes with the office software, and you will get used to it after using it a lot.
Lu Shi didn't answer.
Seeing that he didn't say anything, Scott stopped delving into it and started reading the content.
At first, he just wanted to take a general look, and then find any excuse to send Lu Shi away.
What he didn't expect was that the opening prologue gave him a big impact.
He said, "Is this a detective story?"
Lu Shi touched his nose and corrected: "I am not going to arrange a fixed detective role in this book, so it should be regarded as a suspense novel."
Scott was speechless,
The suspense novel is prefaced by a nursery rhyme! ?
This beginning is too novel.
In an instant, his appetite was whetted. He took out his glasses from the small wooden box on the side, put them on, and read carefully word for word.
When he read that the nursery rhyme appeared in the text, and someone died in a way that coincided with the first sentence of the nursery rhyme, his whole body couldn't help but tremble violently. Goosebumps appeared on the skin on the back of his neck, and cold hairs stood on end. rise.
He raised his head and asked with some confusion: "Which master's work is this?"
After saying that, I felt something was wrong again.
Isn’t the master just the Chinese young man in front of me?
When Scott looked at Lu, his eyes became wild and restless.
