The man smoking silently leaning against the wall never looked at him directly, displaying an arrogant deanor, seemingly lazy to acknowledge him — a progressive student from Moscow University.
This behavior further solidified Herzen’s belief: this guy was making fun of him, deliberately mocking him.
Because he had recently offended this British gentleman by comparing his alma mater, the University of London, with Kazan University and Kharkov University. Hence, his pride was hurt, prompting such a malicious trick to tease him.
Herzen had not interacted much with the British, but his father had lived in Paris for several years as a diplomat. In Paris, his father had t many gentlen from British high society.
According to his father’s description, the British indeed seed like this.
Though, like the French, they were cultured, British emotions were far more fragile than those of the French. They might verbally express indifference, but internally they might have long despised you.
Moreover, regardless of whether their thoughts are truly morally upright, British gentlen always feign detachnt, maintaining a distance from others, as if fearing that entanglent might trouble them.
Of course, the British also have their virtues.
Although so British politeness is pretentious, it’s impressive how they can maintain it throughout their lives.
However, despite their politeness, Herzen’s father insisted: at least in terms of friendship, French gentlen are far superior to British gentlen.
Although that was said, Herzen was here today to watch the show, not wanting to create enemies unnecessarily.
Especially since it might have been his fault in the first place.
He intended to ease the relationship with Arthur and thus naturally proposed the best social tool among university students: "Would you like to have a drink? I’ve brought Levishart Sparkling Wine with my companions."
But as soon as he said it, Herzen regretted it.
Though Levishart Sparkling Wine was indeed his favorite, with flavors of citrus, green apple, pear, peach, and apricot, it was considered a rather immature taste by older individuals and professional wine lovers.
Liking sparkling wine usually indicates two things.
Firstly, it represents that the drinker is an inexperienced youngster.
Secondly, if not a youngster, then they can only be an unsophisticated country bumpkin.
Of course, there are occasional exceptions.
During such tis, one must apply Hegel’s logic dialectics, organically rging the first point and the second point.
Sure enough, as soon as Herzen spoke, Arthur, who never looked directly at him, earnestly examined his black hair, slightly lowered in embarrassnt.
But to Herzen’s surprise, Arthur didn’t imdiately mock him; instead, he tentatively asked, "I haven’t tried Levishart’s sparkling wine; how sweet is it?"
Herzen, blushing, replied, "I don’t always drink sweet; sotis I like to mix in so dry for variety."
"No need," Arthur cheerfully patted the shoulder of the young man he just t, "just bring the kind you usually drink."
The Red Devil, lounging on the sofa, couldn’t help but wave a hand in front of his nose as if he slled sothing intolerably foul: "What’s this called? This is called: Barr’s Labyrinth, mistakenly entering the public latrine—eh! Damn it, found the right spot!"
Then, Agares didn’t forget to teach Arthur: "Arthur, ever since you were shot, the effects of your labor reform have always been great. Now, my only dissatisfaction with you is your persistent low taste in wine appreciation."
Arthur urged Herzen to lead the way, and as they walked out of the smoking room, he found an opportunity to retaliate humorously: "But my taste in smoking is always better than soone who specially buys an intestinal smoke therapy device. Havana’s cigars are already rich enough; Agares, no need to add more."
Bang.
The sound of the door closing startled Herzen.
He looked back at Arthur, who was smiling broadly, thinking to himself, "The British indeed are like this; their expressions and thoughts are two different things. He’s probably furious now."
Arthur noticed his new friend’s unnatural expression. The Tsar of Gottingen, eager for so sweet water, issued an ’Imperial Seal Decree’, kindly declaring to this foreign resident outside his jurisdiction: "Don’t mind, this is a unique British custom. To lock bad luck in the smoking room, preventing it from troubling the ladies. Understandably, gentlen’s stamina is stronger than ladies’, and even nailed to the cross, they can resurrect. Whereas the ladies? Even one as strong as Mary Magdalene would cry at the re sight of an execution."
Herzen almost burst out laughing at this religious joke.
He quickly covered his mouth, and only when he found nobody looking, he quietly chuckled: "You were indeed joking with earlier; the Tsar wouldn’t make such jokes."
Arthur neither confird nor denied; he rely shrugged and said: "The Russian Tsar might not, but Gottingen’s Tsar is different."
Herzen’s belief that ’this guy is also a university student’ strengthened, and he graciously doffed his hat and bowed: "Well then, Mr. Tsar, I hope our sparkling wine can match the specifications of a court feast."
Arthur followed Herzen upstairs and headed toward their private room.
Soon, the truly furious Red Devil poked his head out from behind the door.
Waving the tube of the smoke therapy device in one hand, he threatened: "If I’d known, I should’ve stuffed this into your mouth back when you were lying in the coffin!"
The Red Devil rolled up his sleeves and dashed upstairs, targeting Herzen’s private room, ready to give Arthur a taste of his fury.
However, upon entering the room, he found the atmosphere odd.
Half of the people in the room were smiling, listening to Herzen introducing the new friend beside him.
The other half awkwardly held bottles by the sofa or sat rigidly on chairs, glancing about with a sense of unease.
Arthur’s gaze was fixed on the leader among the uneasy ones, and he cast a aningful glance at him before opening his arms enthusiastically and saying, "Otto, what a coincidence, you’re here too?"
Bismarck, still suffering from a hangover, coughed repeatedly, thinking he must’ve offended Lady Luck lately; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been embroiled in the Young Italy scandal or accidentally stumbled back into the monitoring of the petty Hasting.
Seeing no response from Bismarck regarding his arrival, Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.
Crafty Bismarck understood that if he wanted to have a good drink today, he would have to go along with Arthur’s act.
But he wasn’t ready to completely surrender yet; at least secretly, he had to make things a bit challenging for Arthur, ensuring he, too, felt the pain of a hangover.
Bismarck stood up to embrace Arthur and said, "Looks like no one’s getting out today. Arthur, my dear old senior, who in Gottingen doesn’t know you can hold your liquor?"
Herzen’s classmates stood up to greet him in response.
"Otto, it seems Gottingen’s fighting strength has increased again."
"But with Sasha back, Moscow University’s strength is supplented too."
"The match has just started; the outco is still unpredictable!"
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